Kei runga ngā manu i te whare e waiata ana, i tēnei ata. 🕊
I don’t mind if you swear. The occasional blast, drat, flip, heck or even damn – when you drop your favourite anvil on your toe for the third time this morning – doesn’t phase me in the least. Just don’t do it in every motherfucking cunt of a sentence. I went to a play last night. The play had the c-word in it. Cunt! The actress spat the word from her lips as if … as if … Oh, I don’t know, she just spat it. Hissssss! Grrrrr. Apparently, this unspeakably filthy sequence of letters had been scrawled in 3-foot high red scribblings on the boards covering an empty window frame. It wasn’t clear to me whether or not the word was intended to shock the audience. I had no idea what the fuck the play was about until afterwords (when I read the brochure), and I wasn’t alone in my bewilderment. It wasn’t worth the $40 I spent, but a friend had a small part in it, so my attendance was not optional. I know people who would have a problem with this word being used. It is, after all, considered to be among the strongest of the English language [citation please. get fucked] I know people that don’t mind the profanity in movies such as Good-Will-Hunting (which isn’t particular strong) because it’s an accurate portrayal of how the characters in the story would/do actually speak. So, why do they get offended when real people actually speak that way? Words have power, so they say. Bullshit, so I say. Words have no intrinsic power. Words do not even exist. Words are abstract concepts, just like numbers and mathematics. They are the disembodied embodiment of ideas. This all made perfect sense in the early hours of the morning. It was a lead-up to a mind-blowing something-or-other regarding grammar and how you are able to read this sentence. If I could only remember. It’s like when you have a dream within which the meaning of life is laid out before you in full clarity. But you’re too much of a dumb-fuck to wake up and write it down. In the morning there is only a fleeting remnant of something profound rapidly slipping from your grasp. Shit. Well, the All-Blacks annihilated the Wallabies. That’s good enough for me.
Fuck. The screwdriver slipped again gouging another cut across the back of Jason’s hand but the door was open and he dived into the back seat of the Falcon scrambling desperately for the cloth-wrapped package. Fucking mother-of-motherfuckers. It wasn’t there. That cunt Marie had set him up. Larry was going to have his balls on a barbecue, but not before Jason settled a score with Marie. He knew where she would be and he would fuck that whore’s ass to the end of the earth before stuffing her with Peruvian death-peppers and snapping her pretty little everbitching neck. A cold rain was falling and Jason broke into a run down Herons-Bluff avenue.