The Fart of War
or "Piece on Earth"
Predator Press
[LOBO]
Operating on the theory that you can get Christmas-related posts virtually anywhere, we here at Predator Press have decided to briefly defy convention, continuing with the world-renown medical science millions and millions of readers have come to expect.
Yes, we're going to talk about farts.
Again.
Few associate Christmas with farting. In fact, farting is really more of a Thanksgiving thing I suppose -the phrase "Black Friday" is no accident. But I contend that after Thanksgiving, a whole month of leftovers, questionable company dinners, and experimental baking, we have created an entire society of unsung "gastronomical daredevils"; this under-appreciated methane-fueled event is currently at an apex unprecedented in the -dare I say- annals of human history.
In the many years I have known my beloved wife, I have never known her to fart. Not once! This distresses me immensely; I suspect that once she hits critical mass, she sneaks out with the car in the middle of the night and screams out to some obscure cornfield on the outskirts of town, blasting a crop circle into the otherwise orderly and unsuspecting topography.
This must be the case, right? Like it or not, everybody has to fart -and the more restraint you exercise, the worse the occurrence; forcing those things to percolate unnaturally is dangerous, and one could spontaneously explode in a big stinky bang that craters and kills everything biological for several miles, with the equivalent force of six Rosie O'Donnells at the Ponderosa salad bar. Sure I've got "Flight of the Bumblebee" in the chamber ... but are those arctic scuba divers, chipping out their now-frozen bubbles of mirth and mischief, Fed-Exing the joy abroad for no reason whatsoever?
Farting cannot -and should not- be regulated for any reason, and some of the oldest cultures on Earth still revere this fact. Muslims, for instance, don't eat burritos; if all Muslims broke wind simultaneously while facing Mecca during prayer, over the years it would gradually decelerate the Earth's rotation, causing environmental chaos!
As Americans, we are a wisely fart-tolerant, fart-friendly, fart-encouraging society, and the fart is imprinted solidly into our national olfaction -steeped deeply in tradition and heritage. Indeed, Supreme Court Chief Justice John G. Roberts has been quoted to say "When we see Sonia Sotomayor's robes a-flappin' in the wind, we immediately pull the fire alarm and engage in a orderly and well-practiced evacuation of the chambers."
Predator Press
[LOBO]
Operating on the theory that you can get Christmas-related posts virtually anywhere, we here at Predator Press have decided to briefly defy convention, continuing with the world-renown medical science millions and millions of readers have come to expect.
Yes, we're going to talk about farts.
Again.
Few associate Christmas with farting. In fact, farting is really more of a Thanksgiving thing I suppose -the phrase "Black Friday" is no accident. But I contend that after Thanksgiving, a whole month of leftovers, questionable company dinners, and experimental baking, we have created an entire society of unsung "gastronomical daredevils"; this under-appreciated methane-fueled event is currently at an apex unprecedented in the -dare I say- annals of human history.
In the many years I have known my beloved wife, I have never known her to fart. Not once! This distresses me immensely; I suspect that once she hits critical mass, she sneaks out with the car in the middle of the night and screams out to some obscure cornfield on the outskirts of town, blasting a crop circle into the otherwise orderly and unsuspecting topography.
This must be the case, right? Like it or not, everybody has to fart -and the more restraint you exercise, the worse the occurrence; forcing those things to percolate unnaturally is dangerous, and one could spontaneously explode in a big stinky bang that craters and kills everything biological for several miles, with the equivalent force of six Rosie O'Donnells at the Ponderosa salad bar. Sure I've got "Flight of the Bumblebee" in the chamber ... but are those arctic scuba divers, chipping out their now-frozen bubbles of mirth and mischief, Fed-Exing the joy abroad for no reason whatsoever?
Farting cannot -and should not- be regulated for any reason, and some of the oldest cultures on Earth still revere this fact. Muslims, for instance, don't eat burritos; if all Muslims broke wind simultaneously while facing Mecca during prayer, over the years it would gradually decelerate the Earth's rotation, causing environmental chaos!
As Americans, we are a wisely fart-tolerant, fart-friendly, fart-encouraging society, and the fart is imprinted solidly into our national olfaction -steeped deeply in tradition and heritage. Indeed, Supreme Court Chief Justice John G. Roberts has been quoted to say "When we see Sonia Sotomayor's robes a-flappin' in the wind, we immediately pull the fire alarm and engage in a orderly and well-practiced evacuation of the chambers."
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