Tyree's Tuppence
by Tyree Campbell
Never Send A Bland Out To Do An Epithet's Job
Our wonderful readers who have followed some of my recent outbursts here in the Tuppence and in the Ha'Pennies in Aoife's Kiss and Between Kisses and on the inside back page of Illumen surely have noted my unwavering and stolid support of Freedom of the Press. With that, you should be able to guess the general direction of this Tuppence--but read it anyway. I'd hate to think I was exercising all these syllables for nothing . . .
Granted, I'm biased in favor of the First Amendment. We publish stuff. Therefore, we have a vested interest in the continued freedom and ability to publish stuff. If you're reading this, you have a similar bias and vested interest, because you have the freedom to read this Tuppence, to digest it and analyze it, and to disagree with it--and you [presumably] want that freedom to continue. Also mayhap you like our publications. :-D
Well, now.
During the two weeks leading up to 24 February 2006, the Science Fiction Channel ran spot advertisements for the revived series Battlestar Galactica [the one in which Starbuck is now a woman][don't ask]. The show--which now resembles nothing so much as the illegitimate offspring of Gene Roddenberry and The Young And The Restless--pits humans against Cylons, who are virtually indistinguishable from humans in appearance and, unfortunately all too often, in behavior. The general storyline has been done a zillion times: Cylons want to take over the Universe; the humans won't let them. Film at 11.
The teaser previews of this particular episode showed a young woman in progressive stages of . . . well, an episode. A tantrum, if you will. She is thrashing about at her life. She is yelling and throwing things, including what looks like a raspberry torte. The [human] men she has loved and attacked, the [human] friends she has betrayed--and why?
And by this time she is fairly screaming. And she answers the question thusly: "Because I'm a frackin' Cylon!"
Goodness gracious me!
For those whose ears are yet virginal, I'll explain: the word "frack"--and its derivative forms "fracked" and "fracking"--is a dietary substitute for "fuck." It's used these days because mainstream television can get away with it. Virtually everyone who speaks English and has graduated from kindergarten knows which word is represented by "frack."
[One can almost imagine boys nudging one another in that smutty way peculiar to them, and saying, "Oooo, she said 'frack.'"]
I wonder whether "frack" is an etymological derivation of the slang word "frag," which achieved currency in the war to end all wars of my generation, the Vietnam War. "Frag" itself is short for "fragmentation grenade," the weapon of choice when one wanted "frag" someone, usually of rank. Essentially, it went like this: if you didn't like one of your leaders--commanding officer, platoon leader, squad leader, bunkmate--if he was abusive, incompetent, or ate chili with his fingers, you simply waited until the battle was joined, and chucked a grenade his way . . .
. . . but let's get back to frack.
Properly used, foul language can be an effective tool. It has impact. It gets right in your face and shakes you. To be most effective, it is used sparingly. One or two instances a story should do it.
For instance? In a story titled "Slots," originally published in 2002 in the Side Show anthology, edited by Cathy Buburuz, and later published in the December 2005 issue of Aoife's Kiss, there is one [1] instance of the word "fuck." It is, so far as is known, the only instance of that word being published in a story accepted by Buburuz . . . and it was accepted because "Don't fuck with the Dark Side" was exactly the right thing to say.
Let's compare:
1. Don't fuck with the Dark Side.
2. Don't frack with the Dark Side.
The choice is clear. But why?
Because "frack" has no meaning and no connotation and no point of reference. "Fuck" has several attributes. In the instance above, however, it has nothing to do with copulation, but with emphasis. It passes this emphasis on to the words "Dark Side," making the "Dark Side" something to fear greatly.
Now, the author of the story [which is to say, moi], had several options.
1. Don't mess with the Dark Side.
2. . . . hmm . . .
Okay, there was only one other option.
Let's return to Battlestar Galactica. [Full disclosure: I have not seen this full episode]. The Cylon woman in question is undergoing emotional trauma. She is conflicted. She hates and loathes herself and is sickened by her actions. She has lived among humans and has feelings for them, but her Cylon self has perverted those feelings. She is now being rewired as a Cylon. Undoubtedly she is tormented by other emotional conflicts not readily apparent in the teaser. Clearly she is under powerful duress. The use of the word "fuck" is completely warranted.
Except that you can't say it on television.
Well . . . darn!
Okay, so what do you do? How do you circumvent the prohibition to salvage the raw emotional power of the moment?
In movies that are "mainstreamized" for television [ABC, NBC, CBS, Fox], they dub a voice-over, so that what you see in the lips is, "I'm a fucking Cylon!" but what you hear is, "I'm a gosh-darn Cylon!" or possibly, "I'm a [beep] Cylon."
Let's examine the impact of each option:
1. "I'm a fucking Cylon." Oh, yeah! Exactly! Wham!
2. "I'm a gosh-darn Cylon." Weaker, but if you can read lips, you can still receive the emotional impact. And ditto with
3. "I'm a [beep] Cylon." Let's face it, we're all adults here. We know when a word or phrase has been beeped, and we know what belongs under the beep.
But to insert the word "frackin'" eviscerates the entire sentence of emotional impact, and invests it with the stench of farce. At the climactic moment of this scene, when the woman is about to sum up the reason for her self-loathing, when in fact she ought to be screaming, "I'm a fucking Cylon!" she is given a pathetic substitute. Not option 2 or 3 above, which might have salvaged something of the moment. But "I'm a frackin' Cylon!" which destroys the emotional impact and invites instead laughter.
As an actor, the woman deserved better than that.
In an earlier episode of Battlestar Galactica, another woman addresses an adversary with a, "Frack you."
Riiiight . . .
It's going to be a few years, I'm guessing, before the FCC will allow any of George Carlin's seven words to be uttered on mainstream television. I understand that. I think reasonable writers understand that. But that's no reason to reduce an emotional moment to a sham. Use a gosh-darn dub, if you must, and beep when you have to.
But never send a bland word out to do an epithet's job.
Past Tuppence:
December 2005
September 2005
June 2005
March 2005
December 2004
September 2004
June 2004
March 2004
December 2003
September 2003
June 2003
March 2003
December 2002
October 2002
August 2002
June 2002
April 2002
February 2002
December 2001
October 2001
August 2001
Read more from Tyree Campbell in any of the following:
Wondrous Web Worlds Vol. 5
Wondrous Web Worlds Vol. 4
Wondrous Web Worlds Vol. 3
Sex and the Single Alien
An anthology
Nyx
A novel by Tyree Campbell
Wondrous Web Worlds Vol. 2