Dear Netflix,
When the f-word is, by
percentage, the most oft repeated word in a sentence, then the sentence has no
actual meaning.
This is my working theory. To
test the theory, I suggest replacing the F-word with a replacement F-word and
testing the hypotenuse of the angle for pointless fiddle twaddle.
So, the F-word becomes FORK in my
experiment.
Fork you, you mother forking
fork fest of forking forkery.
Nonsense.
Attention Netflix! Dialogue that relies on the use of the ever-popular F-word to the exclusion of actual . . .
er . . . um . . . DIALOGUE is boring,
pointless, meaningless, and who the fork cares.
I know that the use of the
forking F-word is supposed to indicate a character’s bad ass-ery, but honestly
wouldn’t clear and concise writing do that with more effect and less tedium.
Think beats of actual action and blocks of actual dialogue.
Answer: Fork yes.
The argument is that “real”
people speak this way. Perhaps. But their conversations are as boring,
pointless, and meaningless as a Netflix original content movie written by
twelve-year-olds—with potty mouths.
Now, I’m no prude, and I think
a well-placed, well timed expletive can add great comedic effect or dramatic
tension, but an endless stream of a single word, any word, in various grammatical
forms . . .
Fork. Forking. Forked. Fork.
Fork. Fork. Have forked. Getting forked. Mother Forking, fork face.
Ugh.
Essentially, it’s the same
reason I don’t “shoot birds.” 1) I am a Southern lady and do not care to invite
the attentions of someone who might mistake the gesture for an invitation. 2)
My middle finger is rather knobby and does NOT look attractive stabbing
skyward. And 3) It’s been done. Overdone. And has lost all real punch or
veracity.
And so, I ask with all sincerity,
that we retire the ubiquitous use of the F-word. In college, I was required to
read a book titled, Savages. Its entire first chapter consisted of two
words. “Fuck you”. Chapter One:
Two words. I was unimpressed. Now if the author had written, You fuck . . . You
know, mixed it up a bit. But no.
NOTE and FYI: I paid one thousand, six hundred dollars for
the class.
And so, we grow ever more
desiccated in the great verbal desert of modern American word smithing.
Fork that.
Linda (Mumbles) Zern
