If you know me that well, or have just been around me for a decent amount of time, you’ve probably noticed I don’t use a whole lot of (or any) profanity. I’ve never really seen the need for it in most situations. When was the last time you were talking about someone else and identified their use of profanity as a key characteristic that makes them great? On top of that, there’s a whole image thing associated with it. I think that image evolves over time.
As a kid, it’s a “you can’t tell me what I can and can’t say” sort of thing, probably. I never got into that in school, but then again, I never really had friends that were into that either, so there was no pressure there. Okay, I didn’t have friends. Whatever. After college, from what I can tell, it depends on what you got used to while growing up. In professional environments I heard a lot less of it in Texas than I do in Boston. I think that is part cultural and part social, but the language is still meaningless as far as the words people use having more or less value than any other words.
My dad used to say that profanity was used by people that were too ignorant to build a vocabulary. I don’t really buy that. I think it’s just a habit of overusing strong terms for effect. I’ve heard the smartest and least ignorant people I know use the same words as the biggest morons (there are more of those). I think it’s really more of just a total indifference for the effect that kind of vocabulary has on other people. If I don’t care whether I offend you, how you react to what I say, or your general attitude towards me at all, then I’ll say whatever I want. I, personally, do care somewhat about that, though. I actually like having some kind of control and influence when I interact with people (I’ll get into that more in a second). My choice of language is one of the tools I can use for just that purpose when interacting with people, if I so choose.
The culmination of all of that logic above is why adverse language has never been a part of my vocabulary. It has to do with image. What I say reflects on myself, my beliefs, and whatever I’m speaking about. It’s tough to claim Christianity when everyone considers profanity to be wrong and Christians are supposed to live perfectly (which is a stereotype people have placed on us, but it’s also what the whole Bible is about, so fine). I’ll go ahead, then, and make this summary of myself and my family, because this is all I’m really getting at here:
We don’t use bad words.
That brings about an interesting dynamic to my interaction with anyone at all who knows me. I have as much as, and often more, ability to make my point than absolutely anybody. Period. If I choose my words carefully, I can surprise people with what I say enough that it really gets my point across in a way that I could never accomplish had I not used that kind of language sparingly. I don’t think I’ve used words you can’t say on network TV, but I anticipate that if I did, it would even bring another level to the shock value of me saying something like that. That’s why it is so funny when Cassandra asks if she can sleep in the bed just one night this week and I yell back, “Hell, no!” Really. It’s funny.
From what I can tell from a fairly limited sample size, though, thoughts are a different story. It seems that everybody will think things they would never say. Or at least, people that aren’t known for racy language will think things in racy language and convert them before they actually say them. If there’s an exception, it’s probably my mom, but I doubt that she is any different (regardless of what she’ll admit — and she’s calling me something bad in her head right now for writing that about her of all people).
So all of that said, it brings me to this. Monday, when the news broke about Virginia Tech students being shot in the biggest handgun shooting in U.S. History, I ignored the headlines at first because the stories on these things always become bigger and bigger and eventually you can’t get away from it even when if you try. You always end up tired of hearing about it. This story was no different. The details are inescapable. You’re forced to know the whole story whether you want to or not — and it’s also one of those things that you have to read a little more in depth about when you see a headline because it doesn’t seem real at first.
In the case of this story the things have escalated and it seems the whole thing gets darker and darker. So dark, in fact, that as I thought watched the video the gunman sent to NBC and looked at the photos on their website last night, I could only find one way to describe everything I was seeing to myself. As I thought about it this morning, the exact same thing kept running through my mind, and that’s when I realized something. Everyone is either insensitive beyond comparison or a genuinely bad person if, when they saw any of this, they didn’t think or say the exact same thing as me:
That’s f—– up.
There is absolutely no other description that is as accurate. None. And you can’t think about the entire chain of events without thinking that phrase, and thinking about how f—– up that kid was. And don’t tell me that saying it’s tragic or devastating is the same, because you’re lying to yourself.
I will admit, generally these kinds of stories don’t bother me too much. When things like that happen they are sad, yes, but I don’t get personally involved. I think the only time I can recall having more than a shrug and a “Too bad” reaction is after the Columbine shooting when our school was shut down due to bomb threats. Even that wasn’t because of the shooting, but because it seemed like we were then in danger.
For whatever reason, this one got to me a little bit. Two years ago I was in college in a setting that sounds very much like the one at Virginia Tech. The school is the community. I guess I could relate a little bit more. I can say this. If that had happened at my school, I would have been a cartoon dust cloud getting out of there. Even if I was just at some other college when this happened I would have been waving out of my rear window going 90 mph back home. You can only be on campus so long and going to classes wondering if someone will walk in with a blank face and shoot you in the stomach. That’s probably my second biggest fear, behind invisible cars, and just beating out being stuck outside in the snow in shorts and a t-shirt for an entire night.
When you work in a high profile city, in a high profile public place, and are located in a high profile area of that place for 45 nights a year, you can’t help but think you’re somewhat of a target. Let’s face it. If something horrific happens at a Celtics home game anytime in the next however many years, I’m probably going to be a victim. That’s probably why it’s a little more personal now, and why I think about it a little more. It must be nice to be in Atlanta or Seattle where nobody really goes to NBA games.
Anyway, I guess the whole point is that sometimes certain events can only be described appropriately in a single way. It’s usually the things that only elicit one thought every time you hear them. That’s also when you know something has really had an effect on you. I suppose every person has their own way of dealing with stuff like that, but this is part of how I’m doing it.
Well, that and continuously picturing St. Peter at the Gates Of Heaven telling Cho Seung-hui, “Get the f— out of here.”