Fuck: I do not think it means what you think it means

February 20, 2008 at 1:33 pm 7 comments

This is the second of a three-part essay about semantics and a quote from The Princess Bride. Read the first part here. The third part is forthcoming.

It’s questionable whether we all see the same color blue. But it’s definite that we do not always speak the same language, even when we are using the same words. That’s because certain words have stretchy meanings. They contain concepts that are bigger than their common connotations.

There are three words I use that do not mean what you think they mean. They are: love, fuck, and god.

“Fuck” is a challenging word in the English language. It is undoubtedly an obscenity. Net Nanny programs are probably blocking this page right now because I’m using it. Which is just as well because only consenting adults who have signed liability waivers on file while with Omnivore Inc are actually allowed to read it. What do you mean you don’t remember signing that? I’m calling tech support!

Word nerds will know the etymological origins of “fuck.” Its predecessors meant both “to copulate” and “to strike.” Andrea Dworkin and her crew made much of these double meanings during the anti-porn crusades of the 1970s and 1980s. I’m glad for the radical feminists who broke the land for me. And I’m also glad that for the sex-positive queers who came after Dworkin and provided clean, well-lighted places for women to get their sexxay on. As a kinky woman who enjoys getting fucked, I get the whole copulating/hitting connection. Cunnilingus is awesome, but so is the feel of a cock or a dildo repeatedly striking my cervix. So is a spanking. Or a beating. From either end. Provided it’s consensual, of course.

Fucking usually refers to sexual intercourse. Not sure what I mean by sexual intercourse? I present to you the Family Research Council-approved definition:

One man and one woman get married, preferably in a church. The state sanctions their wedding and they get to save money on things like health insurance and income taxes. After a big, expensive wedding, they go to a special place called a bedroom. They turn out the lights, take off all their clothes in the dark, and then the man inserts his penis into the woman’s vagina. Eventually he ejaculates some semen into her vagina for the purpose of conceiving a child.

Of course, this definition fails to mention all my favorite parts about sex. I prefer the definition put forth by Alyssa in Chasing Amy. Fucking is about a sexual act. It’s not always penetrative. It is, however, raw and lustful. It’s different than making love (which can be nice too but doesn’t make for nearly as fascinating reading, IMHO). When I tell someone to fuck me in the throes of passion, I’m not saying “please stick your penis (or fingers or other object) inside my vagina.” I’m saying “keep doing that because it feels good.” I’m saying “I am completely in your control and I like it. I like being objectified and I’m feeling slutty and hot and delicious and I want you to keep doing what you’re doing until I come like gangbusters.”

I like being fucked. And I like fucking.

This slippage in meaning (or semantic disparity, if you will), got me in trouble once during a very hot, very chance, very spontaneous encounter with a gorgeous redheaded California farm boy on the beach alongside Highway One just south of Santa Cruz. He was doing a marvelous job of going down on me in the sand between some sheltering rocks. “Oh, fuck me, fuck me,” I cried, per usual, as his tongue did that thing a tongue can do to drive me insane. I was not requesting that he insert his penis inside me, especially since neither of us had a condom. But he took me more literally than I’d intended and proceeded to fuck me in the more traditional manner. For reasons for that are outside the scope of this entry but which did not involve mind-altering substances, I wasn’t quite possessed of my senses enough to stop him.

Luckily, the gods of high-risk sexual behavior decided to let me off with a warning ticket. I’m fortunate that I didn’t get of those nasty diseases men can give you. I hear there’s one where this little replica of yourself and the other person actually grows inside of you and then you have to take care of it for the rest of your life.

Entry filed under: being a bad bisexual, bisexuality, fucking, memoir, sluts have more fun, Uncategorized. Tags: , , , , , .

Love: I do not think it means what you think it means We interrupt this philosophical discussion for more kink

7 Comments Add your own

  • 1. Joe  |  February 20, 2008 at 2:04 pm

    Actually, the word ‘FUCK’ comes from ancient England, people could not have sex without consent from the King. When people wanted to have a child, they had to solicit a permission to the monarchy, in turn they would supply a plaque to hang on their door when they had sexual relations. The Plaque read…’Fornication Under Consent of the King’ (F.U.C.K.) – This is the origin of the word.

  • 2. omnivoresdilemma  |  February 20, 2008 at 2:06 pm

    I’ve never run across that particular etymology before. Do you have sources to support it?

  • 3. D  |  February 20, 2008 at 5:59 pm

    I sometimes say “Fuck me hard,” as a giant sigh. It’s probably good that no one’s around when I do that.

  • 4. ace  |  February 20, 2008 at 11:06 pm

    The idea that “fuck” was originally an acronym is wrong. See


    and also


  • 5. omnivoresdilemma  |  February 20, 2008 at 11:16 pm

    Thanks for clearing that up, Ace. It smacked of urban legend.

  • […] God: I do not think it means what you think it means March 9, 2008 Posted by omnivoresdilemma in childhood awakenings, god, pleasure, semantics, sluts have more fun, spirituality. Tags: AA, god, paganism, religion, religious tolerance, semantics, sexuality, the 12 steps trackback This is the third of a three-part essay about semantics and a quote from The Princess Bride. Read the first part here and the second part here. […]

  • […] are three words I use that do not mean what you think they mean. They are: love, fuck, and […]

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