There are times when nothing seems to communicate what we're feeling inside better than an emphatically exhaled curse word.

I find swearing to be most effective when used like black or white truffles in the kitchen: Sparingly with an eye to the cost.

Gratuitous swearing misses the point. Gilbert and Sullivan wrote, “If everybody is somebody then no one’s anybody.” Indiscriminately calling everyone a “son of a bitch” diminishes the limelight that true sons of bitches should enjoy all by themselves.

Likewise, if every third word out of a person’s mouth is “motherfucker” the end result is often feeling a strange urge to begin defending both mothers and fuckers against further libelous insult.

Two critically acclaimed movies, in their own genres, exemplify the trouble with gratuitous swearing.

Martin Scorsese's “The Departed” won four oscars in 2006, including Best Picture. It also carries the dubious distinction of having used the “F” word in some form or another at least 226 times. That’s a lot of “f”-ing cursing even for Irishmen. (I’m Irish okay?)

The low budget horror cult classic of 2000 titled, “Ginger Snaps,” starring the underrated and extremely talented Emily Perkins, would be a far better film if a few of the characters possessed other epithetical weapons in their arsenals besides the “F” bomb.

Yet in defense of swearing I have to say that few things communicate absolute frustration like hearing the “S” word, slowly hissed out at the beginning and emphasized phonetically at the end. Though frequently overworked, this expletive - either expressed as mentioned or in the much shorter violent staccato method -  communicates on a level that makes many whole sentences of pent up anger pale in comparison.

“Damn” is an extremely communicative swear word. For a monosyllabic  exclamation it's surprisingly capable of showing an entire range of emotions - including an earthy yet complementary appreciation of almost anything, as in the expression “Dayum!”

There are, however, a few nagging questions in regard to cursing and swearing. They are: Who gets to swear? At what age? And why?

Kids either learn to swear from their parents, peers, the media or all three. But at what age is it okay for them to let loose with an “R-rated” string of expletives that will make grandma reach for her nitroglycerin? Is it some year randomly selected by their parents? And if so how do we deflect the rightly offered accusation of “hypocrite” if we regularly employ curses ourselves? Is adulthood the magic time when swearing is appropriate? And who made this rule?

It has gotta be confusing for kids to grow up hearing their parents describe neighbors, clerks at stores, and drivers on the road as “mofos,” and “sons of bitches” and then be told to “watch their mouth” (a physical impossibility by the way without a mirror) as a consequence of simply emulating or imitating the speech patterns of the adult.

Cursing can be both effective and offensive - depending on the circumstances and company kept. It is often a pretty accurate indicator of the respect we feel for others as well as the level of ability we possess to communicate ideas in the most compelling and attractive manner.

Personally I’ve opted for a very limited and sparingly used supply of the seasoning in my shaker when it comes to salty language. I like the feeling of knowing that if I swear my friends and family realize I’m either messing around or that I’m expressing something I feel deserves a rare form of attention. It also adds gravitas when warning my daughter to never allow her language to convey that she is not every bit the bright, brilliant, articulate kid that she is.

While listening to a friend of a friend describe her feelings regarding current events, the newly made acquaintance said, “Geez Beth, you swear like a sailor.” To which the WAC replied, “I am a sailor you a-hole.”

Gratuitous swearing - like too much cheap scotch - can have some real nauseating side effects. On the other hand, a well chosen expletive might be compared to a dram of the best single malt in the world (which is arguably Lagavulin).

And thus, after having rambled more than a wee bit on the subject, this Scotch-Irishman ends his diatribe on the pros and cons of swearing with an illustration involving a damn fine whisky.