Ballsack, bollocksack, nutsack, bumper nuts, ballbag, beanbag, bawbag, fruit basket, scrot, scrote, escroto... the list goes on.
If I were a trashy foul-mouthed scribe who took delight in peppering vulgarities and equally offensive non-American words throughout his ramblings, I'd be tempted to use one of the above terms. But I am a man of science, built on reason and grounded by propriety. When I need a word to describe that wrinkly pouch of flesh situated deep in the mangrove swamps below the equator, I use the proper medical name: scrotum.
Even without its appropriateness, I find the word to have a beauty and rhythm, an indescribable poetic resonance that propels it past its meaning and into the spiritual realm of divinely ordained utterances.
Susan Patron, an award-winning author who included the word on the first page of her latest children's novel, "The Higher Power of Lucky," agrees.
"The word is just so delicious," Ms. Patron said in a New York Times interview. "It's one of those words that's so interesting because of the sound of the word."
How right she is. If only our ears and minds could nibble on more devilishly delicious words, the world might be a happier place.
Alas, not everyone grasps the concept of the word "scrotum" as fondly as Ms. Patron does. In fact, "scrotum" seems to be rubbing lots of folks the wrong the way.
This is no more visible than in the already hostile and divisive world of elementary school librarians, where the unremarkable anatomical reference has resulted in plenty of throat-clearing and polite ruler-tapping from outraged library curators.
Despite being honored with this year's Newbery Medal, the most respected accolade given in children's literature, the novel is being banned by scattered elementary school libraries around the country, and if the threats posted on electronic library mailing lists by lasciviousness-loathing librarians are true, more will follow.
Of course, there have been factions within the librarian community that have voiced concerns about banning the book, pitting old biddy against old biddy in an epic battle over decency vs. censorship.
Its response has been muted though, compared to that of the anti-scrotumites, so the orthopedic shoe seems destined to fall on the bunion-covered foot of decorum and restraint. And regardless of the outcome, this debate has brought into focus an age-old question: Who should decide what our children learn?
We can rule out school officials because they're just too inconsistent with their opinions. One minute they're trying to ban Harry Potter novels for canonizing witchcraft and satanism and the next they're trying to make a new cervical cancer-preventing STD vaccine mandatory for high school girls. Make up your mind: are you for the devil or against him?
My choice would be to give zany politicians, like Georgia State Rep. Ben Bridges, unyielding power in deciding what cute little things our young ones should fill their eager heads with. Long opposed to teaching evolution, Bridges has now apparently pronounced that the Big Bang theory is a Jewish conspiracy, stemming from 2,000-year-old writings in the Kabbalah by the "Pharisee Religion."
But while I applaud Bridges' bravery in telling it like it is, I realize that most sane legislators are too concerned with placating the general public, and education isn't exactly something meant to be bestowed upon the huddled and wretched masses. So who's left? Parents and the media.
While parents only bring two interpretations of any issue to the table, the media can showcase at least four viewpoints (this number depends on any future mergers between the handful of mega-corporations that control the whole racket). The media have focus groups and consultants desperately trying to figure out what they think kids need. When was the last time the PTA spent millions on market research?
Parents are ever more reluctant, if not lazy, to talk to their children about sex and other crucial aspects of growing up. With shows like "My Super Sweet Sixteen," "Juvies" and "Engaged And Underage," MTV now holds the ultimate monopoly on life lessons.
None of this matters, though, because mom and pop won't even be there to show their lack of concern.
Parents are increasingly absent during their offspring's childhoods, yet TV and the Internet are the red-light districts for the mind, always open and hovering like nightwalkers awaiting the call of duty. Let's just hope they stay away from the scrotum.
