Sam seems to be doing better thank god. No permanent damage, no ruptured tendons as he insisted was the case while lamenting "well... I guess I need to choose another career. I can never be a musician." I held back from reminding him that Django only had 2 fingers and still tore it up, but then a surge of big-sisterly-snootiness overtook me and I said "See? This is what it's like to feel depressed. Sucks, huh?"
This was in response to a lifetime of my blissfully contended brother observing my bouts of anxiety depression obsession and self doubt the same way a beach towel might consider a volleyball... why all that bouncing soaring pounding nauseating spiraling hysteria? Why get smacked around all day by angry women when you can just lie on the sand and have them lounge atop you? This is the kid whose first girlfriend was a beautiful blonde heiress who flew him to her private peninsula complete with houses cabins docks and boats. Private fucking peninsula. I spend highschool cramming for AP classes, being class president, and meticulously concocting the ingredients of a fairytale relationship only to end up with an eating disorder and an alcoholic nutjob while Sam basically sleeps and smokes his way into a fucking romance novel.
But while we're on the subject of fucking... one of my loyal readers who also happens to be my loyal aunt mentioned a friend of hers read this blog and thinks I say fuck too much. My first instinct was, of course, to tell that friend to go fuck herself. Who the fuck does she think she fucking is? Go read Dr. Laura's blog if you want things kept clean.
But after some fucking consideration I realized that my love of etymology has never ventured into the furtive forest of fuck and so I decided to do some further fucking research.
There are many theories as to the origin of fuck. Some say it comes from one or a combination of a cornucopia of language roots:
The Swedish focka -strike push
The Swedish fock -penis
The French se foutre- to care nothing
The German ficken- to itch, scratch, make quick movements to and fro
The Latin facare- to do, to make
The Dutch fugtig- damp, musty
I learned the word has its fair share of fucklore, if you will. Some falsely surmise it originated as a medieval battlefield taunt (holding up your middle arching finger and shouting 'pluck you' was a way to rub in the fact that the soldiers had been victorious and would be able to fight again), others claim it's actually an acronym (False Use of Carnal Knowledge, Fornication Under the Christian King...). The fact of the matter is that although it was coyly referenced in euphemism by Shakespeare, C.S. Lewis, and James Joyce, its most popular advertisement came from a Louis Armstrong song entitled Ol' Man Mose, chorus below:
(We believe) He kicked the bucket,
(We believe) Yeah man, buck-buck-bucket,
(We believe) He kicked the bucket and ol' man mose is dead,
(We believe) Ahh, fuck it!
(We believe) Buck-buck-bucket
Which basically means that the reason people use the word Fuck is because some guy couldn't think of a rhyme for bucket. Seriously, can you? Nantucket... that's all I got.
Despite its humble beginnings, fuck blossomed into veritable verbal fucking manna- for no other word can convey so many things for so many people in so many different situations:
Fuck can be used in an endless number of ways, its grammar malleability showcased by the
transitive verb form- she fucked him
intransitive verb- he likes to fuck
adjective- where did all the fucking doritos go?
adverb- you talk too fucking much
noun- who gives a flying fuck?
verb- don't fuck with me buster.
exclamation- Holy fuck!
But what really struck me was despite the fact that fuck came from far and wide, its countries of origin are fucked when it comes to the handy applicability we enjoy here in the USA
In French, "He's a great fuck" is "C'est un bon coup" but "He's a fuckup" is "C'est un pauvre con" while "Fuck off" is "Va chier!" (I don't speak fantastic French so don't slaughter me for translation). The list goes on. They are missing out on the simplistic beauty of our Fuck... a fuck which can be used to describe joy, disappointment, surprise, anger, and an endless host of other emotions. A true chameleon, Fuck should be celebrated for its versatility and efficiency- it's the ipod of profanity, the Bard of bawdiness, the Hercules of lewd, the frosting on the birthday cake of foulmouthed filth.
So what have I learned? Perhaps I could use more restraint, but we're all adults here... and if the best way I can think of to describe a music tour in which 1/3 of my band goes from jazz-god to limbless-lad in a month is "a fucking disaster," I'm not going to hold back. It would be patronizing. I think too much of you to dress my posts up in bonnets and powder their noses before publishing.
However, I will admit that perhaps due to its vunderful versatility I might use a fucking fuck-crutch a little more than fucking necessary to inject edginess into anotherwise bland sentence. And after what I have learned, fuck has come too far, has blossomed too magnificently in its unparallelled functionality, to be taken for granted. Like fine china, perhaps fuck should only be taken out for the most special of circumstances... if the pope comes to visit or something.
Or maybe, rather than being a crazy celibate monk about my fucks, I should simply learn to appreciate and truly savor them instead of hurling them around like fucks grow on trees. The world is a splendid place full of many complex beautiful things awaiting our attention, and we can choose to hurry past, or to bask in their fucking glow.
So have a lovely evening folks. Hug your families. Breath some fresh air. Be patient with yourselves. I, for one, am not going to frivolously fritter my beautiful things away just for the heck of it.
But sometimes, and in some contexts, something feels so right it can't be wrong.