Cunt. There, I said it. I had to, because it seems everyone is saying it nowadays.
It’s not big, clever, or something I’m particularly proud of, but I swear…a lot. I swear when I’m happy, and when I’m sad, to add emphasis to a joke, and to convey my anger.
I have my limits though, and until recently I thought we all agreed that cunt was a swear too far. It is in fact the rudest word in the English language. It’s true; I just googled it and Wikipedia told me so *journo trick*.
It’s the final sweary frontier, the last verbal taboo. I can’t think of another word with the power to shock and silence, a word that would be more unwelcome in polite company.
I clearly remember the first time I was ever called a cunt. It was by a horrible, mean, angry man on a scooter in Tufnell Park, and it scared the living daylights out of me.
As a driver in London I’m used to aggression on the roads, and have handed out my far share of middle fingers, but cunt, really?
To me the fact he was willing to shout that at a total stranger meant all bets were off, and that I was obviously dealing with a lunatic.
I was literally rendered speechless, which literally hardly ever literally happens. Literally.
Since that first shocking day, I’ve barely been able to move for cunts. From friends calling things ‘cunty’ on facebook, to a crazed woman (yes, another driver) yelling it at me on the high road (again, WAS NOT MY FAULT), it seems that the 'c' word, is the only word to be seen with.
So, my question is this: Is cunt now an acceptable blue word? And if so, when did it become so?
Personally I blame it on Rihanna - It’s true.
There’s barely a cultural phenomenon from a flash in the pan ‘moment’ to a change-the-face-of-the-world trend in the past 18 months that can’t be traced back to that spicy little Bajan (but that’s another rant), and the rise of cunt is no different.
You see, it’s one of her favourite words – she even has it on a necklace (classy), and has been know to tweet it in the presence of her young, adoring and incredibly easily influenced fans. She’s a bad, bad girl indeed.
[I blame my mother, the moment I heard her drop the c-bomb (in jest), I realised that we’d breached the last taboo. --Rebecca].
It was, in a way, inevitable though. All the other swear words have just become so, well, mundane. Bloody is child’s play. Bitch is endearing. Shit is just something you do. And Fuck – well, fuck is a jolly good time.
Cunt, though. Cunt is dilated pupils, puce with rage, frothing at the mouth rampaging lunatic talk. Cunt is the final straw, the last boundary – once you’ve said cunt there’s really no turning back.
And worse than that, cunt is cool. Cunt is look-at-me, young, free, you-can’t-touch-me, and we all know nothing trumps cool.
So, where does that leave us? And should we even be concerned? Cunt is after all just another word for vagina.
On my travels (indulge me, I’ve always wanted to say that), I discovered that in the lovely liberal Netherlands ‘kut’, their cunt equivalent, is not the rudest word at all, and can often be heard on the telly box.
It seems the Dutch use kut how we use shit, which when you think about it means that we are less offended, revolted and shamed by excrement than we are female genitalia – which doesn’t seem right to me.
Furthermore, is there a case for cunt, meaning what it does, being adopted by feminists? Should women take ownership, and lead the way in making a cunt something happy, and homely, and warm and kind?
And if that happened, then what would replace it as the rudest word in the world ever?