If You’re Going to Curse, Be Creative

Let’s talk about dirty words. I like them, you like them. We all know what they are. I’m going to try not to use them here. Much. I’m not talking about the “clean” dirty words like mud or dust or excrement, which the dictionary defines as “something that soils someone or something.” I’m talking about the real dirty words that start with A, B, F, P and S and the variations on religious words that shouldn’t be said the way some people say them. I’ve said them. I’ve said them all, but I’m trying to quit.

I’ve been a smut-mouth for years. Yes, I’ve mentioned it in Confession and gone out and cussed in the parking lot. But I’ve started paying attention to how it sounds. It’s ugly. Besides, I work at a church. So I’m trying to change my ways.

It’s difficult because the language is everywhere. In movies and on Internet TV shows like “The Ranch” or “Orange is the New Black,” it’s F this and A that and all the other words. The shows are good, but the words get in your head and come out your mouth. You start punctuating every sentence with the F word. Saying BS loud and proud or A-hole. OMG, did we say that out loud? The words slip out, and people stare, even when you say somewhat innocuous words like damn or hell or shit.

Some people think they get away with it by using cheater words, like darn, heck, jeez, sheesh, and dad gummit. Come on, we know what you really mean.

When I was growing up, my mother did not curse, but my dad’s dinner-table language was colorful. As he described his days on construction sites, he used the words. He also talked about dagos, wops, okies, etc. It was a different era.

My best friend’s mom didn’t curse either, but we’d hear her say, “Oh, suuuuuugar!” I grew up in an era when men cursed and nice ladies (except for my Aunt Gen) did not. At least not in public. As a young newspaper reporter, I covered meetings where the men would tell each other to watch their language because there was a lady present. But now everybody seems to use smutty language.

These days, I do my share of cussing, but I’m trying to be creative. I have a master’s degree in creative writing. Surely I can come up with something more original. One of my father’s favorites was “Son of a bitch!” It’s not that bad. A bitch is a mama dog. Nothing bad about a mama dog. It was more the tone, like violence was about to occur (not on people, thank God). “Son of a bitch” is a satisfying mouthful of words. But now I say things like “son of a burger,” “son of a bagel,” “son of a big foot (ew),” “son of a basketball”—sometimes I crack myself up and forget to be mad.

I found this great website that offers 101 substitutes for popular profanities. I’m gonna print these out and try some of them. I don’t think I can say “gee whiz” with a straight face, but “Oh, Foccacia?” That might work.

I grew up where blue language happened all the time. Around my father, I still feel free to say bullshit, hell, damn, asshole, etc. Not the F word or variations thereof; that seems to cross the line. But I’m used to at least the milder cusses.

I didn’t even realize what I was doing until I married a man with children, and he said, “Whoa, not in front of my kids.” What????

What is a dirty word anyway? What makes them dirty? We seem to like bathroom words related to urine, feces, or body parts in the lower regions. We use words about sex, not soft words like making love but hard words like F— or P—y. What makes these bad? Is it really the word or the intention behind it? What do you think?

I think we need to distinguish between vulgarities—the potty and sex words–and the religious words. The Second Commandment tells us not to take God’s name in vain, but our society is so full of it. People say, “God!” all the time. “Oh my God!” “Oh. My. God.” “OMG.” They’re not actually talking to the creator; it’s just words.

Seems like if we’re going to call the All-powerful’s name, we’d better be looking for Him to answer. In times when something major happens, I have said, “Oh my God,” but at that moment, I am looking to connect with Him. I need his help.

When people say, “Jesus Christ!” as an exclamation, it bothers me, especially when they’re not even Christians. Then there’s “Damn it” and its variations. What gives us the right to send people to hell? Only God can do that.

Maybe you don’t believe in God. Fine. Then why are you using His name?

At the Association of Writers and Writing Programs conference in March, I attended a panel titled “How to Curse on the Page and Get Away with It.” Like most writers, I am wary of getting too blue in my writing for fear of offending people. Sometimes I put the word in, then get nervous and take it out. And yet I want to be authentic. Real people do curse.

The panelists focused on the book On Cussing: Bad Words and Creative Cursing by the late Katherine Dunn (who also wrote Geek Love). While On Cussing includes a history of cursing, it also looks at how writers create characters. What those characters (and people in real life) say tells us a lot about them, about their backgrounds, their attitudes, and their personalities. Language can be used to heighten the tension in a story, saving the profanity until it just has to come out. If the character who never says a dirty word suddenly blurts, “Shit!” you know he’s really upset.

Just like when my very religious mom would shout, “Damn it to hell!” We knew to get out of the way because she was really pissed. Is pissed a dirty word? Oh suuuugar. I’m trying.

Check out this “Cursing Without Cursing” youtube video.

And here is a story about times when cursing is good for you. 

Where do you stand on language? Do you enjoy a good vulgarity or get offended when people use language that used to get our mouths washed out with soap? I welcome your comments.

****

Thank you all for your kind words and prayers for me and my father. (See last week’s post). As of this moment, Dad is back at the skilled nursing facility in Los Gatos, California, doing quite well. He’s 97, so nothing is guaranteed, but we do have a moment to breathe and enjoy each other.

Author: Sue Fagalde Lick

writer/musician California native, Oregon resident Author of Freelancing for Newspapers, Shoes Full of Sand, Azorean Dreams, Stories Grandma Never Told, Childless by Marriage, and Up Beaver Creek. Most recently, I have published two poetry chapbooks, Gravel Road Ahead and The Widow at the Piano: Confessions of a Distracted Catholic. I have published hundreds of articles, plus essays, fiction and poetry. I'm also pretty good at singing and playing guitar and piano.

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