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Catriona Madill
Words for flatulence: fart, flatulence, cut the cheese,
gas, toots, deadly vapors, foul odors, the pressure deep within,
depth charges, cheek slapper or smacker, silent but deadly, squeeler,
depth charge, firing off the ole sounder, barking spiders
Etymology from Miriam-Webster’s online dictionary:
flatulence: the quality or state of being flatulent (1711)
flatulent: middle french, from the Latin flatus act of blowing,
wind from flare to blow (1599) 1a: maked by or affected with gas
generated in the intestine or stomach.
fart: middle English ferten, farten; akin to Old High German ferzan
to break wind, Old Norse, freta, Greek perdesthai, Sanskrit pardate
he breaks wind (13th century) often vulgar
gas: a gaseous product of digestion, also: discomfort from this
gas. New Latin, alteration of Latin chaos space (1779)
Somewhere, there are statistics on how many
times we fart each day. And it’s a lot. Yet many of us spend
much of our days, and even nights, in places that are not amenable
for a relaxed releasing of gas. Because of this cruel injustice,
I have been forced to find favorite places for the discreet release
of pressure.
There are a few general rules of thumb. Stinky farts are best released
in a place of high airflow and/or a large open space, ideally a
beach with crashing waves and brisk wind. Other helpful locations
include outside on a ferry, near a paper mill or fragrant dairy,
or near any major construction. Unfortunately, this cannot always
be arranged. Sometimes a fan by an open window or a rapid walk is
a more realistic solution.
Because I travel by bus, the easiest and often most convenient times
are along the bus mall, where a multitude of buses are all attempting
to move through downtown. Each one is making far more noise than
the worst fart imaginable, vibrating and stinking up the street
enough to overpower most odors. Short of a trash compaction plant,
the bus mall is the ideal public place for farting.
There is a bit of an art to timing a noisy release with the passing
of a particular bus. Not all buses are equally blessed with a noisy
stop and departure – they must be carefully gauged for degree
of noisiness as well as when exactly they will loudly lurch to and
from the bus stop. Internal awareness is also critical – when
to begin the steady pressure to cause a timed purging of the inner
regions and when to quickly start gathering all of muscles inward.
I recently concluded that the distracted, almost pained looks of
all of the office workers gathered on the bus mall after work are
not only due to their difficult days, but also to the relief of
finally being able to purge all of their pent up gas after a long
day in shared quarters.
I also enjoy the sensation of a noisy, high vibration fart in the
close quarters of an airplane, and certainly from the plague of
evil odors that I have endured in multiple plane rides this is a
shared pleasure. The high numbers of plane passengers ensure it
will be difficult to pin the stinky fart on anyone and that many
others will suffer along with your gastric distress. There tend
to be a multitude of small children blame, all of whom seem perfectly
capable of launching an incredibly awful gut bomb. Choosing to fart
can be, however, a dangerous and uncomfortable gamble depending
on the stink factor and degree of ventilation. It sucks to sit in
your own stinky morass for 45 minutes, with knowledge that few others
are sharing your pain.
Perhaps elevators are both the best and worst case for a sudden
onset of inner pressure rebalancing. Nothing is less uncomfortable
than a long ride with only one other person right after farting.
They know they are still holding their flatulence in, and you are
the only one to blame. Multiple people, assuming the noise was not
to loud, allows for disturbed, accusing looks at some innocent.
The ultimate, of course, is letting a big stinky one loose right
before stepping off the elevator and leaving an empty, but putrid,
small enclosed space for the next riders.
Automobiles share certain advantages with elevators, except it is
normally harder to get out of a car than an elevator. But at least
you can generally roll down the windows. The smell can be mild enough
that the car vibrations, noise, and high airflow can provide relief,
causing only mild wrinkling of the nose. Skunks can also be blamed
in times of need, or any other stinky roadside attraction. In situations
where fart culprit is obvious, the rest of the car ride can be awkward,
uncomfortable, or sheer torment depending on who is sitting in that
vehicle. The fellow rider(s) may be sufficiently well-mannered to
ignore the farter, or they may bedevil the farter for many, many
years. Unfortunately, in my family a culprit is always found and
ridiculed despite the strong likelihood that the accuser will soon
be the accused. And we don’t worry too much about accusing
the momentarily innocent.
