Showing posts with label shit. Show all posts
Showing posts with label shit. Show all posts

Friday, April 18, 2014

A Word on Cussing

To cuss is to say "bad words." That assumes there are bad words. Or perhaps to cuss is to curse, which would mean to curse someone or something.

If we say that the word (the sound and letters of a word) is the bad thing, then we come across some problems. In Spanish the word "puta" is very very "bad." It'd be as bad as "fuck" or "bitch" in English. So if you're in the desert somewhere and you just spontaneously say "puta" then you said a bad word, because we are granting that just saying a bad word is the bad thing. The problem is that some words, like "puta," are in other words. In Spanish, you spell computer "computadora." See? ComPUTAdora. So by saying computer in Spanish you have said a bad word. Of course no one will agree that saying comPUTAdora is a bad thing, so it can't be the case that just sounding out a "bad word" is a bad thing. There are other "bad words"—and I assume in all languages—that are embedded in other words.

So what about intention? If someone says, "You're a bitch," to a respectable woman? Was the "bitch" part the bad part? It seems like it would be equally bad or worse to say to the respectable woman, "You're a nasty, ugly, promiscuous dog. You're such a disgusting dog. You're a dog." So it seems the bad thing in both of those was the intention and meaning behind the word and not the word itself. I could tell the woman, "Hello. When I say "tum tum" I mean whore. You're a tum tum!" You can make any word mean anything, just by making it clear what you mean by it. And you can contrast this with this: When you're buddy hits a home run, you might say, "Hell ya, bitch!" And you're not insulting anyone, and your intention is one of motivation and encouragement, a good thing. Again, the word itself is not the bad thing.

What about the joy of just saying a bad word because it's bad? Again it's not that simple. Yes, some people (maybe me) enjoy cussing because it's cool because it's bad because bad things are cool for some reason. We won't go into that here. So I go around in fourth grade saying, "Fuck ya bitch. This is bitchin'. What the fuck do you guys wanna do? Let's go fuck around. This shit is stupid. School is fucking stupid. My teacher is a cunt," and I would simply be reveling in the fact that I'm being bad, which equals cool. I would say that this here is an instance of bad words being bad, because they are tools that are being used for evil—perhaps to offend or whatever. That would tie in to intention as well. If you're intention is to offend, then it is bad, but the tools themselves (the cuss words, the bad words) aren't necessarily the bad things. It's what's in my rotten black heart bitch! And even just wanting to offend people isn't necessarily a bad thing. Offending can be used to make people laugh or learn, and sometimes an "offensive" thing is a good thing that is simply offensive to confused people. It's okay to want to offend Satan worshipers by telling them they are insane, or you know... some sort of good example like that.

But to want to offend someone just for the sake of offending them would be bad.

But, before we move on, it must be said that many people grow up simply using "bad words" without trying to be cool or bad. To some people the are normal words, and sometimes if they begin as words that are used to try to be cool or bad, sometimes they turn into normal, everyday words that are just being used to work the language and not to try to be cool or bad.

So I suppose simply saying bad words to be bad would be a bad thing, and it would be making letters and sounds into tool of evil. But the real bad part is that there is revelry in being cool and bad, not the words themselves. Because us bad folk would say "goat cheese" all day, if it was considered bad.

What about a real curse that doesn't even include standard "bad words?" Well there you have it. Cursing doesn't need bad words. I can say "fuck you," "go to hell," "fuck off and die," or I can say, "I hope you die a horrible death." All of these are curses of sorts, but again it's the sentiment that matters and not the letters and sounds. The fact is that the bad thing is your ill will toward someone.

And finally, what is vulgar? Our culture has deemed certain things vulgar, so vulgar indeed that movies are deemed too vulgar to watch for underage folks simply because they say "fuck" or some such word a certain amount of times (probably an arbitrary amount of times). So what is vulgar? Obviously "vulgar" means "of the common folk." That's kind of an insulting term then. Vulgar is bad because it is of the common folk? And who are the "common" folk? Poor people! Hooray! The things that poor people do are bad because it's poor people that are doing them, and the things that rich, royal people do are good because they're rich and royal. Those things are "proper" and good. So it would be vulgar to say "dude" or common terms like that at a dinner with the king of Saudi Arabia. Equally, it would be bad to go to your ugly girlfriend's house to meet her religious parents and start flinging "fucks" all over the goddam place...

BUT WHY?

Because society says so? The Bible doesn't say so. God doesn't say so. So, why? Society? All citizens of a country didn't get together and deem a word "bad" in general. These words simply evolved and turned bad when some people started using them in a negative (evil?) way. "Fag" used to mean cigarette. Now if you say "faggot" it's offensive, because people used it to do evil. That's why words are "bad." They're not really bad, but society (the evolution and succession of every new age) frowns on them. Society (ideas passed on to all of us that we all agree on passively) says certain things are offensive because of where they came from; they have a bad history. I suppose a word like "fuck" became bad when it was overly used to speak coarsely about sex. There you have it.

I wrote this on a whim, so if my philosophy is a bit weak you can just fuck off. And by "fuck off" I mean "take it easy."

Tuesday, February 19, 2013

A Case of Supervenience: An Incredible Case of Supervenience

This was INCREDIBLE and could not be made up. FUCK THIS. TRUE STORY.

So, after a ten week bender (I literally got drunk for ten horrible days), I sobered up for an even four days. Four days. OK? Four days.

