The "F" Word
Whoa, whoa, whoa. Shame on you, David Duford! This is still a family blog, for crying out loud! Why the eff are we talking about the “F” word??
Relax, folks. I haven’t gone off the rails, and am not about to begin spouting hardcore profanity within my weekly blog posts. I just thought it would be fun to explore one of the most famous words in our society, to try and figure out why it holds such a revered or despised place among curse words, depending on your perspective. And no, this will not progress into me using the dreaded “C” word moving forward! Sheesh, what the hell is wrong with saying Cumin, anyway? Is it because it’s the most misunderstood spice in the rack? You can rest assured I’ll never publish a post about Cumin. Like, ever.
Let’s dive in, shall we? The origin of the word F, dash, dash, dash (as young Ralphie calls it in A Christmas Story) brings us mixed results when we ask Mr. Google, and his cousin, Wik Ipedia. There are at least a half-dozen early civilizations who used a derivative of F, dash, dash, dash, and they all involve striking, rubbing, or having sex. All the ancient variations begin with the letter F, but then get spelled differently, as if each culture saw what the other was calling their act of striking and rubbing then said, “Damn, we need to one-up those barbarians!” So, at the very least, kudos to subsequent civilizations for getting together and deciding to consolidate and standardize to end up with our modern four-letter “F” word. Who said progress is all bad?
Now, onto what you came for: Some entirely false and entirely hilarious explanations!
One of these urban legends is that the “F” word originated in Irish law. If a couple was caught committing adultery, the two would be punished For Unlawful Carnal Knowledge
Another legend places the origin on a royal permission granted during the Middle Ages. Due to the Black death, villages and towns attempted to control population growth by requiring permission to engage in intercourse. Royal permission is said to have required placing a sign visible from the road reading: Fornicating Under Consent of King. That’s a bit more traumatic than hanging a coat hanger on the doorknob to signal our roommates as to what is transpiring within the apartment, eh? And hey, was there a town official whose job it was to check on each unlabeled home at any given moment to make sure they weren’t breaking the royal decree? And was his name Tom?
There is also a legend about the origin of flashing one’s middle finger to someone to say eff you. The rumor was that French soldiers would cut off the middle finger of English prisoners, so they couldn’t draw their longbows. At the time, wood from the Yew tree was a popular choice to fashion a longbow, and the term for an archer shooting said bow was called plucking Yew. Thus, having one’s middle finger allowed one to pluck Yew. So, to taunt the French soldiers on the battlefield, the English would wave their middle fingers to show they could still pluck Yew. Being the intelligent audience you are, I’m sure you can fill in the blanks to see how pluck Yew could have evolved into our ever-popular phrase and subsequent hand gesture today.
Flashing forward to present day, and the “F” word is used by most folks, including yours truly from time to time (sorry Mom!). Yet, I am fascinated by the many ways it is used and why. As a kid, I learned that F, dash, dash, dash was a forbidden word in my household, until one was of proper age, and even then, it was considered the ultimate in vocabulary transgressions. I wouldn’t even use it with my buddies when we hung out, and I was shocked when they would. When I became an adult, I reserved the “F” word for only the most extreme situations. I remember shortly after I became a stepdad, my college-aged stepdaughter was mad about something and used the “F” word several times in one argument. I admonished her for using it, and she promptly told me to go pluck Yew.
And we all know the person who overuses the “F” word, sometimes for every other word when describing a situation. One such guy was someone I hunted with many years ago. During normal conversations about everyday topics, he rarely used the “F” word, but when describing a day afield, he morphed into an “F” word spewing machine: “The effing deer ran down the effing hill, and I tried to effing aim my effing gun, but an effing branch got in my effing way, and the effing deer effing disappeared through the effing woods!” No, dear reader, that is not an exaggeration.
My wife used the “F” word as a lecture topic during one Psychology class she taught, much to the shocked delight of her students. “Did you hear what she said?” Yet, she hadn’t used it for shock value. She wanted to emphasize how this word has entered our lexicon and how it makes us feel. I mean, let’s face it, there’s a myriad of emotions that can go into a good “F” word, right? It could be negative, like when our favorite sports ball player messes up: “What the eff!” or positive, like when our team wins in overtime: “Eff Yeah!” or to console someone after a bad day: “Dude, that effing sucks!” So many uses! Eff you, eff me, eff this, eff it, eff off, eff that, an eff load, a metric eff ton, and so on.
I've been with friends who’ve said eff you after I have uttered something sarcastic (which is totally uncharacteristic of me, BTW 😉) and I think they're angry, but they are really using the phrase to say something akin to whatever, dude. And I’ll admit, it does still bother me when my grandkids use the word excessively, and sometimes in a context that seems offensive, yet when I step back and think about the word’s commonality, I see that these kids don’t always mean something bad when they say it. It’s become another adjective or adverb, and sometimes a proper noun among recent generations.
So, which side of the effing conversation do you land on? I’d love to see your comments on this topic on my Facebook page: https://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=61571589012782 But, please, people, keep it effing clean will you? I mean, what the eff?!
Thanks for tuning in today. I hope to see you―and some of your friends―here again next week. Until then, whatever you are, be an effing good one!
-Dave
