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The Joy of Filters
I hope this doesn’t come as too great a shock to any viewers of my family-friendly TV game show, but I cuss a bit. I know all the words, I know how to use them and I know how to hyphenate in such a way as to join many of them together in colorful flurries of foul-mouthedness. I’m not especially proud of this skill set, nor am I ashamed of it. It is but one aspect of me, and I use it judiciously, because I have a built-in filter. For example, I don’t think my parents ever heard me say so much as a “damn,” and it wasn’t because they forbade such talk; it just never seemed appropriate to me. But that filter becomes inoperative if I’m in the company of certain old friends (mostly male), around whom the expletives seem not only appropriate, but necessary.
However, there is little doubt that people have become increasingly unfiltered in matters of language regardless of the environment. We’ve all heard men and women spewing obscenities in public, oblivious to the little children or the group of blue-haired ladies in front of them, and we’ve all read the online message boards where no insult is too crude and no word is off limits. And, yes, I know they’re only words, and there’s a pretty good chance that those kids and those ladies and those online readers know them and perhaps use them, but I sure do miss the days when there were places and situations in which they were simply inappropriate.
If you’re looking for causes of the coarsening of our society, you can start with our language. Words convey a sense of the value you place on others. And when those words become so commonplace that they lose all value, they force you to even more unpleasant ways to express your displeasure. I rarely swore around my kids, but when I did—when the language became unfiltered—they knew their father was really unhappy about something.
I’ve had this discussion with friends, and some of them defend the new language realities. Something about lack of hypocrisy or a more democratic approach or the wonders of the everyman or the end of the starchy Victorian era, or some such gobbledygook. Even here at Ricochet, there isn’t universal support for our Code of Conduct. As for me, however, I think we functioned much better, and day-to-day life was far more pleasant, when we were more selective about where and when we chose to express our cruder side.
Published in General
Folk almost never acknowledge how much the “starchiness” of the Victorian era only applied to the more rarefied strata of the social hierarchy. The bawdiness in places like London’s south and east, or New York’s “Five Points”, was rather free of starch.
Also: The Joy of Cleaning The Filter…
I’m with you Pat. Like you, I’m no stranger to colorful language, though I wish I used it less. But what truly shocks me is how often I hear it at work. It is not at all uncommon for someone to drop an f-bomb in a meeting, male or female.
Now sometimes a well place expletive is the most efficient means of conveying a strong heartfelt emotion, but in a business setting I see no need for it and I wish it would stop.
I agree that there is a distinction, not just in the time and place, but in how well the people know each other. Even though we’ve heard it all before, it is quite off-putting when someone you don’t even know uses profanity.
Yes! Yes! Yes!!! YES!!! Amen, amen, amen.
Forget the kids, I’m bothered to hear such stuff.
When I was about twelve, my father said “Damn” in my presence, though not really aware of my being there. His pencil had broken while he was doing a crossword puzzle. (Cross word, indeed!)
I am not sure of which of us felt more awkward.
Use of colourful language needs to be contextually appropriate. I use more of it when in uniform than anywhere else (Canadian officers in the second world war apparently used expletives like most people use ums and ahs). Just about the only time otherwise that I will use them in other contexts is when a military-like situation asserts itself, and even then I feel like it’s out of place. I also notice that American officers do not share this tendency, or at least not to the same extent.
Promiscuous use lessens effectiveness, and causes one to need to resort to other means to achieve the shock once reserved for these words.
Short story: I was on a train, with my wife and grade school age kids, returning from a Giants game one night. The train was full of drunk and oblivious millennial Giants fans. One among them was talking loudly, and every third word was a variation of the f-word. We, and several other families with small kids, were sitting in plain sight of this guy and his foul-mouthed pals (several women among them). After a while, gesturing to the Mrs. and the kids, I asked him very loudly to clean up his language.
He became quiet. This fellow literally could not put a sentence together with that limitation.
