F is For Four Letter Words

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