F*ckitty F*cking F*ck

I completely lack sympathy today. Maybe I’m a little too sensitive, but not so sensitive that I believe foul language is detrimental to the health and well-being of the younger generation. Shit like that only has the power you give it. Teach your kids that foul language isn’t for you — and thusly isn’t for them — then pat yourself on the back at a job well done.

Because if the most offensive thing you run across in a day (hell — week, month, year) is the word “fuck,” then go ahead and count yourself as infinitely luckier than a huge chunk of the planet’s population.

Was your home just damaged in an outbreak of tornados? No? Then fuck yeah! Was your entire family lost in a typhoon? No? Motherfucking fuck yeah! Have you had to leave your birthplace, with nothing but the clothes on your back, to live in a shanty town as a refugee from ethnic cleansing? No? Then hell motherfucking fuck yeah!

Were you raped? Were you murdered? Were you affected by gun violence or cancer? Did you get a flat tire? Did you lose your keys? Are you having a bad hair day?

No? No, none of those things happened to you? Then get ahold of yourself.

There are people who are poor. Who are starving. Who are dying. Who ran out of hairspray. And you’re upset because “fuck” is a popular word amongst people using social media on site that at least one of your children is too young to have an account on?

Don’t be that person. Just don’t.

Teach them that you don’t tolerate profanity, and then teach them there are far more tragic things in this world.