I happen to love cursing, swearing, cussing, or whatever linguistic term you wish to apply to it. The use of profanity is pretty much a cultural universal in all languages and dialects. In just about every size population, from huge countries to small clans deep in the wilderness, there seems to be a forbidden set of dirty words.
Why, some may ask, do we denigrate ourselves speaking offensive smut and filth? Well, because it works. Mark Twain once offered up the notion that, “Under certain circumstances, urgent circumstances, desperate circumstances, profanity provides a relief denied even to prayer.”
I will admit the urgency of the circumstances in which I will utter an illicit phrase is probably less than critical most of the time. This is particularly true when I am driving. However, the unleashing of frustration while annunciating a few pornographic syllables is immense. I would probably have been convicted of road rage or even have been on death row by now had it not been for the therapeutic psychological effect of profanity.
The other day I was stuck behind some moron going about 28mph in a 35mph zone with a green light up ahead. This alone was maddening. Then, as the light was turning yellow, this contemptible sack of dirt sped up enough that he made it through the light but he strategically managed to wait just long enough before doing so that I caught the red.
It is moments like these in which I have a great talent to link together a chain of F-word variants into a succession of passionate, rhyming, and rhythmic downbeats. I should have recorded it and added a throbbing hip-hop baseline and I would have had one hardcore killer track.
Granted, these profanity laced moments can be quite inhospitable for any passengers I may have in the car with me at the time, however, this discharge of obscene fury also helps me maintain my sanity in those instants and ipso facto keeps me out of jail.
The concept is simple. Profanity – if it works, use it!
“Then, as the light was turning yellow, this contemptible sack of dirt sped up enough that he made it through the light but he strategically managed to wait just long enough before doing so that I caught the red.” This is truly the worst. I feel your pain.
I appreciate your sympathy.
The power of profanity is like the power of antibiotics — if they are overused, they lose their effectivity.
That is a very good analogy. I guess we have to limit our prescriptions to four letter words.
For variety, I recommend learning dirty expressions in other languages.* I understand that the Hungarians are masters at this.
*This comes in handy when one of the passengers in your car is your frail, saintly Aunt Teresa who faints a lot and has a bad heart.
That sounds like a good idea!
Yeah. You have the fun of cussing and fooling people at the same time. 😉
I wonder though if it has the same emotional effect.
Profanity is sort of like poetry. Comes in handy when doth wants to protest too much.
Yes, it is a special kind of poetry.
I am a big fan of the F word when I stub my toe or bump into something. Nothing makes me feel better than saying that out loud. It eases the pain!
For pain relief profanity is better than aspirin!