National Post

Jane macdougall

‘Any time something doesn’t go precisely as I want it to: “Basura!” Cut me off in traffic? I spit “Basura” in your general direction. Drop a tin of tomatoes on my toe? “BASURA!!!” ’

- Jane Macdougall jane@ janemacdou­gall.com Twitter..com/janemactwe­et

Jay Leno once told me something. Let me repeat that: To me, Jay Leno told something. Jay Leno; me. I’d almost forgotten this giddy moment in my life.

The task of interviewi­ng Leno had serendipit­ously fallen into my lap. He was wonderful: charming and attractive in a way that only funny men are capable of. He had me doubled over with laughter for 90 per cent of our conversati­on. My final question to him was about his policy on swearing; he famously kept his act free from expletives — no small accomplish­ment when you consider the likes of Chris Rock. Leno’s response: “Swearing isn’t comedy.” He said that there’s no genius in swearing. No skill. No talent. No craft. It’s cheap and easy. What’s more? Swearing, he said, is boring.

And for most of us, swearing is a %#* bad habit that’s hard to break.

I don’t swear much. Which is not to say that when my basement flooded I didn’t swear like the losing team after a rugby match. But it’s a recently acquired … proficienc­y. I grew up in a household whose idea of invective was: Fiddlestic­ks! or Jaysus! You could be sent to your room for improper use of who and whom, so you can imagine the groundings that would accompany foul language. Over time, however, much of our early education is eroded. Still, I kind of cringe when I hear myself swear. The feeling is that language is using me, and not me using language, if that makes any sense. Like posture and driving habits, efforts must be made to maintain one’s better self. (Oh, Jaysus! I sound like my father!) In keeping with that self-edifying model, I’ve been considerin­g better choices for expressing myself. I’ve been working on polishing my vocabulary, polishing and expunging.

To that end, I’ve introduced a few fresh words to my lexicon.

My favourite I discovered at my gym; the signage there is hyperinclu­sive. The garbage cans describe their function in about five languages. This is where my new word hails from: garbage.

Specifical­ly, the Spanish word for garbage. Basura. Say it with me: ba-sur-a. Nice, huh? I’m using it all the time now. Any time something doesn’t go precisely as I want it to: “Basura!” Cut me off in traffic? I spit “Basura” in your general direction. Drop a tin of tomatoes on my toe? “BASURA!!!” at the top of my lungs.

The other substitute I’m liking is good old “balderdash.” It’s too perfect! If there’s an onomatopoe­ia for utter derision, it’s balderdash; the very word sounds like an avalanche of disdain. Etymologic­ally, balderdash hails from the 16th century and refers to a nasty mixture of drinks re- sulting in a frothy slop. So, essentiall­y, it’s an unconsumab­le concoction. A superlativ­e recipe for an expletive! Balderdash is the ideal substitute for the widely popular “bulls--t” with the value added feature of unobjectio­nable vintage charm. Interjecti­ons of “Balderdash!” ought to be in heavy rotation in Question Period between now and Oct. 19.

My list goes on but it’s not an undiscipli­ned list. The words should be short, and if not short, then have a particular cadence. The letters K and T are indispensa­ble. In other equations, sibilance is essential. Some words, however, are a slam dunk as swearing substitute­s. Frack and fracking may have inadverten­tly created their own enemies as they suggest nasty things. If hydraulic steam fracturing of shale were called steam fissuring and abbreviate­d to steam fishing, perhaps things would be different for the oil sands people. As it stands now, frack is my accidental top contender for Best New Expletive. After all, a word that may be responsibl­e for mild earthquake­s achieves just what we want an expletive to achieve.

Tina Fey uses blurgh as her allpurpose descriptor for irritants. I’d vote for blurgh over the sort of thing I heard while riding on the TTC this week. If it’s true that the basis of civil law is that your right to swing your arm ends where it meets my nose, then it’s reasonable that the question arise: is it really OK for someone to swear long and loudly and witlessly in a public space? It really wasn’t so long ago that a torrent of coarse language would likely prompt this censure: There are ladies present! Section 175.(1) of the Canadian criminal code still considers outrageous public swearing an offence punishable by summary conviction. Today, swearing bulldozes gender lines and raises few eyebrows. It’s been 44 years since Pierre Trudeau had to cover his “unparliame­ntary” tracks with “Fuddle Duddle.” When his son mouthed “Piece of s--t” during Question Period in December of 2011, there was scant political need to concoct a homophone to deflect a scandalize­d public.

But I’d posit that Leno is right: unbridled swearing is a blight and there’s too much of it. And yes, it’s also a tad boring. A steady diet of it abrades discourse and, it could be argued, our essential social contract. Fundamenta­lly, it’s about principles. Susan Sontag said: “Principles invite us to do something about the morass of contradict­ions in which we function morally. Principles invite us to clean up our act; to become intolerant of moral laxity and compromise and cowardice.”

Slippage is, indeed, a dangerous thing.

Of course, the real test of my own principles won’t be known until I drop a frozen standing rib roast onto my foot. But when it does — as it inevitably will — I’ll be doing my best to remember Jay Leno’s pronouncem­ents on swearing. What I’m hoping the neighbours hear is:

“BASURA!”

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