The F Word

Why does the word “fuck” make us feel a certain way? I think back to a line in Saba’s “Prom / King”: “Sometimes I fuckin’ hate Chicago cuz I hate this feelin’.” In his delivery, Saba places heavy emphasis on “fuckin’,” and every time I hear it the word stands out. If the line had been, “Sometimes I hate Chicago cuz I hate this feelin’” (not taking into account the syllables to stay on beat), the line would not have had the same magnitude. We have societally assigned meaning to the word, allowed it to create emphasis. My parents always tell me I curse too much. I probably do. But one time when I said the “F word” and received the inevitable, instinctive response from my mother, “did you really have to say ‘fuck’?”, I retorted. “Yes, Mom, I did, because it added to my point.” A short conversation among my two siblings reached the consensus that we actually really like the F word. It’s a great word. Now, I know that the F word is not a classy term, and it does not lend to an intelligent way of communicating. But in the right context, in the right setting, it can serve a real purpose. Words only mean what we have collectively decided they will mean, and whether you like it or not, sometimes you can say a lot with a simple “fuck.”