Remember when you were a little kid and swearing (or using a “bad word”) was a big deal? One of few things I remember from my childhood I remember quite fondly: the first time I heard my little sister, then maybe only 4 or 5, swear. I forget exactly what she was doing, but whatever it was, it wasn’t working out. I heard a muttered, kind of raspy little kid, “Damn.”
I couldn’t believe my ears! “What’d you say?” I asked, trying not to laugh.
She looked at me, totally at her wits’ end, maybe due to some Barbie shoe that wouldn’t fit her doll or because the particle accelerator she built out of common household items was on the fritz, threatening all of mankind again – I dunno. Whatever it was, she was hot pissed. In exasperation, she shouted, “I said DAMN!” And she pronounced it “day-um,” Southern Ohio style.
I laughed out loud (is there an easier way to type those words?) in shock. It was a big deal back then! Hell, I might’ve told on her, too… Not sure. If I did I was a douche bag. That seems possible, maybe even likely.
Sneaking a swear word or a “cuss” was something subversive to do as a kid, at least it was for me. Getting away with a bad word. Edgy. I felt empowered with the few “s-words” I’d let out when annoyed or the secret “f-bombs” during times of childhood stress.
But when one is an adult, swearing is no big fucking deal, is it? Shit, I can fucking swear whenever the shit I wanna, and I can even substitute “shit” for “hell” if I think it’ll sound better or more badass.
Now swearing comes as natural to me as breathing. And it’s lost all it’s fucking power, because who gives a good goddamn, you know?
So, what now then?
What the fuck now then indeed.