I grew up with a cursing father, RH this and that, for starters. My mother did not curse, was properly catholic churched, though she did, only too, too rarely, open up in sheer anguished frustration, though never compelling or tellingly enough and then with regret. Cursing does not come easily to her. Not enough exposure or practice as a child.
It has been somewhat of a limitation, I must say now, to live with someone who is disdainful of cursing as a skill, who looks at me as if I have gone off the deep end on the seldom enough occasion when my Clarke DNA kicks in. A fetter on expressiveness. Especially since I feel that I have it in me to do so fluently, with ease. Is it too late to start?
The children, having not really heard too much in their family life, do not curse though I am always surprised to go on Facebook and see all that casual, arbitrary, non-specific use of curse words passing in the news feed. Not my children though. Right. Anyways, one day when Aschille was a little boy, he came home breathlessly, “Mama, you want to hear what this boy said at school, “you are a F wording, A word sucking hole!” Just like that. It was even more obscene, all that wording substitution. And a reminder why cursing can be so offending and offensive as when used to demean and humiliate. And so it is less the words that trouble, but rather the intent and motivation.
Listening to those characters in Mary Could Dance and their ‘obseen cussing’ though, there is no doubt that rapid response cursing is liberating, especially when there are precious few other avenues to exercise autonomy and assert oneself. And then, there are just the times, when no other words better capture instantly and accurately, feelings of disgust. Ras Pilly I (aka Andrew and speaker of truth to power) advocates for strategic swearing, like when someone does something terribly unreasonable, says something dreadfully ignorant, behaves like a twit, his advice – look the person full on, drop one’s voice, and with utter solemnity, say: “You’se a RH or what?’
I fantasize about the right RH moment and think that it would be very effective in the staidest, most formal of environments to someone misusing and abusing position and power. But it can also work, for more mundane annoyances, like for those persons from the Conservation Commission who come into the yard and leave their empty, plastic sweet drink bottles lying around. Ah mean to say…
Wow! I want to be the spoil sport.
I did not grow up in a cursing household and actually cannot remember ever hearing my mother or father use curse words. I often heard my mother, when exposed to cursing, saying that the person needed to have their mouths washed with soap and water.
It is something that I thought about since it seemed at one point to be so easy and possibly liberating for the people who used it. They often seemed to feel better after the expletives and went their merry ways. This seemed tempting.
My full scale exposure was in Jamaica where the RHs and the whole gamut of the “obseen” language repertoire were routine . This was accompanied by the deep frustration at the inequality and injustice by the underclass, which permeated the society and who used the “obseen” langauge lavishly. The pervasive sense of frustration often erupted in physical violence.
I came to the conclusion that the obscenities seemed to be a short cut used most often by those who did not have a great facility with language and felt powerless. The object was often either to express major frustration or to put down another person.
Both to me were problems, because the issue that presented the frustration and sense of powerlessness never had to be truly addressed. .The other step in the dance of the “obseen” language was its close relation to a physically violent next level when the frustration got to be too great to bear.
In the case of the “obseen” language designed to disrespect another, the put down never worked if the recipient chose to ignore the verbal attacks, and the only person who seemed to look “obseen” was then the giver of the obscenities.
On the other hand , an accepted put down seemed to often end in an escalating war of words and possibly physical violence. Neither rationale of frustration or disrespect quite made sense to me.
In my observation obscenities were often on a scale of violence and part of a culture of violence. The culture of violence has spread including the language.
I am therefore not surprised to see so much routine use of “obseen” language, because our tolerance level for violence, beginning with verbal abuse, now has a much higher threshold than existed before.
This for me represents the problem of the culture of violence and where our societies are going. The abnormal seems so normal and everyday.
I think that we are called to reflect why we have become so tolerant of abuse and violence, verbal and physical, and when and where we need to begin in an effort to turn around the culture of violence.
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Interestingly, as soon as I had put up my last blog entry, I got two messages asking whether I no longer bother to edit curse words with asterisks etc. The truth is, they flowed so organically I forgot that I often do this to allow the blog to be safe for reading at work.
I am a fan of cursing, although not obscenity for the sake of it. There is a definite place for it in most types of expression. That said, there is something about it coming from the mouths of children that makes me want to take a shower.
The other day on the street, a man said to me, emphatically: “That hairstyle look hard as c**t.” This was the highest compliment he could pay. I wasn’t even offended. I think I may have said thank you.
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Yes Roberta! having grown up next to a proper rum shop, I fear I have heard it all. In between domino slapping, there were the RHs, and the everything-hole, and of course the GBs… and dare I say no nationality does cuss as sweet – or as stink as a bajan.
It is true that some people (not many) just need ‘washing in curse’. It will often do them much good (especially coming from a least expected source such as yourself). But best yet, it feels f’ing good too.
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This is fun.
My father never cursed either. He played violin. And my Mum would probably faint before a “darn” passed her lips.
But me? Oh my! I utterly absolutely love cursing. Curse words are my favorite.
I have maybe three friends in the world who are like-minded. When I get together with any one of them, it’s like going to Disney World for me. Holiday. Carnival. We loosen our tongues on purpose, and its like flying.
Have to watch it though. As I get older I leak sometimes. And my husband, who doesn’t curse either, is not impressed.
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Oh shyte, for a few fleeting moments when I saw the email notification ‘Obseen cussing’, I worried Roberta was writing a blog about me.
Yes, cussing is like free therapy to relieve stress – and don’t forget to throw in a few stewps – it’s medically proven that used together, a stewps and a few good cuss words, temporarily reduces blood pressure and promotes mental well-being.
Stewps, I gone and do de RH people wuk yes, before they start with de damn @#!! complaining.
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I think it was Bob Dylan who there are no dirty words, just dirty minds. Does that help?
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