Elton John and Bernie Taupin's "Someone Saved My Life Tonight": Language and Intent--the Responsibility of Using Language Earnestly.

What one learns early on as a writer is that the power of language comes not from individual words but words in context.  This is a no-duh, literally speaking, for a sentence carries with it the combined meanings of all the words contained with it.  Likewise, a paragraph, stanza or strophe carries the combined meanings of the lines or sentences contained within it.  And a complete work--prose or poetry--carries the combined meanings of every sub-organizational feature--line, sentence, stanza, chapter, etc.--within it.

But what the writer learns quickly is that the impact of words change dramatically according to how they are used--that a work of literature is greater than the sum of its parts.  Context gives words power beyond the measure of their definitions.

Because of this, it is very difficult for writers to label words as "good" or "bad", "weak" or "strong", "obscene" or "virtuous", "profane" or "lofty".   Every meaning depends on context.

For me, a perfect example of this is the righteous "damn it" contained in Bernie Taupin's lyrics to Elton John's music in "Someone Saved My Life Tonight".

The song chronicles how a musician has let the glitz, glamor and success of stardom sweep him away from his moral compass:

When I think of those East End lights
Muggy nights
The curtains drawn in the little room downstairs
Prima Donna lord you really should have been there
Sitting like a princess perched in her electric chair
And it's one more beer
and I don't hear you anymore
We've all gone crazy lately,
my friend's out there rolling round the basement floor.

This journey down through hell has been led by a woman who worships Babylon, which the speaker until now has willingly followed:

And I would have walked head on into the deep end of the river
clinging to your stocks and bonds
Paying your H.P. demands forever.

Except "someone" saved his life.  We never learn who that "someone" is.  Perhaps a friend, a new significant other, the muse, or as I read it, a higher power.  But regardless of who or what saves the speaker, his saving grace arises in a moment of righteous anger akin to Christ walking into the temple and turning the tables of the money changers over:

It's four o'clock in the morning
Damn it!
Listen to me good.
I'm sleeping with myself tonight
Saved in time, thank God my music's still alive.

Here, in this context, Damn it! is a righteous phrase, the only words that can adequately express the realization of the speaker of how far he's fallen.  But notice that it's not overkill.  It's the only profanity in the song.  If it was surrounded by a string of vulgarity, as is so common in lyrics these days, it would actually lose its moral power.  When it comes to using profanity in literature, less is almost certainly more.  Otherwise, it simply deadens the senses and demoralizes the audience.

Of course, you could never regulate such a thing.  Context is everything.  If "damn it" was written off as "naughty" and censored for the good of the public, we'd never have this powerful hallelujah cry of personal triumph over sin.  Nothing is more dangerous to the human spirit than censorship.

So, for my religious readers, Mormon or otherwise, I cannot promise that you'll never find profanity in my posts.  What I can promise you is this: though not perfect by any means (as a person or a writer), I choose my words carefully and try to present truth as I see it to the best of my ability in a format most conducive to convey the intended message.  As that message varies greatly between posts, so does my language.

For my readers who don't give a damn about profanity and think this is the post of a repressed Mormon trying to negotiate an ounce of freedom in a culture that stifles creativity--well, I'm use to that.

But this what I know for sure.  Language has immense power.  Although I'm a mediocre, dull dope in most ways, for whatever reason, I've been given a powerful tongue and with that power comes great responsibility.  Call me pompous if you will, but just as Williams Shakespeare and Emily Dickinson somehow knew their words would outlive them, I too know my words will outlive me.  It may be impossible to be an earnest artist of any sort without this belief.  Ultimately, artists know their notes, brush strokes, designs or words are unearned gifts and that they possess unwarranted power.

The more vein of us use these gifts at whim without any thought of either the consequences or where these powers might have come from.  Those of us who have an ounce of humility realize these gifts come with weight and responsibility.  It is my earnest wish to carry that load gracefully and if I ever offend someone undeservedly, I hope you will forgive me.

Postscript:

Now, Richard Dawkins, I want that debate, whether I'm ready or not.  Read my blog you great biomass of intellect and bring it on!  I have images of Star Wars in my head.  I'm sure you know who you are in this simple-minded scenario.  (Your breath stinks even through that black helmet.)  May the force be with me.  I'll need it!

(If you have no idea what the postscript is talking about, see my post "Brandon Flowers, Here Are Some Song Lyrics for You; Richard Dawkins, Call me, I'll Debate You Any Time".)