About Profanity

Post 114:

            I don’t know what constitutes profanity anymore. Honestly. It’s one of those things that’s never made a lot of sense. The news can show the most horrific scenes of bloody mayhem for ratings with a simple preamble, “the images you are about to witness may contain some graphic violence.” So there’s that. But a network show can’t say shit without incurring a fine.

            It’s for the kids. Maybe I understand, but not really. As far as I’m able to tell, kids are innocent little people until they’re not. Innocence doesn’t unwind because they hear something once; like all the things that make people the wonderful beings we are, it’s a process.

            Hopefully you caught the sarcasm there.

            It’s just that sometimes I look at us adults and wonder why anybody feels imperious enough to go deciding what’s acceptable to anybody else. Seems like books from the 50s and 60s had more balls than the stuff that comes out today. Sure, you’ve got 50 Shades of Boring or whatever, but that’s too funny to really be subversive. Sorry ladies. Neanderthal warning. Post Neanderthal speak.

            Do I think little dudes and girls should be reading that garbage? Of course not. I also think that there’s something slightly awesome about the time I lied and said I wasn’t watching Die Hard when I was seven years old. Of all the things that have scarred me, I don’t think a few blood squibs and F-bombs are even in the top thousand.

            I really can’t pass judgment on people trying their best to raise kids. Frigging hard job. How can I know? Good question, but I have an answer. I know all too well. That’s why I don’t even one to try and wrangle. My heart might give out.

            Mostly I’m goofing around, but there is a serious point underlying the question of profanity. Especially when talking about adults. How offensive can a piece of fiction or art be to an adult? I say go all the way if it makes sense for the story or character.

            There’s a billion ways to write someone because there are a billion types of peeps in the world. Creepers that don’t say anything offensive, freaking teddy bears that cuss like sailors. All shapes and sizes. That’s why sizing everyone up with profanity usage graphs and charts is the fun-killing equivalent of a Beach Is Closed sign. Yeah, there’s some people way past good looking wearing a truly disturbing lack of clothes, but don’t let that ruin it for the hot people that want to show off. Take it easy on the hot people. They’re probably not that smart.

            See. I can be offensive without even using bad words. Jokes! Let it fly, I say. Especially if you stub your toe. That really hurts. See you after.