Monday, 29 September 2008


Scene: man walks outside into the dark, breaks wind, notices another person outside, inclines head in courteous apology: "We are infernal gas machines. We hold it in, due to the strictures of our social conventions, and make our excuses, walk outside, and find a place to let it out. Then we find that we still, even then, have an audience, and our efforts have been nullified, so divert ourselves with an exquisite disquisition on the act of flatulence. We can look at the stars and comprehend their meaninglessness, and yet be compelled by the concrete reality of a fart."

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