Monday, July 12, 2010

An Epitaph for The Dirty Word

I am putting my Hall of Shame Series on hold for the moment to rant a bit about a sudden thought which came to me today and which I cannot get out of my mind......it is either profound or idiotic......I am not sure which, but it needs to be expressed and given room to breathe so get ready for either profundity or idiocy.....or very like some of each.

I had the misfortune to commit a very stupid act today....I was clumfing barefoot down the hall with my cane after rising from my bed and somehow managed to place the tip of the cane on the little toe of my right foot thereby causing me to give forth with a huge shriek of pain when I leaned on said cane and threatened the little toe with disconnection from the other foot bones.  Then I opened my mouth to spew forth a few choice utterances worthy of the indignity I had just suffered (and the clumsiness and stupidity I had just displayed) and nothing came out.  None of the satisfying cuss words I have hugged to my bounteous bosom for lo these many years seemed good enough (or perhaps that should read "bad enough").  I was desolate.
I realized that the modern world (and rap music) has ruined all the good cuss words.  Whatever are we to do?
 
No wonder there is so much violence and pent up rage in the citizenry these days.....and we have done it to ourselves folks.........There are no curses or epithets left to vent our spleen and relieve our frustrations.....we have gentrified them all into compliments (you are my bitch) or meaningless mumbo jumbo from a rap song (fuckfuckfuck yo' muthafucka).......our ears and inner core are calloused and desensitized....what the hell do we scream when we are enraged nowadays????  There are no decent cuss words left........what a dreadful predicament!

I can remember the time when I was so prissy that a curse word never escaped my lips.  (I think I may have overused "darn it" a lot in those days).  That all came to an end  ( and a screeching halt if I may say so) one memorable day in my studio.

However, before going into detail I must first set the scene so that you will understand all the ramifications of the disaster that deflowered my cursing virginity.  My kiln was a huge gas powered monster about 5 or 6 feet square.  I used to be just about 5'2" in my flip flops.  The kiln was a top loader which meant I had a mini set of steps that I would have to climb up, then wiggle my tummy onto the top edge of the kiln and dangle there suspended while I loaded the floor of the kiln.  As I added posts and shelves and moved upward I was able to get my feet back onto the steps and gain more control and more leverage over my load, but the floor was always the hardes and most iffy part of the job.  This particular day I had created a particularly huge pot and it was going to be the sole occupant of the kiln for  that firing.  So there I was teetering on my tummy on a 6" edge with my head deep into the bowels of the kiln and my arms extended to their fullest clutching the delicate treasure and.....well, hell........of course you have guessed it.........it slipped from my grasp and went splat in the bottom not only totally self destructing, but making one prodigious mess in the kiln and that is when I heard some horrible, never-to-be-uttered epithets resounding off of the walls.  I was so shocked at first that I looked around to see who might be fouling the air with those words and then I realized  there was no one else within cursing distance and the perpetrator had to be li'l ol' ME.  The brief moment of shame faded quickly and was replaced with a surge of  joy and feeling of triumph that I had not often felt up to that moment, and it was then that I knew I was doomed to blatant, shameless cursing forevermore.


Today, for the first time I realized that the bland acceptance of the grossest of modern utterances has greatly diminished the pleasure and relief one gets from cursing......a deprivation that I see a possible reason that mankind has become so inhuman.  Thank heaven my old friend, Dorothy is no longer here to see the day when merely uttering "Shit Piss, Fuck" failed to make everything all right with the world.  Sob.

 Forgive me for this miniscule blog........but.....I have left myself speechless.........

All I can think of to say about this horrendous situation is ..........Oh, Poo!




11 comments:

  1. This, the day after I included (and you read) the most infamous word on my blog. I read with trepidation, hoping you wouldn't single me out. Thank you! And then, I read: "I have left myself speechless." That's got to be the funniest deadpan wisecrack I've read in many moons. Spot on. LOL.

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  2. Amen!! I find myself reverting to German, Spanish or French for vehemence ~ or to my Mother's favorite
    "ShitAssholeandPiss" ~ said rather quickly as one word...

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  3. I remember Flanders and Swann wrote a song about the loss of good swear words by over-use half a century or so aga. The first two verses went as follows:
    Ma's out, Pa's out, Let's talk rude!
    Pee Po Belly Bum Drawers.
    Dance in the garden in the nude,
    Pee Po Belly Bum Drawers.
    Let's write rude words all down our street,
    Stick out our tongues at the people we meet,
    Let's have an intellectual treat
    Pee Po Belly Bum Drawers.

    Sunday again on CBC,
    Pee Po Belly Bum Drawers.
    And Norman Mailer is coming to tea,
    Pee Po Belly Bum Pants!
    Alan Ginsberg reads on and on,
    But we're having a happening when he's gone,
    Come to the party in the john,
    Pee Po Belly Bum Drawers.

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  4. My grandmother taught me early the value of using those words sparingly, only for great emotion or horrendous happenings that are not to be borne in silence.

    She uttered only one foul word, and only once in her life, but it was so obvious that she meant it and meant it thoroughly that my grandfather was completely cowed, and he was not a man to be put easily into such a position.

    Because of that, I am careful that when I use such an epithet, you know I am pushed beyond my limit to endure.

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  5. I like that you call yourself a maverick. But not in the John McCain way, I hope. Thanks for stopping by my blog the other day!

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  6. Great blog.

    I have been a potty mouth since I learned to sail when I was 11. Not the really bad stuff, but enough that my father would raise an eyebrow when I was going on about some injustice, real or imagined.

    I am trying to break the habit, and I have found that "Blistering Barnacles" has the right ring for an epithet when required. It is all about the sounds more than the actual words.

    I hope your toe is recovering from it's ordeal. I once dropped a full pail on my big toe in a public place, and the pain made me speachless. Not a single sound escaped my lips. But holy smokes that hurt like the dickens. The toe nail eventually fell off and I considered steeltoed boots for a while.

    Happy healing!

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  7. Oh Poo..my children when admonished not to curse like their father started a sing song thing..Poopy Potty, Peeee..they nearly drove me nuts. I try not to say Fuck..unless the phone rings:)

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  8. Lo - I truly am laughing my ass off here. That is just too funny. I can't tell you how many "shit, piss, fucks!" I've uttered when stumping a toe or something equally painful. I like to blame it on being once married to a sailor. Heh.

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  9. LMAO!! Oh my... you express this ...conumdrum so well!

    I suggest making up some new words - the language is dymanic and it is in need of some new, more powerful, cuss words.

    I suspect you have the talent to create some really awsome ones.

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  10. Lo- I think I am falling in love with you. Is that okay? And let me say that curse words (even though I vastly overuse them) still carry so much pleasure in their utterances from me. I have no idea why. But they do.
    I find "cocksucker!" to be especially pleasing.

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