OPINION — Editorial

Watch your mouth

A little swearing might help that thumb

You taught me language,

and my profit on't,

Is I know how to curse.

--Caliban, The Tempest

We knew a Cajun lady who never uttered a curse word in her life. Never. Ever. It's doubtful she ever heard many curse words, either, not among the church crowd she frequented. But she stubbed her toe like everybody else. So her preferred shouts of hurt or disgust were, shall we say, not of the four-letter variety. They were more in the lines of "My lands!" and "Fie!" and "Fiddlesticks!"

But, it turns out, there's a case for cursing.

Not all cursing, mind you. As with everything, moderation is key. So is context. It's been a while since a drill sergeant introduced us to that whole new lexicon of the language, including some pretty elaborate variations of his own. But if you curse every time your left foot hits the ground--as he did--what the hell are you supposed to say when you slam your finger in the door? That's not satisfying cussin', that's just crude.

Language is supposed to be a distinguishing mark of our species. And the right words might even relieve some of our pain.

The other day, the New York Times reminded us of a couple-three studies that show using profanity can actually stave off pain and might even increase strength. In one study, folks who were allowed to cuss kept their hands in a bucket of ice water longer than those who weren't. Another study showed those pedaling bikes or squeezing a hand dynamometer could get a little more oomph with a few more, um, "golf words." And it didn't take a study to prove it to us. Remind us of the time a 200-foot-long snake charged us in the backyard, and how much faster we could run while turning the air blue above us.

Words are powerful things. Like guns, some should never be taken out of the gun cabinet. (Who needs a 4-gauge shotgun around here, and what are you going to shoot with it? A blimp?) But when you're going down a path in an Arkansas park, and a bear or wild boar or run-of-the-mill gris-gris appears out of nowhere, what are you going to scream? Jeepers? Who's going to come to the aid of Jeepers? What self-respecting bear would be afraid of that word? No, at that point, it's all in. And anything said in the earshot of mama must be forgiven.

And, it should be noted, what about inner harmony? Remember trying to assemble the bike the night before the big birthday party? Sometimes it takes a cussin' fit to restore the humors.

Another study published in Social Psychological and Personality Science (get us a subscription!) shows that there may be a link between a person who swears and . . . honesty. The researchers found that "profanity was associated with less lying and deception at the individual level." What other level would there be for cursing? Can profanity be collective?

It might have been Mark Twain who said he was once asked on a job interview if he ever swore. He said only out of necessity, never for pleasure. It's a good rule. Especially in this age when the funny fake-news people on cable television can't seem to get through one sentence without shelling all civility into smithereens.

In this age, with this media, with some of the things we see in the papers, there's no doubt better manners would be a welcome change. But that thumb isn't going to un-hit itself with a hammer. And that 200-foot-long snake isn't going to be a-feared by an inky wretch yelling "Fiddlesticks!"

There's not much a body can do when, as Twain reminds, swearing is a necessity. Sometimes, as the old song says, it's in 'im, and it got to come out.

Editorial on 08/19/2017

Upcoming Events