Allegedly, a whole bunch of things give it to you. Potatoes, beans, raw bananas, lentils to name but a few. Sometimes not eating anything also results in the same fate. Old people get it, so do young ones. Even tiny toddlers barely out of the womb are not immune to it. That's right, I'm talking about wind. Not the kind that blows in one's backyard, but the kind that comes out of one's backside. Yep, the humble, taboo fart.
Everyone has to pass wind every now and then, yet no one would stand up and say they let one loose when the immediate area surrounding the gathering gets smothered in toxic gases. It's a natural body function, yet we cannot talk about it, just like the one who cannot be named in Harry Potter movies. Everyone knows he exists, but refuse to acknowledge it in the vain hope that not acknowledging his presence somehow makes him go away. According to women's magazines and movies, men are comfortable letting a few rip when in the midst of other men and women do not talk of such dirty things. However, I have not met such men and thankfully have not been in the midst of a demonstration.
Before you all wiggle your noses and head for the close button on the browser, let me assure you, I have no intention of analysing or discussing the nuances of different varieties of wind. I'd like to think I am above such frivolities.
As part of my random reads, I came across this link from a friend on Facebook. I really pity the people of Malawi. They are all going to have to develop a whole new gas free diet. However, more than the people of Malawi, do you know who I pity more? The policemen and women of the country. Not only are they going to have to go after hard hitting criminals, they're going to have to book petty farts as well. Literally.
As I think about the d(r)aft proposal by the Hon. George Fartless Chaponda, a number of visions are popping up in my head:
Scenario #1:
Everyone has to pass wind every now and then, yet no one would stand up and say they let one loose when the immediate area surrounding the gathering gets smothered in toxic gases. It's a natural body function, yet we cannot talk about it, just like the one who cannot be named in Harry Potter movies. Everyone knows he exists, but refuse to acknowledge it in the vain hope that not acknowledging his presence somehow makes him go away. According to women's magazines and movies, men are comfortable letting a few rip when in the midst of other men and women do not talk of such dirty things. However, I have not met such men and thankfully have not been in the midst of a demonstration.
Before you all wiggle your noses and head for the close button on the browser, let me assure you, I have no intention of analysing or discussing the nuances of different varieties of wind. I'd like to think I am above such frivolities.
As part of my random reads, I came across this link from a friend on Facebook. I really pity the people of Malawi. They are all going to have to develop a whole new gas free diet. However, more than the people of Malawi, do you know who I pity more? The policemen and women of the country. Not only are they going to have to go after hard hitting criminals, they're going to have to book petty farts as well. Literally.
As I think about the d(r)aft proposal by the Hon. George Fartless Chaponda, a number of visions are popping up in my head:
Picture a busy market place. People bustling about. Window shopping, actual shopping, shop lifting, shop keeping and the like. Constable DC is going about on his beat. DC is a vigilant man, and he knows the law like the back of his hand. He hears a noise. It's unmistakeable. Someone had just broken the law. No alarms going off, no guns in sight, not a single person violated. However, the law is broken. DC jumps into action.
He uses his astute skills of observation and directional hearing to isolate the direction in which the noise came from. He quickly swirls to his right and notices 25 people within 5 feet of him (the market is bustling after all). He is confident the decibel level and frequency of the noise mean it cannot have been further than 5 feet away. What should be do now? DC lines all 25 of them up. After some quick thinking, DC decides his first approach had better be direct questioning and asks, "Alright, I know there was wind passed by one of you lot. You know who you are and you better 'fess up or else...", he finishes with a threat. One dramatic pause later, he is none the wiser, not one soul speaks up. He looks at their faces and realises he's dealing with a serial farter here. Any other person would have broken into a sweat by now.
All 25 of them are cool as a whistle. 24 of them because they have nothing to worry about and 1 is really good at breaking the law. The next approach in the book issued to all policemen and women, 'the police guide to catching farters' comes to DC's mind. He starts questing suspects one by one. DC has been extensively trained in the matter at the special summer course they had over 3 days in the beach resort of Dickbey (a fine resort, thinks DC as he remembers the 3 days spent in luxury at the training resort). He asks each of them what they have eaten since 5am the previous morning, after all, what goes in, comes out. By the process of elimination, he is confident he has reduced the number of suspects from 25 to 10.
The next process is the 'tummy tap'. A gaseous tummy has a distinctive tap. This further reduces the number of suspects to 2. DC looks long and hard at the two of them. One of them starts showing the strain of hiding illegality and blurts out, "OK! It was me!" DC is a happy man, he's got his criminal and issues the penalty notice. Justice has been served. A thousand guilty can go free, but one innocent man shall not be punished. Never mind the 3 shops that got looted while DC was interrogating the suspects. A happy DC returns to his beat and prrrrrrt. "Here we go again!" says DC with a sigh and lines up suspects.
Scenario #2:
A council meeting is taking place. A fierce debate is raging around the level of state subsidy to be given to universities. Members of the public are watching from the viewing gallery. The fate of the city hangs in balance, it is, after all this city is famous for its educational institutions. Suddenly the lawmakers are silenced by the foul smell wafting down from the viewing area. The police are summoned to the scene of the crime. No noise was heard by anyone in the vicinity. This was a 'silent' one. All usual techniques of interrogation prove fruitless and not one person comes forward with a confession. The councillors decide that it is time for an emergency session. Trivial things like education can be left behind and they jump right into a discussion on how to deal with silent farts. 12 hours later, a resolution is passed. In the event a silent fart perpetrator does not confess to the crime, the entire gathering in the vicinity of ground zero will be penalised.
Scenario #3:
One of the suggestions Mr. Chaponda gives is to go use the restroom to fart. Queues outside restrooms in the highstreet become quite long with people waiting to get into the restroom. Things are getting quite impatient with people anxious to relieve themselves. Meanwhile, at the entrance to the restroom, an enterprising young man has set up a stall, charging an atrocious amount for a pair of ear and nose plugs. People going in snap them up like nobody's business, it is wild in there after all...
Scenario #4:
In other news, police are now being issued with air quality meters, after new research finds that the air quality around a fart perpetrator's backside contains lingering effects of the offending gasses, this sensor picks this up, thereby allowing police to easily convict perpetrators of this heinous crime. Police are now following people around town sticking the sensor on their backsides in order to comply with the law.
Interesting times...!
