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someone is wrong on the internet

You may not have noticed, but I cuss a lot

People who have read my blog for a while may have noticed that I use rather… salty language. In the past, I’ve been accused of having a mouth like a trucker. Can’t say it’s wrong. And think about this – I actually cuss way less than I did about five years ago. Having a little niece that I adore to bits has had the effect of making me more aware of what I say and how I say it, as has just being a writer.

But here’s something else you should know. When I cuss in writing, I mean it. The occasionally f-bomb might trip unthinkingly from my lips, but those four letters don’t just type themselves. I have in the past actually gone over my blog posts and carefully rearranged the bad words, sometimes adding, sometimes subtracting.

Because words have meaning. And curse words have a great emotional, emphatic load to them, which is why I use them.

My opinions are my own, and when I’m on my own time and my own dime, I will express them in the way find most effective. On my blog, no one else gets to dictate the terms of this debate. And if someone determines the worthiness of an opinion based solely on their judgment that the language is sufficiently elevated, they have my pity. Pretty prose can be window dressing for an ugly idea, but no matter how much frosting and fondant you put on a cake made from manure, that doesn’t change the fact that it’s still something that passed through the anus of a large mammal.

It drives me batty when I see people mix up your/you’re and they’re/there/their, for example. But if the worst criticism I can think of someone’s argument is that their grammar is terrible (presuming that their grammar is not so horrific that I can actually understand what they’re saying) then I have already lost. “Oh yeah? Well, you’re ugly!” stopped being a worthwhile debate tactic upon leaving grade school. It just means that you actually have nothing of worth to add but still want to wave your verbal fists in impotent, angry disagreement.

You don’t like my opinion? Fine. You don’t like my opinion because I scorched your delicate ears with my use of the f-bomb? I mean this in all sincerity: get the fuck over it.

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