The ultimate, and most wonderful, retaliation is a silent fart that
serves as a catalyst for upping the stink quotient into the next
level, particularly if someone has just ‘fessed up to the
fart. This is only achievable on rare and memorable days, and should
be celebrated accordingly. Of course, the whole scheme can backfire,
and you can end up responsible for all odors.
My own reoccurring flatulence waterloo involves athletic activities.
They are particularly prone for inadvertent toots – the body
is being worked hard and there is little extra energy for clenching
the internal muscles to keep all that gas inside. Furthermore, I
find many physical activities are helping the gas move on through
and then out. Boisterous team events usually provide high air circulation,
some noise cover, and other people to blame. Other activities, like
quiet yoga or tai chi classes, leave one more exposed. This can
be painful, since some of these activities particularly promote
the inner movement of gas. There is something undignified, even
if it increasing my spiritual growth and healing my physical wounds,
about holding an intense and graceful yoga pose, only to have my
inner poise disturbed by the flatulence dilemma.
Do I hold it in and avoid humiliation, do I slowly release the evil
fumes to have them sink downward into a puddle around my head and
my neighbors, or do I simply let ‘er rip assuming that my
classmates are all enlightened and understand the need to listen
to my body’s needs? I generally wimp out, and take the second
option. Air circulation is limited, leaving a dark, dense fog (fug?)
of evil odors lurking around my body, but I always try to make some
extra airflow by flapping my arms about as I change to the next
position.
My body is quite fond of a sharp, high pitched fart release when
I am laughing, sneezing, or coughing. I can never quite tell if
it was only noticeable to me because I could feel it, or if everyone
is politely perturbed by my odd coughing noises. Frequently, I’ll
apologize, but without any specificity about what I’m apologizing
for. From the responses, I’m still not sure how audible my
little gaffes are. Sometimes people look at me in a concerned fashion,
but I can’t tell if it’s because of my squeaky little
emission or because I just apologized for no apparent reason.
I also have the oddest urge, similar to opening my mouth when I
am putting in my eye contacts, to shift my weight onto one butt
cheek when releasing a fart. I’ve noticed a few others doing
this as well, but I can’t imagine it actually assists with
the release. I’ve certainly fired them off deep inside a couch
as well, so it can’t be essential to lift a cheek upon dismount.
But it’s hard to come up with a decent explanation when, during
an elegant dinner party, I suddenly raise up my right butt cheek.
A new yoga pose?
I’ve met several people with a unique approach to gas buildup.
In fact, I’m related to them. Stairs, not immediately obvious
to me as a release point, are used to vent off a bit of pressure.
With each step (up or down), a small fart is released. Although
I imagine the sound of the foot hitting the stair could be used
to mask the sound of the fart, I have only been too aware of the
sounds of gas release. Following someone down the stairs in this
situation is merely a bit perturbing, but following someone up the
stairs who is practicing the “step release” is an immediate
inducement to walk far, far behind them. Which might be the point,
as I’ve never screwed up the courage to inquire as to the
appeal.
These tactics point to a new approach to flatulence. Public farting
without worrying about its impact on others. A part of me would
like to be so free, but at least the odor seems to require a bit
of sensitivity to others. I have met a few people who let it all
hang out. Sometimes physical ailments force this situation, but
I have been most impressed by older friends who have taken flatulence
as their prerogative. Surely after so many years of holding it in,
they deserve some relief. I also wonder if, as their hearing fades,
they are hoping their farts are not audible. Or perhaps social discomfort
is simply becoming less. Myself, I am looking forward to the freedom.
I intend to enjoy my flatulence as much as possible starting today,
and to the utmost in my golden years. I encourage you to do the
same.
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