A young and vibrant member of our family died on Saturday. Those words feel like lies, and it cannot be true that Bjorn Nielsen is not alive. I cannot understand, and writing about it does not help.
Writing seems to be a cathartic, but at the moment, only screaming or crying feel real. Which points to the fact that words alone are woefully inadequate to express one’s life. I say that we “language” in order to do life. And while that is partially true, the part for which it is untrue is a huge gap in communication. Images, maybe, might also be better than words. Here’s one, for instance, that a friend of BJ’s cross-stitched (how delicious that a man cross-stitched a motto for another man). Hmmmm…on the other hand, it DOES use language to express itself. Ah-ha! And there we see the wonderful value of “taboo” words to say what normative and conventional words cannot.
I wrote a scholarly paper once, arguing that the language level of the word “fuck” had changed from obsenity to slang.