I don’t swear all that much. If I do, it’s either mostly for humour, or because I stubbed my toe or banged my head. It’s rarely verbalized and usually simply a thought. I have a complicated relationship with swearing. I love it when it is clever or funny and hate it when it is lazy or mean. A good swear can reveal intelligence and a lazy and habitual swear can reveal dumb.
The classically funny baseball book, Ball Four, told of a manager who swore perpetually. But he only had two swear words. Fuckshit and shitfuck. Each was only one word and the players knew how mad he was by which one he used.
Motherfu%#er is an interesting word. It can be said with wrath or with kindness. That guy is a real motherfu%#er. Or that guy is one clever motherfu%#er. In each case, the meaning is clear and one is said with reverence and one is said with disdain. All within the context of six words. One said with a smile and one said genuine scorn.
Bullshit, said with disbelief, and bullshit said with wonder. Two different words. Bullshitter can be a compliment or an insult.
Some swear words are too vile to cross my lips. Few are too vile to cross my mind. But I suppose, the way we swear isn’t as important as the way we think. They are methods of expression and whether we express ourselves clearly or not, is all that matters.
I hope I don’t stub my toe today. Or bang my head. I hope I meet a clever person today. In any case, I might think the word, Motherfu%#er. But I won’t say it. Unless I really get dinged. Shitfuck!!!