Fuck. It’s satisfying just to say the word, isn’t it? Not only is “fuck” one of the most vivid and malleable profanities ever to get your face slapped or a kid’s mouth rinsed out with soap, but it possesses a certain phonetic integrity, a graceful yet utilitarian compactness, from opening fricative to closing plosive. Granted, it’s still not a word to use in polite company — that is, unless you happen to be at the Tattered Cover in LoDo tonight to witness Jesse Sheidlower’s presentation and signing of his book The F-Word. Now celebrating its massively updated and expanded third edition, The F-Word explores the etymology, evolution and eternal glory of the F-bomb, from its hazy origins in antiquity to its modern-day quirks and compounds (“artfuck,” anyone?).
Sheidlower, an editor at large of the Oxford English Dictionary, will appear at the store, 1628 16th Street, at 7:30 p.m.; for information, call 303-436-1070 or visit www.tatteredcover.com. You’ll probably never hear the word “fuck” uttered in such a detached, refined and even rarefied manner — or by a more scholarly gentleman — ever again. That said, Sheidlower’s website bears this ass-covering disclaimer: “The content [of The F-Word] is neither endorsed by nor associated with the OED.” Now, that’s fucking bullshit.
Tue., Oct. 6, 7:30 p.m., 2009
