1433 Fudgesicle

A Media Personality whose name I refuse to use recently described Obama’s State of the Union “Sputnik Moment” comment as a “WTF Moment.”
Potty mouth.
I had to wonder, does she know what WTF means?
I can tell you, it’s not “What’s That Frank?”
Or “What the Fudgesicle.”
Naturally, as a media person myself, and one much schooled in What the Fudgesicle people may say on the radio, I wonder why it is the word itself cannot be said, but the thought communicated in no uncertain terms.
How long would it take to annoy a person if you kept saying, “You’re an N-word.”?
Or how long do you think a schoolteacher would tolerate a bunch of boys saying loudly and vociferously and in every possible variation and intonation, S-word S-word S-word.
There is a fine line between punishing someone for intent and punishing them for action. But less of a fine line for calling them on the fudgesicling carpet for it.
Jimmy Carter once caused a big stir by his anguished admission to committing lust in his heart. His southern democratic successor committed far more than lust and also took a lot of heat for niggling over the correct definition of the word “is.”
But as far as I know, neither one of them would dare use the letters w, t, and f, in that order, in that way, without fully expecting some outrage from the general public.
Which we have seen very little of. Which may mean the American public is now so blasé about the incendiary and obviously attention-grabbing moments produced by this personality that they just don’t care anymore. We are jaded.
The raw areas once rubbed on our psyches are now calloused. The nerves frozen.
We just don’t give a Fudgesicle anymore.
America, ya gotta love it.