When, on occasion, onion slicing turns abruptly to finger slicing, I don't say shoot, or golly, or even damn. But he knows exactly what we forget, which is that all these words — the F bomb, C U next Tuesday, faggot, and many others — contain a complex power that is at least in part because of their gestural suitability. I drop the old F bomb, repeatedly, because it works a lot better in expressing how I feel about the situation, and it simply feels right. For girls it was more confusing, but had something to do with short hair, softball and unladylike consumer choices. My six-year-old son asked me, "What's a faggot? Those people were not talked about by the adults when I was a child, but they were all around, so we kids were left to our own devices.
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