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Updated Saturday, February 6, 2010
#60 |
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“An island of ignorance in a sea of stupidity.” |
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The function takes many names. Dropping a bomb, cutting the cheese, ripping one, breaking wind, sounding off, passing gas, butt barking, tooting, pooting... and, of course, farting. Flatulence is really a floating contradiction for most people. Everyone does it at one time or another, it may bring relief, induce laughter, and it can be a source of pride. At the same time it can cause nausea, discomfort, embarrassment, or exile. From the time we are very young, we tend to find humor in flatulence, as our parents or siblings giggle after a bought of tooting, a "glub-blub-blub-bloop" in the bath tub, or after a powerful blast launched with impeccable timing. For many children, the sound of flatulence is one of the first noises they are able emulate with their mouth (AKA a raspberry) which also tends to bring smiles to the faces of adults. We laugh at the dog who wakes itself up with its own rear, or at the smell of a horse with indigestion. All these lessons are perfectly acceptable ones for a child to learn, after all, intestinal gas and the sound of its release are completely natural and totally hilarious. Unfortunately, we begin to send mixed messages just as our children are really catching on to the art of fart. Say "excuse me". Don't do that at the dinner table. That was really loud. Not on your brother. Not on my lap. Don't lift your leg... All meant to shield our children from the embarrassment brought on by tooting in public. Should this really be an embarrassment? After all it is the natural way of things, necessary to keep us healthy and comfortable. So why the all the schizophrenia when it comes to flatulence? I suppose the history of the fart is pretty simple: Prehistoric humans discovered that they could eat broccoli. Later that day, one of them farted and the rest of them laughed. Since then, the fart has provided countless hours of free entertainment for every subsequent generation of human beings. Pull my finger. Did you see that duck fly by? That one's gonna leave a mark. Fun and mischief that are a direct product of the sheer pleasure and pride that are synonymous with dropping a loud, putrid, and well timed bomb. With all this bliss, relief, laughter, and general hilarity you would think that flatulence would be praised and revered by all... but no. I suppose this is one subject in which the "double standard" rears its ugly head. Men seem to gain much more enjoyment and satisfaction from the same gas that their female counterparts profess to find disgusting. I know the ladies are capable of the same levels of odor, volume, and duration by which a man fart is measured, but they seem to avoid the revelry that comes with it. Some of the very best broken wind I have every had the pleasure of hearing, smelling, or feeling as it rocks the earth have come from a woman. Flatulence is an equal opportunity deployer, and I believe that women should take full advantage of that fact. The main adversary of fart liberation appears to be public places, and most of all, the work place. We spend plenty of time ignoring or enjoying our own gaseous discharges when no one is there to help validate that joy or indifference, but when faced with an audience, the joy quickly flips to shame. I personally have never understood this hypocritical view. People will smell or hear a fart and react with complete disgust, no tolerance, and even make a scene. Have they never attempted to pass gas with discretion unsuccessfully? Humans have a lot of control over this function, but not always complete control. It can be lost with a sneeze, a cough, while running or jumping, or even with the size or shape of a chair. People fart in public and that is a fact. You may catch a whiff as you sit down in a well-padded, communal office chair, get a blast of sulfery air from an unknown source, or simply hear a squeaker emanating from the next cube. People clear their throat or ruffle papers to cover the noise; or they may "crop dust" which is the act of briskly walking about the office while breaking wind- The purpose being wide disbursement so that the toot's origin can not be triangulated. All of this secrecy has never made much sense to me, as I have always found the humor in a good blast. Case in point; You will never hear someone say, "My day was completely ruined because someone at work farted and I heard/smelled it." In most cases it is quite the opposite, and the story will be told numerous times with rave reviews... Especially if timing, volume, and odor are top notch. Conversely, I'm sure it is not uncommon for someone to say, "I farted at work and my day was completely ruined because someone heard/smelled it." Well I, for one, have had enough. The hour is upon us to let go of our baseless embarrassment and this senseless emission oppression. I believe it is high-time to cherish and embrace the gases created during the digestive process. So, the next time you feel one coming on while you are in a public setting... Stand up. Lift your leg. Go for the best volume and duration possible. When it is done, and after the red has gone out of your face, turn to the people who heard it, and look them right in the eye. Don't say "Excuse me" or "Oh, I apologize", as it is time to stop suppressing the reality and primal comedy of the situation. Hold your head high, and simply say, "You're welcome." |
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Could You Please Pass the Gas?
By Stinkweed Pete |
