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Cursed Words
The FCC just made cussing less costly -- did it fuck up? old DJ joke: "Fuck! I just said shit! Shit! I just said fuck!" Telling that joke on the air just got a lot cheaper. The Federal Communications Commission is having a sale, slashing prices on "fuck" and "shit," as well as "cocksucker," "motherfucker," "tits," "cunt" and "piss." Last week, the independent government agency announced that radio and television stations that violate its ban on indecent and obscene broadcasts will be paying less for each offense. According to Reuters, the new guidelines charge approximately $7,000 to violators -- a substantial reduction from the previous $12,500 fine. What is the FCC telling us? I wanted to ask the agency myself, so I called. And called. And called and called. I was passed off and ignored and promised faxes so many times that I have come to believe that the "Communications" in Federal Communications Commission is meant only ironically. Finally, and I don't know if it was the irritable tone in my voice or what, I was transferred to Norman, in the Complaints Department. When I asked him what this ruling means, or if the FCC is making a statement that indecency is less offensive now, or even what the ruling is based on, he deadpanned, "It's based on the committee's thinking process." It's safe to say that money still means something in America. So even if this ruling is arbitrary or based on some other unknown criteria of "the committee's thinking process," I'm going out on a limb and inferring that cussing on the radio is now about $5,500 less bothersome to our moral watchdogs than it was last month. Conversely, let's also assume that it is about $5,500 more attractive for some smart-alecky radio DJ to either swear on air or, better yet, play a curse-ridden song. Taking requests, DJs? I'll admit that my taste in swear words is as narrow as my taste in music, which is why to my ears punk rock and the F-word make such a cute couple. So, if you're keeping your playlist current, why not spin Atari Teenage Riot's hilarious "Fuck All!" It's everything the Parent's Music Resource Center warns against: an anti-melody, anti-everything screamfest featuring gratuitous swearing and calls to arms. Its enticingly literary chorus goes: "Fuck all! Fuck all! Fuck all! Fuck all! Fuck all! Fuck all! Fuck all! Cut all policemen to pieces!" Or if you prefer golden oldies from as far back as '94, how about Hole's "Rock Star," a gloriously pathetic and catty attack on the riot grrrl movement. Just like no one -- not even Elvis -- can match the perfection of Jonathan Richman executing a finely wrought "well," no one has a way with "Fuck you!" like Courtney Love. Not that DJs at stations with the cash to back a four-letter spending spree could bring themselves to do so -- you can't teach old ears new tricks. During my stint as a college radio DJ, I was trying so hard to keep the linguistic shit from hitting the fans that my nerves couldn't even handle putting on a Parliament song; the band was always talking about how you should "give up the funk" or how "P-Funk wants to get funked up." Every time they used a noun or verb, I cringed. Living in fear of fucking up, I never got the funk. And not because I'm above cursing, or support censorship, or always do as I'm told: Fuck that shit! I just didn't want my little shoestring station to have to shell out thousands of dollars just because I was too lazy to listen all the way through the new one from Tree People. I asked Jim DeRogatis, host of the music talk show "Sound Opinions" on KSTP (1500 AM) in Minneapolis what indecent song he would play if he had $7,000 to splurge. "It seems to me that the only thing that would be worth that kind of money would be something like those recently unearthed tapes of Lyndon Johnson discussing the Vietnam conflict in his usual colorful manner," he said. "Or parts of the famous Nixon tapes. Or maybe the tapes that will no doubt one day surface of Reagan plotting and scheming about the 'bleep-this' and 'bleep-that' contras or Iranians. Heck, airing that sort of thing beats the hell out of playing 'Louie Louie' any day." He's right: In rock 'n' roll, the lewdness of the sound and the performers' steamy visuals have always overshadowed the paltriness of lyrics. Which is why the powers-that-be should ban things like Polly Jean Harvey's voice, or Syd Straw's stare, instead of the status quo boredom of potty-mouth Liz Phair, who makes "fuck" sound about as subversive as organizing her sock drawer. "I'd pay $7,000 to hear the Dead Kennedys' 'Too Drunk to Fuck' on the radio in a second." So says Jesse Sheidlower, author of "The F Word," a wry lexicography of all things fucked. He's well aware of the arbitrariness with which curse words are designated. He says, "It's worth pointing out that of the seven dirty words, one appears in the Bible. So according to the FCC, you couldn't read the Bible cover to cover on the air." Which word? "Piss," in 2 Kings 18:27: " But Rab-shakeh said unto them, Hath my master sent me to thy master, and to thee, to speak these words? hath he not sent me to the men which sit on the wall, that they may eat their own dung, and drink their own piss with you." Sure, it's weird -- but not exactly X-rated. Sheidlower jokes, "I would like someone to read it and have the FCC crack down." That holy passage only underlines how coincidental "bad" words are. There's something so reassuring about the FCC putting price tags on them -- as if they're dressing up certain expressions in little black hats, so we can identity them as villains. You can't say "tits" on the radio, but you can say "Pamela Anderson Lee," and what's the difference? A film commentator can't say "shit," so she'll replace it with "Air Force One" instead. Rush Limbaugh can't say "cunt," so he uses "Hillary Rodham Clinton" as a substitute. Who's to blame for making us broadcast in code? The same guy who's
responsible for the biblical piss passage; the same sick joker who gave us a
bunch of fun swear words and then -- Christ! -- told us not to take His name in
vain; the same guy who's always to blame for every last tragedy and quagmire:
God, that's who. He's been fucking us over wordwise since way back in
Genesis, when he had us build the first radio transmitter, the tower of Babel.
Here's proof, in a Babel bible passage you can read on the air:
"because the Lord did there confound the language of all the earth." At
least the motherfucker admits it.
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