Oh, fudge

[PG-13 post below.]

How did I learn profanity? It's obvious that somewhere along the course of my life I not only learned words like "shit" and "fuck" despite never being taught them in school. I imagine I learned it the same way Ralphie Parker did in A Christmas Story: from my old man. My father didn't pepper his conversations with swear words like a proverbial sailor but he would utter them when he got really upset, or smashed his thumb with a hammer, or some such scenario. It wasn't a calculated response; it was merely how he'd learned (probably from his old man) to subconsciously react in moments that (in a manner of speaking) required it.

I have no specific recollection of hearing my father use such terms, but based on how the parts of my life I do remember better went, I have to imagine that's the likeliest initial exposure I had to them. Obviously, forces beyond my parents further reinforced my using them at moments when I get really upset, or smash my thumb with a hammer, etc.

While it was never my father's specific intention to "teach" me these words, over the years he did help me through modeling (of a sort). I'm sure at some point, like Ralphie, I must have uttered one of the words in his presence and gotten in trouble for it, so I consciously learned something. However, obviously the lesson was not that I should never use those words, but that I should be careful when using them.

Those words had power. (There's a clever South Park episode about that.) By yelling them (or perhaps merely thinking them, or maybe even typing them) at a moment of heightened negative emotion or sudden physical pain, it mitigated the emotion; it vented some (not all, but some) of the anger or frustration I experienced (even if that frustration was directed at my inability to swing a hammer and strike only the nail, not my thumb). That may not be an ideal coping mechanism, but it's far from the worst reaction one could have. Focusing one's negative energy into an uttered word (or string of words) can release that negative energy.

What's interesting is how specific terms became codified as the "bad" words (identified primarily by the way they get bleeped on broadcast television). Conceivably anything uttered that achieves the goal of venting the frustration in that moment would serve; clearly that's why words that sound similar to the codified profane terms are said in moments when there is a lessened need for venting (such as when the nail you're holding with the thumb that's about to get smashed with the hammer slips out of your hand, falls to the ground, and slides into a drain; a simple "shoot" is sufficient in that situation, without needing a full-on "shit").

However, these variations permitted in public fail to carry the same catharsis, because they aren't the real thing when it comes to cursing; those words simply indicate a desire to suggest swearing was allowed in the circumstances at hand while demonstrating regard for social decorum. In moments where the need for release is too great (or when one is alone), only ejaculating (it has other connotations) a vile, unmitigated swear word serves the purpose.

And thus, one must be cautious about not overusing those words. Were it the case that I'd learned to casually toss some form of "motherfucker" into every other sentence, it would have lost any cathartic power before I finished junior high school. However, because my father conveyed through his actions that those words should be reserved only for circumstances that absolutely require them, I learned how to maintain their strength.

Frankly, I worry slightly about children whose parents never swear in front of them. Obviously, it's not good to let it run rampant when the kids are in the room, and it shouldn't be directed at the children, but if the parents always stifle that reaction when the children are present, they will have no choice but to pick it up on the playground, from children whose parents better roundaboutly empowered them.

I'd rather my child be the one doing the teaching in that scenario than the one doing the learning. At least there's some modicum of control exerted over my own offspring.

Good parenting, like anything else, is relative. Thanks, Dad.

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Yes, the above eschews the use of profanity to insult others when they are the source of the frustration for which release is required. In that case, the use of swear words as epithets (or portions thereof) depends on one simple criterion: Can you take the guy in a fight, or at least outrun him? If not, then the outward appearance of restraint trumps the need for venting. (It's not like your average dipshit is going to suddenly wise up by being called a "dipshit" to his face.)

That's the sort of lesson that is, unfortunately, more often learned the hard way (typically on the playground).

~

Parents: Please don't allow your children to learn by reading this post.