Haul yuh Mudda C*nt!

"How yuh looking fat so, de horner man breed yuh?"
"Haul yuh blasted mudda c*nt eh!"

Haul yuh mudda c*nt. This South Eastern Caribbean expletive is resplendent in its juxtaposition of the sacred and the most crude. It is of no use explaining to the persons who utter it, that in general, genitalia cannot be hauled around like baggage and that it usually stays put on the individual to which it is attached. HYMC is the mother of all insults, not to be used for mere inconvenience- it is reserved for special occasions, the Sunday Best of the curse words. Literally, it is a curse on your mother’s most intimate parts, implying that she has wasted the effort of labour by committing the heinous crime of bringing such a horrible person (you) into the world. It is a rudimentary, tough and ready way of telling you it was a waste of time that you were born.

I have heard this particular phrase so many times in my life-not at home though-my mother is much too shy and retiring to use any words like that (at least not in my presence). I often heard it whilst I was plaiting my hair on the steps of my neighbour’s house, many times spewing from the mouth of our resident alcoholic monikered Bound-to-Drunk, often directed at his longsuffering wife who dared to draw him away from his mistress, the bottle. I heard it many times hurtled over fences by quarrelling neighbours. On other occasions, it was angrily shouted by perfectly sober men at the end of a lengthy tirade. HYMC was hurled, in perpendicular fashion, in the slanging matches of those who played the characters of the “jamettes” and “wajangs”- it was screamed in loud voices, the oversized rocks in the sticks and stones of abuse in disputes over boundary lines, over children, and most times over men. I have seen grown men fight and draw for cutlasses (machetes) over HYMC- the insult runs deep. Sometimes it didn’t take much. A man asked you to go home with him at the end of one dance. HYMC. A girl who you “sipped” in the street didn’t dare to answer back. HYMC. A bus didn’t stop when you were waiting at the stop for 30 minutes. HYMC.

Obscene language is colourful in the Caribbean, almost like different notes of a high pitched song. The British have a linear choice of “bloody hell” “shit” and when he is really pissed off: “fuck” or “fucking hell” (see Gordon Ramsay variants on the F Word). Sure, there are less salubrious words (twat, bugger, dickhead) and of course the C sharp is used in isolation but there is nothing that comes close to parallel in pure invective terms of HYMC. The British would probably find it impolite solely because of the reference to one’s parents, although ritual swearing is probably one of the most ordinary things in Britain.

The Caribbean, in contrast, has all of the above but also boasts a colourful sprinkling of curse words that show off the music and creativity of our dialect. HYMC can be tempered among friends in jest to haul yuh arse (HYA). HYA can be said calmly and incredulously as in “no way” but also has the ability to be catapulted into a higher range depending on context. HYA, with the right emphasis can be almost as insulting as HYMC and at times, there is also the emphatic variant of Haul yuh Mudda Arse (HYMA). Still spirited but less vicious. Barbadians (Bajans) bolster asshole with a guttural “rasshole”. Jamaicans tend to use “bombo claat`”, making it the only place in the world where a woman’s sanitary napkin is a swearword. This has spiralled into “rassclaat” and “pussyclaat”. “Get outta me rassclaat face” “Yuh too bomboclaat shit up” is often heard in my neck of the woods. The Guyanese use ‘skunt” abbreviated for stinking you know what.

Society often tells us that using what they term swear words are bad for us. I personally believe that cursing is good for the soul. It is cathartic. Profanity adds emphasis. A concert can be awesome. But when a concert was “fucking” awesome, you know that the concert was off the chain! As a prolific private swearer I can personally attest that it often relieves negative energy, decreases tension and is a marvellous outlet for pent up frustration. Just as flowery romantic language is necessary to convey sentimental attachment, curse words are needed to link emotion with speech, in a visceral, basic way. Shakespeare and the classical playwrights use this earthy language. Walcott, a Nobel Prize Winner, uses it. I have always been taught that language serves and is subservient to human purposes and at times only a choice curse word will do. What good is an intellectual discourse with the person who insults you at the traffic lights, the council tax worker who takes obscene pleasure in charging you 70 quid for a single late payment, the rude waiter or waitress, the annoying telemarketer at the other end of the line. Chances are you may be talking in a language they fail to understand. Sometimes only an expletive will do- it is short, sweet and to the point. The result is deeply satisfying-almost spiritual.

You would think that the Caribbean, home to leisure and a “no problem mon” attitude would be rather lax about swearing. Oh no. The puritanistical religious fanatics strike. Letters to the Editors warn of the breakdown in society associated with use of swear words. Citizens are accused of behaving in a vile manner when they use this “ inappropriate, decadent, manner of speech”. Persons are warned in public, at times charged and taken to court for obscenities. In my town, someone actually went to jail for singing a few too many F-sharps to a police officer. Disorderly conduct. Land of the lawless. Moral breakdown. Sodom and Gomorrah. To that, I say HYMC.

I have a running list of the activities that should targeted as inappropriate, decadent and disrespectful to citizens instead of a few  choice swear words artfully delivered at the right time: misappropriation of public funds, bribery for votes, arbitrary taxation, unemployment, nepotism in public jobs, puerile parliamentary debates, directionless policy... shall I continue? Raasclaat- that's a long list.

New York Times author and professor at Lancaster University, Tony McEnery, traces this apparent public disdain for obscenities to historical campaigns. Starting in the late 17th century a movement swept the English speaking world which firmly linked purity of speech with power. Groups like the Society for the Reformation of Manners in the British Isles and the Society for the Propagation of the Gospel in Foreign Parts in the colonies began to fight against sin in all of its forms by preaching and prosecution. It will probably take us a long time to adjust to the fact that apart from being deeply insulting, a swear word is only a modus operandi of communication, a tool- there are no bad words, only bad thoughts.

Yes, at times swearing becomes habitual and reflex and it is then routine and highly annoying because many times the speaker becomes less articulate and uses them as fillers,. Surely, in the public sphere where there are other issues at play such as decorum and societal expectations it might not be wise to be effing and blinding. To some extent, in the presence of children, it would be best to temper one’s language as they do not yet possess the faculties to judge its use in a reasoned manner. In a professional environment it might be inappropriate.

However, in the privacy of your own home, curl your tongue around the letters. Say them softly and gently. Then scream them out at the top of your lungs. Let’s unite against the propriety police. One a day will certainly keep them away. HTMC