DH and I watched a movie last night called, The Commitments. It’s the story of an Irish cover band that sings soul music. Kind of a silly story, but it’s entertaining and it has great music.
And I love Wilson Pickett. (He plays into the movie.) The Commitments was made in 1991, the same year Wilson was inducted into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame.
While we watched the movie, set in Ireland, the F bomb exploded several times. More than several. A whole pile of F***s.
So much that DH asked, “Did the Irish invent that word?”
I couldn’t help but laugh. “No. But they own it.”
F****–one of the strangest words in our language. “An ugly word for a very beautiful pleasure.” It can sometimes be a sexy word, whispered deep in the night, or a raunchy word, screamed in a fit of anger.
I worked with a woman once who never said the F word in her life. Not even alone, with her husband, under any circumstance. He tried to get her to say it many times, in bed and out, but she wouldn’t. Or couldn’t.
On the other end of that spectrum, when in New Orleans once I saw that word on a window at a mall. I stopped and looked again.
FCUK. At first glance, my brain thought it was THE word.
It turned out to be a clothing line, but got me to do what they wanted. I took a second look.
I looked it up for you: French Connection United Kingdom is a company founded in 1972, which sells clothing and accessories in many parts of the world. (Wikipedia)
Okay . . . but why use just the initials? Because, it grabs the attention. (Stopped me cold.) That’s the reason most people use that word. To grab attention. To make an explosion.
There are even abrieviations for it. WTF.
Not a word you want to hear from the mouth of a toddler, but one that’s becoming more and more common. Even romance novels have the word . . . sometimes.
So today I’m curious — What you think? Has F*** lost its shock value or is the bomb is still as explosive as ever?
Like salt, it should be used sparingly–if at all.
A movie laced with F*** turns me off, and I will stop watching it.
I’m no prude, and do use it probably more than I should, and it still shocks me.
I remember listening while Bob and the kiddo watched “Goodfellas.” The profanity was so overdone that I started keeping count. After a period that averaged more than one per minute, I had to leave the room.
The f* word is like any other: it has its place — but, like any other, its place is NOT in every sentence, or every conversation, or even every day. I use it, but judiciously, and now that the grandkiddo’s repeating everything, I’m trying to cut way down back on anything harsher than “darn.”
(And he does repeat everything. Sample conversation:
“Where you going, Grandma?”
“To the bathroom.”
“You going to the bathroom, Grandma?”
“Yes.”
“Granddaddy, Grandma’s going to the bathroom.”
Then, when I return:
“Did you go to the bathroom, Grandma?”
“Yes, I did.”
“Grandma went to the bathroom, Granddaddy. Grandma, did you peepee in the potty?”
And so on .)
LOL. After lunch with the grandbaby today, I met a woman a few days older than me whose grandkids are 15 and 16. Yowza! I don’t even want to do the math!
Unfortunately, it was Cranky Grandchild today. He’s coming down with the yuck we’ve all had, I think. I’ll see him again when he’s feeling better.
I’ve used it occasionally, but I don’t like it. It does have its place, but I will usually try to use a different word if I’m writing.
Dh and I watch a lot of stand up comedy and I hate it when they use so many curse words you can’t understand what they are saying. I want to tell them…that’s not funny. It just shows your very low IQ.