Swear Words : the Cross Person's Lifeblood.

Journalists are to blame for the recently-invented system of referring to certain swear words as 'the F-word' and 'the N-word' etc. This is at once self-righteous, namby-pamby, and lacking in courtesy. The journalist thinks 'The readers will admire me and think I am very sensitive and caring.' The readers actually think 'Never again will I read a single word written by this smug tick who expects me to believe he can't bring himself to swear.' Advice, Columnists: If you can't talk plainly about it avoid the subject altogether.

 

Unfortunately, though, it seems that there are some people who have embraced the idea, and say 'F-word' etc. in common parlance. This is NOT GOOD. Euphemisms are a bad thing on the whole. If you write 'B*st*rd' in order to shield your child from accidental exposure to foul language, the conversation will follow these lines :

 

Child (looking at mother's diary): Mummy, what does B, star, saint, star, road mean?

Mummy (considers, then blenches): That's a rude word, dear. You mustn't use it. Please don't read my diary.

Child (later, addressing its baby brother): Give me that toy, you little B-star-saint-star-road.

 

and thus does B-star-saint-star-road become a swear word in its own right, though admittedly not a very slick one.

 

The name of a particular willow-grower has similarly achieved swearword status in this house because I have been supplied with poor quality willows. These willows when I used them caused me to cry out the willow-grower's name in a tone of, at first, reproach, and subsequently such fury that nearby children would whimper and run cowering to their mothers. The expletive is no longer confined to willow-specific anger and I now feel the same degree of reluctance to speak the name in decent company, as those journalists do concerning their F- and N- words.
You will understand that I can not write the new-born swear word here due to fear of being sued for libel. Otherwise I would use it liberally when complaining about things, which is the raison d’être of this G-AHLK blog.

Bolt of willow waiting to make me swear.