The title of one of my upcoming books has the word “Fuck” in it. Unsurprisingly, most of the early conversations I’ve had with publishers have come up rather abruptly on this word quicker than a thirsty berserker on a blonde maiden.
The word Fuck is undoubtedly taboo in Western society, and in my opinion, quite beautifully so.
No other word in the english language is as fucking diverse and complex in it’s meanings and applications. It’s a word I’ve always loved and quite frankly, there is no substitute that even comes close for by book’s title.
But where for me, the word Fuck holds great liberating power, that power is too great to wield for many publishers. Particularly if I’d like my book to appear on shelves of bookstores (an honour not shared by Modern Viking yet in the UK).
There are 2 reasons I need the word Fuck in my books title:
- There really is no other word that carries the same gravitas
- The book itself teaches therapeutic release of stress and anxiety – something which is also psychologically proven by merely saying the word “Fuck” aloud
Erasing Fuck As A Naive Entrepreneur
When I started pitching small businesses for my first ‘real’ company, a web development agency, I actively tried to change the way I spoke.
I listened to Audiobooks to neutralise my “common north english” accent, and I slowly replaced the curse-words that I still lazily withdrew from my lexicon.
I was an 18 year old speaking to 30 year olds, and I thought that meant I needed to speak like a “grown up”. Cursing was something only done by blue-collar workers and angry teenagers. Right?
Fucking wrong!
Wearing A Mask For The World
Fortunately that business grew and I was able to sell it years later, but one thing that really bothers me when I look back, is the mask it forced me to wear. I ran the fuck away from who I was and how I spoke. I forgot how beautiful it was to swear, I forgot how much it calmed my soul.
I forgot the power of Fuck.
Colour and Complexity
There are 864 ways to use the word Fuck.
Okay I totally just fucking lied, but who gives a fuck? I have no fucking clue how many ways there are exactly, but you can abso-fucking-lutely guarantee that the number is big. You want statistics, speak to a fucking accountant.
There are times when the average person’s vocabulary just doesn’t quite have the right power. When what they need to say needs more colour. More grit. More humour. A sharper edge.
And they’ll be fucked if they aren’t going to say what the fuck they want!
The Freedom Of Fuck
There’s a freedom in Fuck. A freedom in tearing away the mask imposed by the expectations of civil society. A freedom in remembering who we are behind closed doors is who we are – when people expect us to wear a mask, they’re denying us the permission to fucking express who we are.
And by denying you that permission, they’re telling you that you need their permission.
There is no freedom in waiting for societies permission.
Stop Waiting For Permission
I like to fucking swear. I like to say fuck for dramatic effect. I like to say fuck when I’m angry so that I can avoid any misinterpretation of my mood. I like to say “Fuck Me!” when a beautiful woman takes off her dress and reveals sexy red lingerie.
And at the end of the day, who are we as Modern Vikings if not men and women who love to do what the fuck they want?
We are on a journey to becoming Modern Vikings who work fucking hard on ourselves so that we can fuck shit up when we need to; So that we can take what the fuck we want from life; So that can explore wherever the fuck we want to explore, and Fuck whoever we want to fuck when we get there!
It’s idealist of me to expect you all to be fucking free from reading this. You probably think I’m fucking delusional, a 28 year old who doesn’t understand the restricted rules of being a miserable fucking lawyer.
But take this with you – say Fuck today. Say it 5 times. Say it alone or say it to 5 strangers in your day. Tell the barista she looks “Fucking lovely”. Tell your coworker they are “fucking irritating today”.
Experience a world today, just for one day, where you don’t need anyone’s fucking permission.
Or if this blog post offended you, then I’m pleased to provide you with the permission you need to go fuck yourself.