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The best anger torrents I’ve ever heard are the gibberish ones in “A Christmas Story”. Ralphie’s dad doing battle with the furnace, weaving “…a tapestry of obscenity that, as far as we know, is still hanging in space over Lake Michigan”. Ralphie “speaking in strange tongues” when Scut Farcus pushes him too far. And, though it’s not a torrent, the wonderful moment when Ralphie blurts out “…the Queen Mother of Dirty Words, the F-dash-dash-dash-Word” that he’d picked up from his dad.
A few years ago, I helped dismantle some sets at an exhibit. As I worked, I became aware that the other workers were giggling. Why? Because I was muttering obscenities at the things I was working on, and because this torrent of filth was coming from the mouth of the only female there. I wasn’t aware I was doing it until I heard the giggling. Evidently, I’d picked up the technique from my dad. Letting frustration out in steady little bits like that prevents it from building up into one big explosion. Unless you injure yourself.
When that happens, no English cuss words are as satisfying as a few enthusiastically delivered Ukrainian ones. They don’t just get the venom out; they’re funny, too! And I’ll tell you a secret: The “Queen Mother of Ukrainian Dirty Words” just happens to be identical to the 3-letter name of a certain drinkable yogurt. It gives a whole new meaning to that commercial for it with the guy who sings that when he wakes up in the morning, he doesn’t want cereal; he wants his mama to give him Y-dash-dash!
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