The invasion of the ICE brigades in Minneapolis was at its height. Hundreds of federal border patrol and immigration agents had taken to the streets of America’s 16th largest metropolitan area. Two people, both 37 years old, a young mother and a male nurse, were shot and killed by ICE agents. Despite sub-freezing temperatures in late January, thousands of protestors had taken to the streets — across the nation.

Minneapolis’ 46-year old mayor, Jacob Frey, his brown hair tasseling down his forehead, was furious. A track all-star in college and a graduate of Villanova University Law School, Frey, mayor for eight years and sometimes criticized for being too moderate, campaigned on improving police-community relations. And now, this, two murders on his streets.

On Jan. 7, he held a news conference, picked up by the national TV networks at the peak of the ICE chaos. He looked straight into the cameras without a stutter: "Get the f--- out of our city," he declared. Earlier he called ICE’s defense of its killings “bulls---.” Last I looked, two million viewers on YouTube had watched his press conference. Curses equal clicks.

Abnormal words spoken in public in an abnormal time. Although, perhaps, the words might have been appropriate in this moment of anger and fury. I’ve always told my own kids that even curse words have their place in expressing certain anger. But the beast was out of the bag; the F-bomb was right in front of us all on national television.

We all drop f-bombs. But should we curse in public?

Not to say that it was a first. It’s widely known that in private Lyndon Johnson and Richard Nixon swore like — well, like sailors and, more recently, like the rest of the population. (Nearly 65% of the population swears daily, experts say.) And twice Joe Biden was caught on a “hot mic” using the F-word, but never in public comments.

But on June 5 last year even the president came out of the closet. Leaving the White House, President Donald Trump stood on a lawn and lashed out at Israel and Iran who have “been fighting so long and so hard that they don't know what the f--- they're doing."

Even for Trump — known often to use coarse language — this on-camera utterance of the F-word was new. American Presidents have typically refrained from using it publicly, even when angry or frustrated.

“In no instance do I recall a president openly using this term in a public forum," said Russell Riley, a presidential historian at the University of Virginia.

But linguistic norms are always changing. Look no further than the word “sucks,” which emerged in the 1970s as an offensive word referring to a sex act. But now it is common parlance on television news and entertainment. The worm has turned — or evolved.  

But the emergence today of a cruder brand of public discourse is different — and worrisome. Don’t get me wrong. I am not a prude and regularly pepper my talking with carefully chosen swear words. (I grew up in a household where “damn it” was the only profanity heard.) And, second, curse words of all sorts, even those said in anger or for political purpose — they are all absolutely protected by the First Amendment.

Obscenity is still not legally protected, at least technically, but it is defined as some photograph or video that crosses over a tough-to-define sexual boundary. But words — curse words, swear words, “dirty” words, — have complete free speech protection.

In narrow ways speech that is labeled “indecent” can be blocked in the shrinking spaces of the public airwaves. So-called “dirty words” can still get broadcasters fined. Between 1990 and 2004, the FCC fined Howard Stern’s radio program $2.5 million, the highest amount ever. But that is rare. And the public airwaves stations that carried Frey’s comments, likely were exempt because “fleeting expletives” do not get punished.

The Minneapolis mayor rebutted those who were “offended” by his explicit language, telling them, “I’m sorry I offended their delicate ears.” Frey argued that ICE killing a citizen is the “inflammatory element here, not the F-bomb,” adding, “I’m sure we’ve all heard [the word] before.”

Cursing is protected language — but is it civil?

And, on that, he is correct. The words are all over the place. This month, Brian Cashman, the General Manager of the New York Yankees, was upset that reporters keep saying that he orders the Yankees manager which lineup to use.

"It irritates the f--- out of me. Because it's so stupid, it's so false,” he said.

Ear plugs needed for young Yankees fans.

I recently blushed watching “South Park,” which once broadcast an episode entitled, “It Hits the Fan,” using the word sh-t 162 times, once every eight seconds. But the Comedy Channel is cable TV. Cable channels are considered private — and the cursing gloves are off.

For a moment I thought that today’s language choices are not really so different. In 1934, Cole Porter penned the lyrics to “Anything Goes.”

“Good authors who once knew better words, now only use four-letter words, writing prose, anything goes,” he wrote.

Nah, never mind, it is different. Bitter anger accompanies the language today. And it is, pretty much, nonpartisan. On Feb. 23, Democratic strategist James Carville let loose with a barrage of foul words to describe the president after his State of the Union speech, calling him a "son of a b-tch" and a "fat, sorry sack of sh-t."

The gates coming off the language barriers is being propelled by a society increasingly and quickly losing its sense of order, along with reasonable and polite public discourse. I don’t want to blame all of that on the man at the top, but when masked federal agents round up some of our hard working neighbors — one can only think cursing is the least of our problems. And it speaks to a shifting mood in a country divided by anger and hatred. And fueled by curse words.

Undoubtedly media and technology are playing a significant role in the loss of boundaries. The words we might share with a friend on the street, sometimes filled with lots of curses, are now the words that we will “tweet” or post online in a public space.

There are few legal regulations, nor should there be. But, at least in part, free speech was meant to provoke civility, to provide a public sphere where we could disagree with each other and express our differences, and no one could block or censor us. And maybe, just maybe, a debate would lead to understanding — not a civil war.

It was also meant to be like a steam valve on a boiler. Instead of turning to violence and blowing things up, we could always let out our fury in peaceable assembly with words.

But now, too often, the debate has turned into a Wild West shooting match, with uncivil language coming front and center, from both sides, dividing us further. Neither the president nor the mayor of Minneapolis do us any favors cursing at us. It only makes us poorer, meaner and cruder. Censorship won’t work; leadership might.

Rob Miraldi’s First Amendment writing has won numerous awards. He taught journalism at the State University of New York for many years. Email: rob.miraldi@gmail.com    

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