The surprise attack on Hawaii came on a quiet Sunday morning, and it fell to the president of the United States to rally a confused and stricken nation one day later in a momentous address to Congress:

“Yesterday, Dec. 7, 1941—a date which will live as totally fucked up—the United States of America was suddenly and deliberately attacked by the naval and air forces of Japan.”

That’s the power of language at work. And who can forget the image of an American commander in chief in Berlin on the front lines of the Cold War: “Mr. Gorbachev, tear down this fucking wall.”

Let’s be mature about this. Franklin D. Roosevelt and Ronald Reagan both surely dropped a choice word or two in private, even on solemn subjects like Pearl Harbor and Soviet tyranny. Democrat Beto O’Rourke, meanwhile, has not actually signaled that he will make the F-bomb a central part of his rhetorical arsenal in the unlikely event he becomes the next president.

He is, however, apparently hoping that vulgarity will be an engine of his political revival in the Democratic presidential contest. In doing so, he is part of a confluence of factors serving to mainstream what once counted as the most forbidden entry in the roster of four-letter words.

Notice to reader: The examples above are just two of 14 profanities in this story. Editors decided to skip the coy dashes and asterisks and more straightforward [expletive deleteds]. How else to handle it when a candidate for president infuses a policy statement after a horrific mass shooting with the phrase, “This is fucked up”?

On social media and in interviews, O’Rourke’s profanity has proved to be something of a political Rorschach test.

Pro: He has found a searing and even eloquent way of cutting through the madness and violence of the age. The real obscenity, by these lights, is routine mass shootings and the paralytic response they engender from the governing class, to which O’Rourke’s incredulity is a powerfully authentic rejoinder.

Con: O’Rourke’s profanity is risible, a perfect summary of a campaign that even before was mocked for its alleged preening and Wayne’s World affect. Even if the first time he dropped the F-bomb came as a genuine outburst, his repetition on Twitter and now official campaign T-shirts reveals calculation and contrivance—making his vulgarities the opposite of the authenticity they supposedly convey.

Either way, the Texan’s coarse language is a frivolous dimension of a serious question for Democrats: Should progressive leaders confront the rawness and norm-shattering nature of President Donald Trump’s political style with something similar? Or should they stand for a return to standards that used to be assumed for any presidential contender—including language reflecting the gravity of the office, or at a minimum was G-rated?

Before O’Rourke, the public figure who arguably was most notorious for his prolific use of the F-word was Rahm Emanuel, who kept the salty parlance of a political operative even as he became a member of Congress, White House chief of staff, and mayor of Chicago.

Emanuel, who calls himself “a reformed swearer,” acknowledged in an interview, “I’ve got this notorious reputation and I’m not saying that I don’t swear but you’ve never heard me publicly swear. … I actually don’t think it’s the right thing to do.”

“I think people are being exhausted by vulgarity and I think [the candidates] should be engaging people on the future” through the power of ideas, Emanuel explained.

But some other Obama White House veterans were more tolerant of O’Rourke’s rhetorical excesses.

“It’s good for him to show a little emotion and get angry so that people can see exactly where he stands and that he will fight for what he believes in," said Stephanie Cutter, Obama's former 2012 deputy campaign manager and cofounder of Precision Strategies.

“Most candidates do talk like this and they talk like this to their teams and at the bar with reporters, and they get credit for being real people and not engaged in some veneer,” said former Obama press operative Ben LaBolt. “Beto has used it to demonstrate outrage about some really outrageous issues that the United States should have been able to solve many years ago, and so his approach would distinguish himself from somebody who would serve in the Senate and say ‘my dear friend’ and ‘my dear colleague.’”

By so frequently crossing a line that once might have been career-ending, O’Rourke is partly changing the political culture, and partly reflecting changes that are already underway.

As far back as September 2014, Trump tweeted: “Every time I speak of the haters and losers I do so with great love and affection. They can not help the fact that they were born fucked up!” More recently, in late March of this year, Trump told a campaign rally that Democrats should stop “defrauding the public with ridiculous bullshit."

In June 2017, Sen. Kirsten Gillibrand, who recently ended her presidential campaign, tried to stir a conference on technology and democracy by imploring, “If we are not helping people, we should go the fuck home.”

At the start of the year, newly elected Democratic Rep. Rashida Tlaib made a splash by saying of Trump, “We’re gonna impeach the motherfucker.”

