Back in the day if you farted in class you were the object of ridicule and teasing, possibly throughout your entire secondary school tenure. You were given a nickname like Stinky or Smelly or Fartboy that stuck and you wore it or faced the even worse fate of complete and total shunning and ostracism. Popular culture bears this out as in the Chorus Line character who laments the one little fart that squeaked out.
Things are different now. The boy who sits next to my daughter in class is a notorious public farter, a definite class clown and in no way an unpopular kid. The Nickelodeon Kids Choice Awards, an abomination my wife and I tolerate for the sake of household harmony, has gone from merely having an award for the best on screen farting to having hosts and/or presenters, as reported by my daughter, actually fart live on the show.
I don’t pretend to know whether all this is a good thing, a bad thing, or just one of those things. I have always enjoyed a good fart now and again, but it is something, like certain jokes, that is kept among friends and family. And I suppose that very fact of this thread is indicative of the problem, if there is, in fact, a problem at all.
So with that in mind, and to encourage further discourse I offer this recent runner up for a Bulwer-Lytton Award:
“Throckmorton, a scientist to the core, knew that if he broke wind in the echo chamber, he’d never hear the end of it.”
Right, I should give thanks to Checkernuts for the inspiration to start this thread although I suspect it is much more than he would have bargained for, though perhaps no less than he’d expect from me.