The Origin of Curse Words - Stephen Kramer Avitabile
It used to be a peaceful land all around the Smiths, serenity stretching to every swath, every valley, every mountain. But then Word was fired from his job. And it all went to, well, it’ll be clear where it all went in a moment.
Words needed to be created so conversations could be had, so sentiments could be expressed, so instructions could be given. A small group got together and tasked themselves with the creation of words. The best on the team… was Word. He created the word “word” for Word’s sake!
He had an unmatched skill. He gave the land the likes of “onomatopoeia” and “smooth” and “gorgeous” among countless others. Oh yeah, he gave the land “countless” too. For the weary counter tired of counting.
But the group grew wary of Word’s determination, his motivation, his relentless pursuit of creating more words. Those were all words created by Word by the way, with the exception of “relentless” which was coined by Josiah. But Josiah also created “moist” and “nonchalant”, so his track record isn’t fantastic. If there’s nonchalant then what’s chalant, Josiah?
The group didn’t think new words were necessary. Word disagreed. Words were exchanged. Word was incensed. Words grew loud. Word grew loud. Word was fired.
Word returned home to his wife, Lola, and his six-year-old son, Philip. His wife was understanding and tried to calm Word, but she wasn’t very successful. Philip wasn’t sure why his dad was fired; he knew his dad was the best at creating words in all the land. But he didn’t ask questions.
Word spent much of his time in his workshop, working tirelessly at creations. Philip would hide behind the door and watch his dad, peeking in, listening, remaining undetected. His dad had been creating so many new words, muttering to himself all the while that these powerful words would impact the land forever.
Philip heard them all. He absorbed them all. He didn’t know the meaning, but he could feel the power in them. The ring they left in his ears was raw. The song they sang… forceful.
One afternoon, Philip was watching his dad work, but his dad had fallen asleep at his work bench. Philip left to go play in the yard. He wandered towards the mushroom patch that he frequented, such a bevy of mushroom types. Philip was a mushroom fiend that sampled in ample proportions. And this very day, he found a new one he had never seen. He plucked the crimson beauty from the soil and bit into it. Bitter, yet sweet on the finish. Maybe there should be a word for this.
He took another bite as he strolled back inside. And another. He wandered into the kitchen and came across his mom. She took one look at him, and her mouth opened in horror. Her eyes widened with terror. Her voice was stained by horror-terror.
“Philip! Don’t eat that! That one’s poisonous!”
Philip panicked. He told his mom he already had several bittersweet bites! She smiled for a moment at the excellent new word and then returned to worry. She told him he needed to remove all of the mushroom from his mouth and clean his mouth out with soap in order to kill the poison from the mushroom.
Philip was woozy but did exactly what she said. He inserted soap into his mouth and scrubbed like his tongue had just vacationed in the dirt for a week. He scrubbed his gums and his teeth, and the soapy taste infiltrated his entire being.
It was disgusting!
Philip began to release every new word that his dad just created in the workshop… purely instinct. They just felt right in the moment. Their power mirrored how he was feeling.
With each word he uttered, they’d pop out of his mouth in a soap bubble. Lola witnessed the entire spectacle. Bubbles floating about with these powerful words! Like little round ghosts!
“Cursed!” She thought they must be.
She quickly opened all the windows and the doors, and the bubbles floated out of the house as Philip continued to unleash curse after curse from his little, tiny, soapy mouth.
Bubbles filled with curse words floated all across the land. Droves of them floating through the air and then touching down and popping around unsuspecting victims. The soap popped into their eyes and left horrible stinging sensations. The victims screamed in pain and yelled out words they only just heard a fraction of a second before.
“Shit!”
“Goddamn!”
“Dickhole!”
“Asshole!”
“Fuck!” (And several other variations including those using Lola’s relation to Philip)
The curse words stayed in the land. People used them to express anger and sadness and grief and many of the negative emotions. The land stopped being so peaceful.
Peace still existed. As did serenity. They just now competed with rage and depression.
The curse words never left. They became more and more prominent. Word got his wish. He got his work out there. And he was right. The land did need more words. For everything cannot always be peaceful and happy, for it would then lose its meaning. Pain is needed so pleasure can feel it’s most pleasing. Sadness is needed so joy can be truly happy. The curse words accompanied anger; they accompanied happiness. They seasoned a bland land with spice. The curse words morphed into something no one could ever pin down. They weren’t bad or good or any one specific thing. They just were.
The tales circled around the origin of curse words. Legends accompanied them. Stories changed. Rumors circulated. Lies were told that when you cursed you had to wash your mouth out with soap. Of course, that isn’t true. And of course, you can tell where that came from.
And that one, to Philip, well, that was the funniest fucker of them all.
Stephen Kramer Avitabile is a New-England-born, Los-Angeles-based writer. In addition to writing short stories and novels, he has also written screenplays and his own sets for stand-up comedy. He has had his work appear, or is upcoming, in publications such as Sci-Fi Shorts and Clever Fox Literary Magazine. When he’s not writing, he spends much of his time watching TV, movies, and sports with his partner Evelyn, guinea pig Peggy, and tortoise Joey… and also feeding any animals outside his apartment. You can follow him on Instagram @stephenavitabilewriting and find more of his writing at stephenavitabilewriting.com.
