Hamish Champ: Cursing in the name of (a good cause)*
Anyone who knows me knows I swear like a trooper. I always have done.
I must stress I don't swear at people, at least not in a serious way. But I do regularly pepper my conversation with words that would prompt my dear old Mum to chasten me severely. Such utterances, she would have said, were neither big nor clever, merely a weakness in one's vocabulary.
I raise the subject because last week I agreed to a swearbox - or rather a swear 'tally' - being established on the newsdesk of The Publican. While aimed directly at me it's all in a good cause, namely to lend financial weight to Publican news editor Matt Eley's London marathon-running fund-raising effort in aid of the NSPCC. Matt's NSPCC donation link
Minor curses, including 'bugger', 'bum' and 'balls', cost me 5p (the latter only when used out of context. Obviously if I was discussing tennis or cricket I'd have carte blanche, etc).
The use of 'bloody' and the vernacular word for 'solid human waste' cost me 10p; the 'F' word is 20p, and the 'unspeakable' word, the one which divides opinion more than any other, a whopping 50p.
Since I am a habitual swearer my Publican colleagues assumed I'd be on a hiding to nothing. But a funny thing has happened. Partly as a reverse joke, partly because the Scot in me objects to unnecessary spending, I have cut down on my 'habit'.
When I swear it is only with what I deem to be good cause. No run of the mill cursing. It has to be specific. And do you know what? I feel 'cleaner' as a result. I really do. It's the oddest thing.
OK, sometimes I go for it and rack up a couple of quid in one sentence, just so's my work chums don't think I'm losing my edge.
But generally I'm cutting down on my swearing, and as trends go I'm rather liking it.
What's really weird is that I absolutely hate hearing other people swearing in public. The odd cuss overheard in a boozer is bearable, but when every third word by someone in the saloon bar is either a 20p one or worse, a 50p one, well then it's time to ask the speaker to moderate their language or to move to another pub.
Me, Mr Potty Mouth. The hypocrisy is breathtaking. 20p-ing breathtaking, in fact.
The thing is, contrary to my Mum's take on the subject I reckon used sparingly swearing can prove a useful weapon in one's lexicon. That when enunciated well it can add an extra dimension to an argument.
It can also be an obvious form of release. I recall doing a parachute jump many years ago and on exiting the aircraft instead of doing all the safety checking things as I plummeted earthwards all I could manage was a very elongated version of the '20p' word until my 'chute opened.
Obviously not everyone agrees that swearing is OK. And my new regime, albeit somewhat enforced, has highlighted that one doesn't have to swear all the time. I am thinking about my language more, and not using supposedly 'bad' words quite so often.
Still, I'm mindful this is all in aid of a good cause, so I have a certain amount of responsibility. I mean to say, I haven't turned into an acolyte of Mary Whitehouse or anything.
And my tally so far? Just shy of seven quid. '20p' me, there's a long way to go 'til the London Marathon…
(*with apologies to Rage Against The Machine)
