December, 1988. London (or perhaps Tooting). A 20-year-old dancer, lean, attractive – my girlfriend at the time – abruptly says, in a throaty growl, “Do you know what your cunting daughter did?”
Surprised, I laugh. “What did you say?!”
But she won’t say it twice. She said it once for shock effect. Once was enough, no more. She explains with a mischievous smile, pinking a little at the cheeks, that it’s a quote from The Exorcist.
Which means I’ve seen it before, because I’ve seen the movie, so this isn’t my first exposure to the word cunting. It’s just the first one I remember.
And actually it’s not exactly that way in the movie; it’s this:
You may be tempted to go to YouTube to see more of the scene for context. I really don’t think you want to do that. I have to tell you that you will almost certainly wish you hadn’t. I will not be held responsible if you do. But I will say that the swearword of choice does gain a greater literality from it.
Question, though: How does one cunt? Continue reading