Columnist Susan Snyder: We swear to use less profanity

Tuesday, March 9, 2004 | 9:02 a.m.

We are increasingly a nation of potty mouths.

Clear Channel has dumped Howard Stern. Congress has conducted hearings about profanity on the airwaves. Federal Communications Commission officials seem ready to fine broadcasters for profane language.

A recent survey published by American Demographics shows that 72 percent of men and 55 percent of women admit to swearing in public. Younger adults were said to be more likely to swear than older adults, and swearing was increasing among schoolchildren.

A less official survey (mine) of the Las Vegas Sun archives showed "hell" appeared 195 times since March 4, 2003 (make that 196). Many times it appeared as part of a direct quote or in the title of a group, record album or other composition. (I win for using it seven times in "Valley Views." Please tell my mommy that four of those times it appeared in quotes.)

But this increase in profanity is not so much a lack of civility. It likely is more a lack of imagination.

We should realize that swear words, like street signs, lose their impact and message when we encounter them too often. And when compared to other words and phrases in the English language, they really don't say all that much.

For example, "dip----" is a vague word.

But that "greasy-palmed, monkey-eared buffoon in a blue necktie" is far more descriptive, infinitely more fun to say and gives a distinct image.

Next time you're trying to exit U.S. 95 and merge onto Interstate 15 and some hulking Hummer hammerhead won't let you change lanes, don't slide your tongue around the usual seven-letter word meaning a human orifice where the sun rarely shines.

What you really mean is, "You greedy, mucous-brained lane pig!"

When the dingbat in the minivan drifts across the line 6 inches from your bumper because she's yapping on a cell phone and can barely see over the dashboard, you don't truly want to malign the character of a perfectly innocent female dog.

You really want to call her a "Witless, prattling lump of yak feces!"

OK, so whacking one's little toe on the coffee table because the cat decides he needs to go outside at 3:15 a.m. is enough to elicit the most primitive of expletives from the nicest possible people.

"Fiddlesticks" and "piffle" lack the robust flavor and depth of emotion warranted by such a situation.

But with a little practice -- and a hero's measure of restraint -- you can train yourself to utter, "Son-of-a-sea-cook!" Or, "Great Mother Smuckers' pantywaist!"

Swearing is, however, highly difficult from which to wean oneself.

Children help. I recall an evening in a New Orleans French restaurant during which my then-infant nephew uttered a four-letter word beginning with"s" to the horror of his grandmother and the inappropriate mirth of his aunt.

And a friend in Oldsmar, Fla., had to stop swearing at the Atlanta Braves on television because her African gray parrot had an uncanny knack for expanding its vocabulary.

I have found it easier to simply avoid driving through the Spaghetti Bowl than to avoid stringing together expletives like a foundry worker. If we could just get the cat to sleep through the night, I'd be in the clear.