Cursing, for a lot of these people, has become a substitute for thought.
In the last couple weeks my eyebrows have risen to Mara Liasson heights when two professional women I know- one of which is a public relations person and so should obviously know better – used the vulgar word for excrement in their writing, seemingly under the impression that writing $ for S made the word unpronounceable.
I don’t know, maybe had to do with the election.
I like to use French expletives, when the situation calls for a good expletive. Then, I can preface my use of them with, “Pardon my French.”
An example: “Pardon my French, but I can’t believe that trou du cul is going to issue that executive order.”
This line pleases me immensely.
Agree 100%.
Even though I struggle with my language. As far back as second grade, we all swore like brain damaged sailors. That is, we didn’t even use the words properly or completely understand their meaning, but we strung them together with great gusto and creativity.
So now I find myself a husband, father, and member of a very conservative church… and clean English is a second language to me.
Some portions of the off-limits vocabulary are easier to avoid than others. I fear God, so I have no urge to blaspheme His Name. But on the other end of the spectrum, there are, what, eight different words for what dogs leave in the yard. Someone long ago decided it was ok to say “pile,” “dung,” or “scat,” but the others are more borderline, eventually leading to one that is strictly forbidden. Why? They all mean the same thing. They all have four letters. I try to be good, and I understand the need for boundaries, but it’s hard to internalize when the rationale seems so arbitrary.
And then there’s the rhythm of the spoken word, especially when engaging in humor. Often there’s a place in the cadence of a story or an exaggeration where only a word on the naughty list seems to fit. Couple that with the fact that improvising humor involves disengaging one filter while keeping the other filters intact. It’s hard to get the neurons to fire properly with the conflicting directives, live in real time.
I digress. At the end of the day, there is no excuse. I repeat: agree 100%.
Me too.
What I find interesting is how creative writers are when they can’t resort to the trite cursing.
I grew up in a cursing culture. I didn’t want it for my kids, for many reasons.
I realized if I didn’t want them to swear, I had to not use language that encouraged it. I couldn’t say, “Oh sugar” when I dropped something on my foot because I realized they would simply put in the curse word when they got older. I had to go one step further back and get rid of those sentence constructions altogether.
I got my kids at least through high school without their using foul language.
In my volunteer work with kids, I was just clear about my zero tolerance for vulgar language. I never had a problem with kids in my presence. It wasn’t as if I could punish them–I was just a volunteer. They simply respected me. Pretty cool.
To extend this a little, I’m just generally upset by the elevation of the low. Cursing, tattoos, slovenly dress and habits, intemperateness… all of these things celebrated as authentic behavior. (As opposed to phony high-brow behavior.)
I’m not terribly concerned about occassionally dipping into the low. If I hit my thumb with a hammer, I curse. But we ought not elevate and celebrate that behavior. That’s the problem.
As C.S. Lewis put it, there are the dirty jokes you tell because they’re funny, and there are the dirty jokes you tell to say dirty words. I try not to confuse the latter for the former.
Right on, Sajak. And I would second pretty much all of the comments here. The two places that it gets to me are:
YouTube comments. If I’m watching cats steal dogs’ beds, or some guy feeding a giraffe, I don’t need two jackwagons calling each other [expletives] in the comments bar.
Craigslist ads. You can’t sell your car without calling it This [expletiving] Car? Really?
When I started teaching high school, I realized that I was going to have to give up on asking kids to watch their language around campus. I can control it in my classroom, with effort and persistence, but kids swear so much around my high school campus that it is just overwhelming.
Recently, I had some black kids in my class that were truly over the top with using f word and n word in class. I called all of their parents, and they all supported me and made sure their kids stopped using that language in my class. That was nice.
The problem with swearing is that it usually stems from negativity.
I also think Romney’s big problem was his foul mouth.
I like to use French expletives, when the situation calls for a good expletive. Then, I can preface my use of them with, “Pardon my French.”
