November 14, 2006
Originally published April 28, 2004
If you've read this blog for any length of time, you know that I am totally fascinated by words and the impact they have on people who read them. I just watched some shit-ass black comic on HBO whose entire act consisted of "niggah," "whoes" and "mutherfucker." The crowd went wild.
I wrote a post about the notorious N-word and a lot of people ceremoniously de-linked me, and called me a racist bastard to boot. I wonder why? It can't be just the word, because that fucking dead-beat comic makes a living calling people "niggahs." Why don't people ceremoniouly boycott his concerts?
That's because it's not the word that matters. It's the PERCEPTION that counts. I am a Southern white male. I can't say "niggah." If I say that word, I am branded a racist. Let some jive-ass fool on HBO with black skin say the same thing over 100 times in a 30-minute stand-up act and he's fucking hilarious.
I don't like double-standards.
I also don't like a lot of words in the English language. Take "penis," for example. That's about the most obscene-sounding word I ever heard. It's even worse than "ointment." I LIKE Roscoe, but I don't claim to have a "penis." Penis sounds like some kind of intestinal parasite you pick up in a Third World country because you didn't boil the water before you drank it.
How about "vagina" or "clitoris?" Those words sound like medical conditions where the doctor calls the family in to inform them that the patient has less than 24 hours to live. "The vagina has spread and we can't stop it. Plus, a case of clitoris has set in, also. I'm afraid that our most powerful antibiotics won't do any good."
Try "cock." Yes, if you want to see my cock, I'll show it to you. It hangs right between my legs where a "penis" is supposed to be. But I don't have a penis. I have a cock.
I don't want to see your "vagina" or your "clitoris." Let me see your pussy and let me play with The Man in the Boat. We can make beautiful music together as long as we get our language straight.
Words. If you want to detect a true liar and a con-artist right away, just check the language. That's how "gender" came to mean sex, a "woman's right to choose" came to mean abortion and "moderate Rebublican" came to mean a fucking RINO. Dishonesty made stone.
And all you people who de-linked me can kiss my Cracker ass. As Jack Nicholson said in A Few Good Men: "You don't want the truth! You can't handle the truth!"
A lot of people can't.
All content © Rob Smith