|
This writing was accepted for publication in the 108-page perfect-bound ISSN#/ISBN# issue/paperback book “What Now, My Love” cc&d, v330 (the February 2023 issue) Order the 6"x9" paperback book: 
|
 |
|
| ||
|
Order this writing in the book a Mural of a Forest the cc&d Jan.-April 2023 magazine issues collection book |
 |
get the 426 page Jan.-April 2023 cc&d magazine 6" x 9" ISBN# perfect-bound paperback book: 
|
| ||
|
The Atrophy of Cussin’ Brian Daly Back in the day I cussed a lot when I lived in Massachusetts—the popular words we all know. I guess it was the habit of repeating what I heard—until I moved to the South where cussin’ is a big freakin’ deal. See, up North every gal from pimply tweens to cranky grandmas and every guy old enough to crawl from the cradle spouts G-D all the time without a moment’s thought and all it means is “That ticks me off big-time!” For example, O’Casey says: “God damn those Celtics, they sucked again last night!” “God damn snowplow driver fucked up my lawn!” Let’s be clear—and not to be too schoolmarmy about this— but there’s a difference between profanity and vulgarity. Profanity is a mockery of the sacred, like God or Mom. Subject not sacred, then words not profane. Vulgar—as in crude references to sex or body parts— is what I am. Why? Because that’s what they deserve. Kiss my ass. In the examples above, the two God damns are profane. Or they would be if O’Casey believed in God. Sucked and fucked up are simply vulgar. So glad we did that. Now in Nashville, you say G-D and you’re wishing your victim literally to be in Hell! I repeat: To us, it truly means “May God damn you to the eternal flames for real and right now!” Word, like nobody ever says it. And if they do, watch out. Especially if they’re a preacher, or his wife. I don’t know how it happened but now, oh my goodness, when I stub my toe, instead of invoking the baroque cusses of my youth, I scream “Gosh darn it!,” “Shoot!,” or “Drat the luck!” like any pussy or old maid. Is it fear of my own damnation, advancing age, creeping bougie-ism or just the fact that you can say God damn and motherfucker only so many times in your life before you OD, and then the subconscious hands you a note reading “What say we dial it back a notch, cowboy?” So, class, to summarize: Only profanity counts as cussin’. Although beware, even vulgarity will get you bounced from venues like Little League games and Zoom calls. Oh by the way, for you damn Yankees, cussin’ means cursing. |
