“Plagued in Syracuse” asks, What the fuck?
In preparation for my answer, I have deeply immersed myself in your question—I have read the newspaper and exclaimed it approximately seven times. I have read my morning email and whispered What the Fuck more times than I’d care to admit. I have even rearranged the order of the words—e.g. Fuck the what? The what fuck?—in the hope that I will have adequately turned over this idea in my brain. It is an important question. And you, my dear Syracusean, are not the only English-speaking human being to have been plagued by it. In fact, I would go as far as to say that it is becoming an epidemic, which is why I plucked your question from the sackful that I receive each week. And so I come to my response: In this time of Supreme Court judges who believe that Satan is a “real person” (Feel free to Google this and see who it is . . . ) “What the fuck” is our way of expressing our belief in an omniscient universe. It is a shortcut approach. When we utter this question, we are not really asking a question at all. What we are saying is some kind of variation of the following: Dear Universe, Please confirm my sanity for me. Allow me to go on living, assured that what I believe has not been annihilated. But you will concede that this is a bit of a mouthful, isn’t it? Plus it sounds a little bit “high falutin’.” Whereas “What the Fuck” sounds right, acts right, and is also a great leveler. So, my Syracusean Friend, no need to feel plagued; instead, when you utter this three-syllabled phrase know that you are being held in the embrace of a sane universe. Use it freely and to your heart’s desire. And know that you are not alone.