Mark Oppenheimer
Farah Fawcett died. She didn’t pass away.
Today, my Yahoo home page informed me of the news that Farah Fawcett “passes away.” No thank you— she DIED. Euphemisms be gone. What next: “Farah Fawcett goes to Jesus”? Or, in weird John Edward (the psychic) New-Age-speak, “Farah Fawcett passes”? It’s sad, people, very sad. I miss her. But that’s no excuse for tawdry euphemism. She died.
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Puts me in mind of a general overseeing the invasion of Baghdad in April 2003 (can’t remember which one and the Interwebs tell me it could have been either Franks or Mosely) who was asked whether we were “softening up” the Republican Guard. The answer: “We aren’t softening them up. We’re killing them.”
This makes me think of George Carlin’s rail against euphemism and what he called soft language. The routine ends thusly: “And it’s okay, because thanks to our fear of death in this country, I won’t have to die…I’ll pass away. Or I’ll expire like a magazine subscription. If it happens in the hospital, they’ll call it a terminal episode. The insurance company will refer to it as negative patient-care outcome. And if it’s the result of malpractice, they’ll say it was a therapeutic misadventure. I’m telling you, some of this language makes me want to vomit. Well, maybe not vomit. Makes me want to engage in an involuntary personal protein spill.”