The Graveyard

The Lair Of Gary James

What The Fuck Did I Say Now…?

Posted by BigWords on June 18, 2009

Fuck, fuck, fuckity fuck. Fuck-a-doodle-do. Blah, blah, blah…

Swearing. It’s not big, and it’s not clever.

Fucking hell, the endless debate about “bad language” continues, and I managed – once again – to get drawn into the bloody argument. I should know better. I should back away quietly, making absolutely positive that I’m not seen. I should run away like my nads are aflame. But no, I have to pitch in. I have to have my moment, and point out that swearing is fucking important. More than being important, it is a connection to those around us… The breaking of a social taboo that allows everyone a release.

Damn. I’m a sucker for a good argument, and over on the Absolute Write boards a fight conversation started about the use of ‘fuck’ in novels a couple of days ago. Not actual fucking, just the word. Am I missing something? Was there a memo? Did everyone suddenly decide that there was a line that could not be crossed? Am I alone in flogging the bloated, fly-ridden carcus of the subject? There are enough people, and smarter people at that, who are bitch-slapping the use of swearyness to make sure that every fucking person alive knows the difference between a curse and a turn of speech.

There are some phrases which I adore: “sheep-shagging, inbred, sonuvabitch cum-guzzling retard” being one I’m particularly fond of. David Britton (in a book called Motherfuckers no less) used “Jesus H. Christ erect”. Both valid contributions to the language, and both phrases which I can use pretty much every day. Would Bill Hicks have been funnier if he never swore? Or Billy Connolly? Or the genius that is Irving Welsh, who has mastered the art of swearing in a completely readable manner – and I challenge anyone to complain about the use of ‘fuck’ in Trainspotting.

And the saddest thing about this post: there are more fucks here on the screen than I have had in the past ten years.


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