a dying breed; a dying necessity

Last night, I went to sleep a little earlier than usual so I could start the new day early.  As I began to drift into another story, I heard a voice from outside.  Many times I can hear rowdy drunks talking loud late at night outside, shouting in an unintelligible manner.  This time it was a bit different.  Instead of many people, there was just one guy talking on the phone.  Intelligence level:  equatable to the drunks.

Apparently, this guy was ripped off by another man, and was going to get his friends to get back at him if he received more betrayal.  I think that’s what was happening.  In all honesty, I only heard three words constantly.  “Nigger,” “shit,” and “fuck.”

I remember someone once telling me that saying vulgar words makes you less intelligible.  When I first hear this, I found it ridiculous.  Of course it isn’t about intelligence.  When one is angry or frustrated, ideas are not constructed in a strong fashion.  Many times, it just takes a simple shout to understnad where one is coming from.  However, what this friend of mine meant regarding intelligence goes beyond the personal status of the speaker.  It affects the culture as well.

Fall semester of freshman year, our Introduction to Listening class was required to read three books on art:  Walking on Water by Madeline L’Engle, Letter’s to a Young Poet by Rainer Maria Rilke, and My Name is Asher Lev by Chaim Potok.  I used to laugh, saying how I read more books in a music class than any other class that semester, but I am definitely glad I read each of them.  The one that spoke out the most was L’Engle’s book on art.
In the second chapter, “Icons of the True,” L’Engle discusses many things, including langauge.  L’Engle emphasizes the importance of words, not just on a caste level, but on a personal level. 

“Because I am a storyteller, I live by words… and that involves language, for me the English language, that wonderfully rich, complex, and ofttimes confusing tongue.  When language is limited, I am thereby dimished, too.”

Vocabulary and language help us think.  They give us names for both concrete and tangible items.  Without names, all we would have is descriptions of items.  A very Nietzschen approach, but a very slow and sometimes confusing approach. 
L’Engle continues by saying it is in times of war when language is stiffled.  The despotisms seem to attack the writers during times of martial law.  And in the end, it is the writers that liberate a country.  While an outright extremist, Thomas Paine’s “Common Sense” brought social awareness to the atrocities at hand.  Harriet Beecher Stow’s Uncle Tom’s Cabin brought awareness to slavery.  Through language, we are aware.  We are liberated. 

“When our vocabulary becomes exhausted, our freedom dwindles—we cannot think; we do not recognize danger; injustice strikes us no more than ‘the way things are.’”

“Where language is weak, theology is weakened.”

She goes on to elaborate on her idea, but I think enough is conveyed on this blog.  Language is important.  Language gives meaning to actions, ideas, and objects around us.

However, language is fading.  It is diminshing in all aspects.  L’Engle says she lived in a century of war, and this is the product of the past events.  Here, we live in a generation where vulgar words are synonymous for just about anything.  Where if you add “fucking” to any verb, it can mean a positive or negative action, depending on the context.  I don’t get it.  One word bringing forth polar meanings. 
Vulgar words are considered taboo, yet… they aren’t.  They’re used in everyday language.  Angst is one thing, but for it to be added alongside everyday language is depressing.  Boondock Saints.  Haha.  I don’t remember seeing a movie where the f word was used so often.  It was comical.  I think that was its intent.  But, it is a clean portrayal of how people act.
Pop feeds it.  Pop culture feeds off this death of vocabulary.  Chris Crocker.  Ozzy Osbourne.  In turn, we feed off it.  If simplicity is what we want, then simple minds is what we will get.

Who are we at war with?  Is this a mere product of the past, or is war still raging in our blood?

I am not asking for us to pick up our dictionaries and learn new words everyday.  I’m not asking to speak with a thesauraus, changing every common word that comes out of our mouth with a more intellectual one.  I merely ask to look before we leap.  I wrote a blog about this two years ago.  Words are powerful.  Words can hurt or heal.  I remember last January when I used one wrong word in a letter to a dear friend where our friendship hit a blip.  One word.  I meant one thing and it was expressed a completely different way.
The more knowledge we retain regarding the words we use, the less conflicts we have to encounter.  Less misunderstandings.

If language is equated with culture, I see no reason to let it go for the sake of simplicity.