Has anyone else noticed the excessive shock and disgust with which our talking news heads have reported Illinois Governor Rod Blagojevich’s liberal use of the F-word? In the first couple days of the scandal, Blagojevich’s (and his wife’s) potty mouths received more attention than their actual deeds.

Senate seat, a children’s hospital, editorial writers: Everything is for sale. The Blagojevichs are the Baltimore Ravens of the pay for play world. (Should someone check on their kids?) So why the media preoccupation with style over substance? Are Chris Matthews, Lou Dobbs, and Sean Hannity (to name a few) as truly offended as much as they claim? Or could it be they’re just trying to keep the “pure” in puritanical?  

I love words. I’m attracted to their etymology, to the complexity and simplicity–and to their inevitable malleability. Of course, I have my limits. I will never accept impact as a verb or aggravate as a synonym for irritate. I literally hiss when I hear the wince inducing “revert back.” But the F-bomb, used in art, literature, or private conversation does not offend me. In fact, it can, in the right circumstances, be quite effective. Powerful.

Let me just stop here and say that I would not use the F-word in front of your mother–or even mine, most of the time–at a formal professional function, or in my classroom. More than once, though, I have wished that I could create a lesson around the word fuck. Fuck can be quite illustrative in discussing parts of speech.  

Fuck as noun

Examples: Fat Fuck, Lazy Fuck, Stupid Fuck. Sure, one could substitute Ass in each of those instances. But it loses power. One exception is Dumb Ass.  That just works.  

Fuck as adjective

Examples: Fucking ridiculous, fucking great, or, most popular, fucking bullshit. Once again, substitutes dilute meaning and emotional impact.

Fuck as exclamation

Examples: Fuck! Fuckin’ a! Do I really have to explain this?

Fuck as verb

Examples: OK, I don’t want this to be awkward. But we’re all adults here, right? We can probably agree that a throatily whispered,” Make love to me” has its time and place. But if I’m in the throes of the act I am much more likely to scream something else that I want you to do to me.

Our culture has accepted the transformation of other words; spam, gay, and the previously mention verb impact come to mind. Why not fuck?  There are times when it is actually less offensive than the term it is supplanting. Isn’t “fucktard” more sensitive than that word that so many teens use? And how about borrowing from across the ocean and using “For fuck’s sake,” instead of taking the Lord’s name in vain, which greatly bothers some of my Christian friends.

The millenials seem to get it. But then, they also seem to use the C-word with some regularity. So I guess I’ll have to ponder that.

As for Rod Blagojevich? What a Dumb Fuck.  

If you live in the O.C., and you’re interested in volunteering for the Obama effort, come to an organizational meeting tonight (Monday).

The meeting is in Randolph, 7 p.m., at Village Pizza.  

(The CURTAIN RISES to reveal a modest, shabby chic [OK, maybe shabby chick] living room of a renovated old schoolhouse. Outside, it is snowing. Heavily.  Nestled in the corner of a loveseat, wrapped in a fleece blanket, sits SERENITY. Attractive, but engrossed in MSNBC’s 7 p.m. airing of Hardball, SERENITY looks considerably younger than her 44 11/12 years. Pacing back in forth is SERENITY’s 16-year-old daughter, NATHALIE. NATHALIE is on the phone, talking to her older sister, JOHANNA-MARIA, an 18-year-old college student at the University of North Florida. )

NATHALIE: Mom, JoJo says I’m not her backbone anymore.

SERENITY: Why aren’t you her backbone?

NATHALIE (into the phone): Mom wants to know why I’m not your backbone!

SERENITY (perturbed at having to tear away from the always charismatic CHRIS MATTHEWS, she nonetheless takes a nanosecond to note that “got your back” has been replaced; time to check with the Urban Dictionary.):  No . . . why aren’t you your sister’s backbone, anymore? (She returns her loving gaze to CHRIS MATTHEWS.)

NATHALIE: (laughing) Mom! (laughs again) Well, she wants me to talk you into buying her plane tickets to come home for the Snowboard Grand Prix. But I told her you were buying her a laptop (laughs when SERENITY glares at her) even though I was supposed to keep it secret. Now she wants me to tell you to buy her tickets, anyway!

(SERENITY has tuned out everything save the compelling and intelligent words of her secret-fantasy-man.)

NATHALIE: Mom, JoJo wants to talk to you, now.

SERENITY (She knows that ignoring her precious children because of a cable TV show is not a great self-esteem builder, but priorities are priorities. Anyway, she already talked to once, today-and discovered that her daughterJOHANNA-MARIA had spent two hours on the beach in the 85-degree weather ): Not now. (This time she doesn’t even bother to look away from CHRIS MATTHEWS.)

