Editor’s Note: The following piece contains explicit language and content. The view expressed here do not necessarily represent the views of theDIHEDRAL.
I remember having dinner with my grandparents at a local café when I was in college, and some guy walked into the diner with a shirt that read “Fuck your Morals”. As a philosophy student, this thought was appealing to me. As a grandson out to eat with my devoutly religious grandma, I was a little uncomfortable.
Language and etiquette come up regularly in most shared spaces, and of course climbing is no different.
Climbing gyms and crags often come with try-hards who can’t help but drop a series of f-bombs when they can’t make it through the crux. It can be so frustrating to work so hard at something and then fail. In this situation colorful language seems both acceptable and appropriate. On the flip side of that, there are frequently, young children, and religious grandmothers (like mine) around as well, and in those situations releasing a verbal onslaught of expletives makes things a little uncomfortable.
You run into similar issues with route names, such as Anal Tongue Dart, Pumped Full of Semen, and Daily Dick Dose. I don’t personally find anything “wrong” with these names, but if I imagine a father telling his young climbing children to find a few good routes in the Hueco Tanks Guidebook, and they come back and say “papa, Daily Dick Dose seems like a fun route to work this afternoon” I feel a little awkward. It could get worse at show-and-tell when the teacher asks if anyone had a fun experience to report, and little Norbert comes back with “I went climbing and got Pumped Full of Semen on my third try”. Not good!
When I was younger, my sister was a big fan of Eazy-E and 2 Live Crew, we would roll up to school with some classics like She Swallowed it, Me So Horny, and Face Down Ass Up. I remember clear as day, when she left an Eazy-E tape in our dad’s car, and he found it. I thought that might be the end of my sister. But she was savvy and turned what could have been an execution into a conversation.
She brought up a little song called Louie Louie by the Kingsmen. An innocent enough song with very poor recording quality that led many teenagers of the 1960’s to sing some questionable lyrics over the original track.
Check out these lyrics at the 1-minute mark of this video.
“At night at ten, I lay her again. Fuck you girl, oh, all the way.”
Vs. the actual lyrics…
“Three nights and days I sailed the sea. Me think of girl (oh) constantly.”
Based on the conversation between my sister and dad, it would seem like my dad was not aware of the actual lyrics to Louie Louie and thus recognized that words in music can be just that, words in music. Stay of execution granted, sentence commuted!
I tend to think of colorful language in climbing the same way; words can be just that, words. However, I also think intent and context matters. No one gets offended with words like “bitch” or “ass” when used in certain contexts, but put those words together, and it’s a very different story.
Ultimately, I recommend using any words you feel comfortable using while in shared spaces. Provided those words aren’t generally hurtful, derogatory, or bigoted. I tend to avoid language that would make my grandma blush, but every-once-in-a-while you just have to say _______ it, climb-on!
thedihedral.com 
Oh, Carrot. I guess I’m in your dad’s generation as I remember “Louie, Louie” being a subject of angry discourse and censorship, but no one knew what it said, I mean none of us knew. Personally I think bad words are things like, “You’re stupid.” “I want to kill you.” “I wish you were dead.” “People in this country are evil.” The naming of climbing routes? Well, you have to call them something. All these names seem funny to me.
Anyway, here’s an old song. You might have to look up the lyrics because I’m sure it’s been censored for Youtube. Sigh. We’re still fucked up about stuff like this which has never made sense to me and never will. Of course, I was raised by a man who was a very creative curser, “You’re the bastard son of a syphilitic camel!” He was good. Fucking good.
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P.S. I wanted a job waving a brush over dusty pot shards or something on an archeological dig in Jordan long, long ago. One of the requirements? Here’s a euphemism for you. “Participants will not use Anglo/Saxon words.”
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HAHA, that is brilliant!
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😜 cracked me up
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I had a teacher in 6th grade (I went to a Catholic School) she said the only bad words were words that can’t clearly convey one’s point. She went on to say the curse were only bad when they were lazy placeholders for what we really meant. She also said “Ain’t” is a bad word. I press sure she would have approved of your dad’s creative curses!
I’m excited to check out the link, thank you!
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You’re welcome. I was happy to see your post and I enjoyed it very much. Fuck yeah!
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I remember listening to “Louie, Louie” over and over again and never being able to find the “dirty” lyrics. The actual lyrics weren’t that hard to understand. As for parents, my English teacher played us the soundtrack from “Jesus Christ Superstar” after she’d seen the show in Chicago. I asked for (and received – from my parents) the album for Christmas. My father came home from work one afternoon just as “Herod’s Song” came on. He berated me for listening to this evil, blasphemous music and asked where I got it. I said, “You and mom gave it to me for Christmas”. Since children were to be neither seen nor heard, he did not want to hear my explanation of the context of the song.
As for when certain words are appropriate, I remember a series of three bumperstickers:
1) “America: Love it or Leave it.”
2) “America: Love is not Enough.”
3) “America: Fix it of Fuck it.”
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That had to be the ultimate shutdown response to your dad, I would have felt so great to have been able to offer a response like that!
These bumperstickers remind me of understanding the importance of good and bad punctuation from the example: “let’s eat grandpa” and “let’s eat, grandpa.”
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oops. that was “or” fuck it.
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That is why I have worked as assiduously as I have to curb my railroad-honed Tourette’s lexicon.
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I vote to dial it up simply for the entertainment value of those who are watching from below!
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