Language, even shocking language, requires a bit of commitment. There are all manner of approaches to language via linguistics. Linguistics is the study of tongues . . .not literal tongues; rather, the sounds made by tongue clacking slurping and clucking from the old pie hole. You know, speech . . .talk . . .stuff w
I have read and heard advertisements for such language approaches as Rosetta Stone, Pimsleur, and Esperanto Espresso, or Grunt. I remember taking speed-reading lessons in eighth grammar school based upon Gestalt peripheral reading exercises. We watched a TV show. In pre-PC times we would talk ethnic Jewish and Italian until 'Hey!it's became too cold talk!'
I learned Latin and English and used to have a pretty fair command of conversational Spanish. I can read French and some German thanks to English and Latin lessons. The language that has really influenced me in my three score years here is Shocking Language.
Shocking Language was learned de la famille, at school, the workplace and most especially the playground. Shocking language happens because shock is easily apprehended even by the tiniest of tots. A recent University of Maine study attests to the signal advantage shocking language affords lonely, hurt, vulnerable and frustrated children.
I am by nature and inclination a standing eight count. My earliest childhood memories are honeyed with uncles' knuckles to back of the noggin, sharp words and threats of violence only majesty Cinerama in Technicolor could capture the moment. Nothing like a whack with a 2X4 on the bridge of nose to one's attention - ' Did you HEAR me, Patrick?'
My name is shocking trochaic dimeter - stress/unstress: PAT rick/ HICKey. I hear one, or two feet of that and I cover up in the fetal position, awaiting almost certain to arrive buffets and bootings. No one ever good news'd me with PAT rick, let lone PAT rick/HICK,ey. Shocking.
We can say shocking things as children. Our infant musings are taken cum grano salis by most adults, except elected officials. " My Dad, says you got crabs, Mr. DiCola!!"
We were all at one time pygmy Joe Bidens.
My son Conor,at age three, followed a morbidly obese man around the Amtrak train platform in Niles Michigan explaining to all and sundry -"He likes Cake! That man likes his Cake! You like Cake Mister? That guy likes cake!" followed by a very maternal muzzling from his wide-eyed Mammy! I was of absolutely no help, whatsoever.
Scatologically graphic words, phrases and imagery can shock, as much as sexually graphic offenses verbal universal. However those are much too common, churlish and MTV for our tastes. Such language is only appropriate for persons behind the wheel of an automobile being challenged by Hipsters on bicycles.
Rather, let's consider the application of Shocking Language borne by iconoclastic view masters of the world's sense of propriety.
I was introduced to the parents of prospective students by our marginally educated principal as " Mr. Hickey, Our BeKnighted English Teacher!"
I assured the parents that their two boys would be instructed with more than a few moments of lucidity in my care and assured the shocked Mom and Dad that my grasp of vocabulary exceed the command of my superior Ms. Sheepshanks, a State certified job holder.
The parents were charmed and enrolled their children ASAP. The educator remains benighted. Shocking language helps, once apprehended as homophone failure sounding from a Peter Principled Principal..
My Old buddy DooDah Ma#$% of LaPorte County, Indiana was charged with assault following an imbroglio at the Prairie Tavern (PT) in Rolling Prairie. Doodah looked like Randall 'Tex' Cobb on a windy day and was a superior bartender and judge of human worth.
A serial lawsuit perpetrator had staked out PT as his latest victim and pretended to be hurt. Doodah ushered the man out with some brio and the man's false teeth fell to the floor. Doodah was asked by the judge about the events. Doodah explained, " Your Honor, the gentleman in question made a general threat to one and all upon entering. I detected . . . .smelled you Honor . . . the pungent aroma of marijuana upon his person and asked him to leave. He refused and gently escorted the man making this accusation to the door. At the door, this man returned my courtesies and patience with hocker spat in my direction which I dodged."
The robed County magistrate was spell bound, " What then Mr. Mag#$%?"
" I bitch-slapped him, " replied well-spoken tap-tun.
"Please, explain Mr. Mag#$%," encouraged the jurists." I whacked him in the chops with back of my hand Your Honor . . .you know . . .a bitch slap?"
"Continue, MR. Ma#$%, ordered the Hoosier Black Robe.
" I picked up the man's bridge work washed it off in the sink and returned the undamaged choppers to the larcenous dope smoker. . ." and with a majestic sweep of his arm announced, " in full view of twenty sober and industrious Christians, now Present, Your Honor!"
Shocking language? Shocking testimony and shockingly sound judgment.