An example: “Pardon my French, but I can’t believe that trou du cul is going to issue that executive order.”
I immediately googled this and the very first thing that came up was:
Noun. trou du cul m (plural trous du cul). (vulgar) …[removed for CofC]… jerk; a card game, also called président.
Quite appropriate I think.
Even for people who defend profanity, there’s a powerful argument to be made that it should be scarce. The whole point of foul language is to vent particularly strong emotion, or to emphasize one’s words through shock value. The only reason these words have that power in the first place is because they are impolite.
Profanity is only profanity because it breaks the rules. Which means you have to have the rules in the first place. If we abolish the rules and decide that these are just words, what will unimaginative comedians do for shock value?
And the reason that some comedians are extraordinarily profane is that it does get them laughs. For many comedy show patrons, no jokes, wit, or cleverness are required. Just having a guy curse is enough to make them laugh.
I’m a big fan of “Scheiße!”
No one who speaks German can be an evil man.
The use of ancient Anglo-Saxon is usually taken as a sign of disrespect. Our culture long ago adopted a (completely arbitrary) taboo that we never use such words in “polite company” or “among respectable folks,” and therefore if you use those words, you’re basically telling your company that they’re not very respectable.
For philosophical reasons, I dislike the taboo – Anglo-Saxon was only taboo because the snotty French Normans were pains in the … As a merely linguistic issue, of course, we can have an extremely pedantic and arcane discussion.
However, the larger point is cultural. I strongly agree with Pat that in the contemporary American culture, we treat each other like crap. [Yes, that usage was intentional.] We treat strangers (the vast majority of people whose paths we cross each day) very rudely.
I’d argue that the abundant disrespect is accelerated by the internet, and in turn, that explains why society is coarser. It’s because the internet, just like most of society, is increasingly anonymous. We meet less in person, and much more at a distance – so you can get away with saying things that would get you punched in a saloon.
So … if you want more civility, we need more saloons. (OK, my solution may be a bit self-serving.)
I read a book recently which was set in Dublin, early 20th century, where the f-bomb was considered a suitable 3rd word in every sentence among the lower classes. The main character was a man going through medical school at a teaching hospital in a slummy part of Dublin.While he was doing his obstetric rotation he made the mistake of describing a patient as “fecund” upon which hearing the patient almost got off the exam table and clobbered him because she thought he said….you know…a similar sounding word. (It helps if you can imagine the accent.)
With you, Pat – and everyone here. There’s a time *and* a place (and I’m so glad Ricochet isn’t it.) P. S. For those who wonder: I know many of the words – I look them up if I don’t – I just *choose* not to use them. <grin>
I was tempted to respond that I ___ing agree with Pat 100%, but CofC and all. . .
@KC Mulville: “Anglo-Saxon was only taboo because the snotty French Normans were pains in the …”
Though I’m no expert on 11th century England, my general knowledge of that period suggests that there weren’t any groups that were particularly “couth” at that time, and that the societal (cultural) prohibitions against the use of Anglo-Saxon curse words probably came along much later – and independent of any Norman-French influence.
Thank you, Randy. My kids might debate that point, but I don’t listen to them anyway. ;-)
While I’m at it, let me explain why I’m not convinced that profanity has anything to do with personal discipline. I can’t think of an area of life which requires more practical respect than the military … And yet, you know, they tell me that some sailors and soldiers use profanity more than twice a day! Shocking, I know!
If parents are the first and best of teachers, kids will learn from them. If those first and best of teachers are relaxed in how they use language, one needn’t be surprised if the children are relaxed in how and when they use language.
The Comedy Channel has people who think that adding a provocative word brings humor to the joke or story. Since I found them so unfunny as to change the channel, (and I did find them unfunny, and I did change the channel), adding an explicative or eight did not make the story or joke any less funny than it already was. I know funny and these people were dreadfully unfunny.
What did people used to call this? Potty mouth?