Not quite. Or not yet. Because there’s cultural swearing, which is merely late-stage capitalism at work, an arousal probe, prodding us in our jaded consumer receptors, blah blah blah. And then there’s the swearing that happens between people. Between drinkers. Between soccer players. Between shoppers in Best Buy on Black Friday, and drivers on the Massachusetts Turnpike. And this kind of swearing is marvelously intimate and alive. Here you can be rhythmical, poetical. You can discharge your fury or your desire, all of it, in a single puff of profanity. You can shoot blue bolts of language like a warlock, piercing the force field of your antagonist and pushing him backwards.