NATHALIE: She can’t talk. She’s in love with the Hardball guy (laughs).

SERENITY: He has testicular cancer.

NATHALIE: (stricken) He has cancer?! (into the phone) I know!

SERENITY: (laughs guiltily) No . . . I was kidding .  . . you said “hardball” . . .

(They all laugh. But not CHRIS MATTHEWS. Relishing the prospect of the Philadelphia machine-which most assuredly will back HILLARY CLINTON–clashing with the OBAMA campaign, he earnestly explores that possibility)

FADE    

Well, maybe I’m still buzzed.

I’m just so thrilled by the sense of enthusiasm that has spread across the country. Whatever the driving motivation behind it, apathy does not seem to be a problem.

Hold onto your hats, peeps. This is going to be some ride.  

A few weeks ago, I created a diary (my first) in which I attempted to qualify my support of Barack Obama. I say attempted because I was still, at that time, somewhat reticent to write about my feelings-mostly because they were . . . feelings. Political wonks tend to react derisively to feelings-based decisions. And, as a writer, I am cognizant of the adage, Know your market.

But I’m an intrapersonal learner.  That diary was a sort of first draft in my attempts at qualifying-indeed, quantifying-my support of Obama. Since then, fortifying myself with daily doses of Green Mountain Daily, reddit, Digg, CNN, MSNBC, and yes, even Fox News, I’ve written dozens of pieces. In my head, anyway. Realities such as work, children, and relationships take up a considerable amount of time.

The thing is-the fact that many people just don’t want to admit-feelings play a huge part in our politics. How can they not?  When we-as voters, thinkers, and humans-contemplate issues such as Iraq, education, and healthcare, make no mistake: We’re feeling. We simply have to reconcile it with that other part of us, the part that eats up the polls and the demographics. The part that knows it’s dangerous and simplistic to be ruled by our emotions. Well, I’m here to tell you that synthesis is possible.

The reasons for supporting Barack Obama cannot be stated any more eloquently than today’s LA Times endorsement.

An Obama presidency would present, as a distinctly American face, a man of African descent, born in the nation’s youngest state, with a childhood spent partly in Asia, among Muslims. No public relations campaign could do more than Obama’s mere presence in the White House to defuse anti-American passion around the world, nor could any political experience surpass Obama’s life story in preparing a president to understand the American character. His candidacy offers Democrats the best hope of leading America into the future, and gives Californians the opportunity to cast their most exciting and consequential ballot in a generation.

Americans have an opportunity. With hard work and lots of optimism, we can try to undo the damage of the Bush administration. It won’t be easy. But I don’t see that we have many options here.

 

(Also a good diary, giving insight into the thoughts of some Obama supporters. – promoted by JulieWaters)

Let me make this clear right from the start: I am an Independent. A my-heart-and-head-are-predisposed-to-the-left- but-I-don’t-want-to-attach-myself-to-the-dogmatic- two-party-system-platform-structure-Independent. Thus, I vote for the individual, not the political party. But the last time I voted for a Republican was a Justice of the Peace choice at Town Meeting, a few years ago. That Republican was the dad of my daughter’s friend. Nice guy-until I discovered that he had opted out of performing marriage ceremonies (He’s uncomfortable with civil unions). So I’ve known for a while that my 2008 presidential ballot choice would be a Democrat. If the Dems gave Clinton the nod, I would be OK with that. Ditto Edwards. But make no mistake. I’m an Obama Girl.

I don’t want to get too mawkish, here. But, watching and listening to Barack Obama is the closest I-born the year JFK was assassinated-have ever gotten to having a Kennedy experience.  Obama has charisma. Presence. He oozes integrity. Earnestness. If Ronald Reagan was the Great Communicator, then Barack Obama is the Grand Communicator.  The man has hope; he encourages us to reclaim our hope. We Americans have become too comfortable with divisiveness.  Barack Obama promotes a culture of inclusiveness.  When critics say that he lacks adequate “experience” to become president, I just don’t buy it. A leader is only as good as his or her advisors.

Statistically, I’m told, I should be sweating with the Hillary fever. And I will admit that there’s much to admire about her.  Still, I can’t shake the feeling that-despite her commitment to health care, et al.-she represents more of the same; a continued sense of entitlement, elitism, and arrogance. If the U.S. President is our proxy throughout the world, then we have a personality disorder.

Barack Obama is therapy.