Another newly elected member of Congress, Abigail Spanberger of Virginia, was recently quoted by The Cut noting the annoyance of being asked as a female candidate about her “self-care” on the campaign trail: “I’m like, ‘I don’t have fucking self-care! I’m running for Congress.’”

But O’Rourke is the one who has made the word his signature. After making his Texas Senate race surprisingly competitive, before narrowly losing, in 2018, O’Rourke went viral with his concession speech in which he praised supporters, “I’m so fucking proud of you guys.”

When he began his bid for president, O’Rourke was scolded at a campaign stop by a voter who urged him to “clean up his act” and not use profanity in ways were children will hear it. “Point taken, and very strongly made,” O’Rourke replied, promising to “keep it clean.”

But last month, meeting with reporters after the mass shooting in his hometown of El Paso, O’Rourke seemed impatient with what he regarded as the naivete of some questions about Trump’s role in inciting violence. “Members of the press, what the fuck?!” he exclaimed.

There are two facts about the F-word that most people learn early in their teenage years: The reaction it gets depends on context, and its shock value tends to diminish rapidly. O’Rourke’s initial uses of the word did seem a little like a young person at a family dinner: Wonder how the table will respond?

On balance, O’Rourke seems pleased with the reaction, at least among the people he cares most about. After new shootings in Texas, he went on CNN last Sunday morning to say: “We’re averaging about 300 mass shootings a year. No other country comes close. So, yes, this is fucked up." He also defended his swearing by saying that it was "just honest" and important "to shock the conscience of this country."

O'Rourke's campaign also noted that all of the proceeds for his profane T-shirt go to March for Our Lives and Moms Demand.

Brit Hume, the prominent Fox News journalist, commented on Twitter, “As if his sewermouth will somehow give his argument more power.”

But Matt Bennett, a Democratic strategist unaffiliated with any presidential campaign and long-time gun control advocate, believes O’Rourke was rightly trying to shake people and signal that conventional politics isn’t adequate in the context of recurring mass murders.

“I think he’s decided that profanity can help him add emphasis where other language fails,” said Bennett. “Indeed, how else does one underscore their anger with, frustration at, and contempt for public officials who fail to act in the face of such horror? We all have been railing about this for years (decades in my case). How else do we signal that this situation is singularly obscene?"

George Lakoff, a retired Berkeley linguist who has written extensively on how Democrats sometimes lose political arguments by not effectively employing the power of language, was uncertain on the wisdom of O’Rourke’s shattering of old proprieties. “It’s basically saying: This is really important. Pay attention.”

O’Rourke may have grabbed attention, but it’s not clear how long he will keep it, at least based on the power of profanity. Forty-five years ago, the country was shocked by the prodigious use of Oval Office profanity—often as part of contemptuous and vindictive rants against opponents—by Richard Nixon and his aides when the White House tapes were released. The news media, reflecting the standards of the time, didn’t print the words but replaced them with “[expletive deleted].” Anticipating Tlaib by several decades, protesters outside the White House gates carried placards saying “Impeach the expletive deleted!”

But a generation that currently has made a star of Lana Del Rey and her album “Norman Fucking Rockwell!” with its hit song “Fuck It I Love You” isn’t likely to stay shocked, or perhaps even interested, for very long by O’Rourke’s language.

Back in 2004, when then-Vice President Dick Cheney told Democratic Sen. Patrick Leahy to “Go fuck yourself” on the floor of the Senate, many news organizations debated internally about how to report the obviously newsworthy exchange—since it involved words that were forbidden by their editorial standards.

Those qualms seem irrelevant in the current climate.

Veteran reporter Nicholas Lemann, a former dean of Columbia University’s school of journalism, said these days, as politics grows more openly coarse, the news media should have no compunction about just reporting exactly what public figures say. The old notion of news organizations as a kind of unifying public square, in which editors had to primly enforce rules to ensure that the most sensitive people in the audience weren’t offended, has gone by the wayside now that every online reader is essentially his or her own editor.

“If they said it, you should quote it,” Lemann advises.

Another journalist, James Fallows, also served as a stint as a speechwriter for Jimmy Carter, who he recalled sometimes swore in private but very rarely.

He sees O’Rourke’s language as a sign of the times.

“As an old guy,” said Fallows, who last month turned 70, “I’ll avoid any decline in civilization, but I guess until recently public figures felt that they had to observe a public-private barrier. ... Politicians have always been earthy people, but we are seeing the time, at least for the moment, the earthiness membrane is being pierced or is permeable.”