Still hazy from this bullshit, I had to go back to grad school (I had even missed one week on accident). So after four days of hazy sweaty, cold, nightmare nights of sleep I went back to school, and I was on the brink of feeling better. I spent the whole first day back to school well, but that night was (unsurprisingly) nasty. Still though, I went to "sleep" (AKA hurtful bolking, routing, rucking, eructating, whatever-you-wanna-call-it, weird dreams, not sleeping, endless thinking, weird thoughts, et al.).

AND HERE IT COMES.

The second night, around eight post meridian (PM), I was seriously about to crash and go to sleep sleep. I was so joyful! I literally walked into my car and nearly fell asleep. Let me explain.

After ten days of binging, you don't get much real sleep. And after four days of "sleep" your body starts getting used to the idea of sleep. And then, your body really wants sleep. So, around eight post meridian on the fifth day of my sobriety, and after one day of hardcore philosophical grad school, my mind and body was ready to fucking rest. I mean really fucking ready to rest peacefully.

BUT NO.

I was falling asleep, and responsibly I made myself eat a quick meal. I could hardly keep my eyes open. I was SO happy. I was falling asleep asleep. I parked my car next to the school at that time, which meant that all the kiddies had gone away too, and there was an abundance of parking right next to the school—free parking right in front of the school. Wow. Thank God. I ate. I crawled to the back of my car and fell asleep.

I sleep in my car in Los Angeles when I come up for school three days out of the week for my Master of Philosophy program at Biola University.

I dozed off. I was gone. I had headphones on, with Coldplay whisking me away to sleep. And I went to sleep.

At four ante meridian (AM) or around there... I WAS JOLTED AWAKE BY MY BOWELS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I literally have to put that many exclamation marks to make my fucking point. At four ante meridian I was forced straight up from my sleeping position into a sitting position.

I held my gut so HARD.

OH SHIT... LITERALLY.

I fucking grabbed my gut and made my way to the driver's seat. Nope. This SHIT was literally going to SPILL out of me that instant. I jumped out of the car holding my gut.

What could I do? I looked across the street? Could I take a fucking shit in the bushes across the street? Could I even make it that far? This SHIT was coming fast and furious and out of nowhere.

No.

I couldn't make it across the goddam street.

I leaned on my car and groaned. HOLY FUCK. Was this really happening to me at four ante meridian??? It was fucking still dark out. I groaned. It was happening. Either I was going to shit myself on the spot, or I was going to run to a nearby bush (stuck to the school) and shit behind it.

I hobbled like a fucking Hobbit behind the bush next to the building of the school. I found a strange square contraption next to the bush. I squatted. I pulled my fucking PJs down to my ankles and took a crazy shit right there on the school's property. I could literally hear the security guards making their rounds around the building. Can you believe this? This is a true story that happened to me on February 19th of the Lord's year 2013.

I squatted like a bum behind a bush and took a full shit. There was no thinking about: where is the toilet paper? who is looking? what do I do after the shit? how do I go on as a real human after this? what is normal and OK to do as far as being a respectful human? None of that could matter, when SHIT was splurting and splashing and exploding out of my fucking ass without asking me if I could wait to find a proper venue!!!  There it was. A big fucking messy, shitty (literally do I have to say), wobbly, holy hell, fuckup, nasty, brown, black, nasty mess of a wet mess of shit was beneath me.

It was an incredible case of supervenience (look it up).

I was so incredibly relieved. I mean, when you have to take a shit, I guess you just have to. And I took it–right there and then I had to.

And now... there I was with a weird mess of shit to deal with and a dirty asshole (as if assholes aren't dirty enough already).

What do you do? Ivan? Ismael? Josh? Daniel? George? Sam? Priscilla? What do you do?

Phew, it was a relief though. I stood straight up (all 5'4'' of me) with my pants down and looked at the splashy mess. And then...

OH SHIT, I thought. I can't just leave my asshole unclean and a pile of shit at my school's bush! So, I took off my pants off, grabbed my underwear and wiped my ass real hard (only once), and then I grabbed all of my real shit on the ground (as much as I could) with my wiped-ass underwear, and then I was left with a ball of underwear shit and a half cleaned ass.

I was left with a ball of underwear with shit in it, and my ass was half (or less) cleaned. Every time you wipe your ass, you check it at least several times. This time I could only wipe my ass once and be done with it! I pulled my pants back up and clenched my ass, until I knew what I would do next (you know, so that I wouldn't get ass-shit on my PJs).

After a couple cars drove by, and after I could hear the guards weren't around, I ran to my car with shit in my hand and threw it behind one of the wheels of my car. What else could I do? This is no joke!!!

And then I breathed a sigh of relief.

It was all over. I didn't have to shit anymore! It was over! I was human again! I didn't have to grab my gut out of nowhere and wonder where I was going to take an immediate shit anymore! I felt amazing...

BUT...

There was still a ball of underwear with a bunch of shit in it behind my wheel, my asshole was still only half cleaned, it was still around four ante meridian, and there was still some shit left behind the bush next to my school's building.

I took a deep breath. I smelled my hands hard to see if there were any specks of shit on them (as far as I could tell [and after being in such a bad spell of being hungover and curing myself] there was no shit on my hands). I jumped into my car. HAH! I put on some clean underwear, and I thought to myself...

"Well, it's supposed to rain today. Maybe the rain will wash the rest of my shit away from the bush."

And there I sat and tried to sleep again in the ante meridian, with a half cleaned ass in clean underwear and questionable PJs.

THIS REALLY HAPPENED. IT HAD NEVER HAPPENED TO ME BEFORE, AND NOW I AM MORE UNDERSTANDING OF "BUMS" WHO PERHAPS HAVE TO GO THROUGH SIMILAR THINGS ON A REGULAR BASIS.

All of this was quite amazing.

I hope it rains today.