Something My Mother Uttered

My mother is a saint. Which is probably why when I read her a previous entry (the one about Stephen Stills. And yes, I read to her because she has never used the internet before, which makes her even more awesome) she was quite taken aback when she heard the word ‘fucked’. This is the point where she said:

Don’t use words like that on the internet!

This made the table laugh, which was a good thing, because our dinner companions, Mr. Netanyahu and Mr. Abbas had just had a heated exchange about some city building ordinance and who the best character on The Jersey Shore was, and it was good to break the tension.

It made me think, though, that maybe my smut filled mouth could use a cleaning. I tend to think words are a powerful thing. Other times, though, I think that words are nothing more than scribbles and chicken scratch; pointless until you make them mean something.

Either way, maybe she’s right and I should watch my mouth a little more. Or my thoughts. Or my thought mouth (which is located somewhere beneath my fourth nipple and my second webbed toe).

As much as I try I doubt this will come to pass. But cursing and using strong language should only be used when the situation fits. Some use it for shock value in so many forms of art that we really are descensitized. It was a much bigger deal to hear an angry Clark Gabel say damn than it is to hear a dissapointed C.K. Louis say shit.

My point is you need to have sense behind using your words, foul or not. Apparently talking about a Stephen Stills song and using the word ‘fucked’ makes perfect sense to me.

How decrepid a culture we have become.

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