Cussing

I grew up hearing my dad and grandpa cuss. My brother and I would sit at the open kitchen window where Dad would be working on his car in the driveway, just waiting ... inevitably, he would let loose with a line of profanities that would make a sailor blush. We'd just giggle like the idiots we were. Mother warned us within an inch of our lives NEVER to repeat those words! I never did as a child, but I remember my little brother tasted more than his fair share of soap. I believed her when Mother said she'd wash out our mouths with soap, but little brother constantly tested her! Mom lightened up as we got older, and we even heard a couple of expletives escape her own lips when we were adults, which delighted us to no end. I developed "color" in my own language, speaking and writing, as an expression of free speech, and a means of liberation from evangelical religious brainwashing. My late great friend Chad and I, on polar opposite ends of political and religious spectrums, agreed we are obligated to say, write and publish forbidden things as a means of preserving free speech. Outrage at blue language is just a red herring, a form of hypocrisy. There are way worse things to be offended by in this world than coarse language. Let's focus on them. And I scoff at sanctimonious snobs who claim cussing is a sign of lack of intelligence or talent. That is unadulterated, pure b#llsh!t! I know better, some situations and stories call for it to preserve authenticity, and many of our best writers and artists do it. It's not always appropriate everywhere around everyone, but to everything there is a season ... and that includes cussing up a blue streak.
--Michael Hathaway, Publisher of Chiron Review


Michael's essay was inspired by an article that he saw at CNNHealth. The title of the artice is "Why swearing is a sign of intelligence, helps manage pain and more". Here's the link to that article: https://www.cnn.com/2021/01/26/health/swearing-benefits-wellness/.  

And here's a photograph of Michael Hathaway's Grandpa Hathaway:

 

Michael Hathaway wrote this ode to his grandfather, Willie Roberts Hathaway. I'm glad to be able to share it here:


Ode to Grandpa Hathaway

for Willie Roberts Hathaway, 1913-1996

he died of a stroke today, age 83, in his favorite chair
at home. his youngest grandchild playing at his feet.
grandma puttering around the house. no symptoms. no
warnings. no lingering, no nursing home. just the blink
of an eye. could anyone ask for more than that?
he was a loud cranky funny hillbilly farmer. he ignored
church. the good ladies of the First Missionary Baptist
Church in St. John, America were convinced (praise
Gawd!) he was headed for hell in a handbasket
i wasn’t real close to him but like to think i inherited some
word-slinging talent from him. i pondered this the day i
walked into his house just in time to hear him shout
HOLY GOD DAMN SHIT ON THE EARTH!
i figured only a true poet could string a phrase like that.

--Michael Hathaway


And now a personal note from me, Carl Miller Daniels.  I very much enjoyed Michael Hathaway's essay about cussing, and appreciate him letting me post his essay here, along with the photograph of his grandfather, and the ode that's dedicated to him. And I enjoyed getting to read that CNN article too. I never felt guilty about my own cussing, and yes, I do a lot of it, but now that I know all this cussing is actually good for me, maybe I'll do even more!

Happy Saturday!
Carl Miller Daniels