Recently, a young Austrian man was fined for farting in the general direction of a police officer approaching him and his friends in a park for an identity check. In court, the man tried to argue that this fine is ridiculous because his flatulence should be protected under his freedom of expression. The presiding judge determined that this is incorrect because farts don’t contain “communicative content.”
That’s asinine. That ruling really, really stinks. Here’s my rebuttal.
A single fart contains loads of information. Consider, if you will, the act of passing gas around another human being, and what the decision to let it rip can tell us about the farter’s opinion of those around him and his role within that group. Many of us will rip ass in front of others in an attempt to be humorous or to provoke a reaction. Some only fart in front of people they’re comfortable with. Others may unleash the butt trumpet to communicate their disdain, which is clearly what our Austrian friend was going for: this identity check is absurd, sir, and I have zero respect for what you’re doing to me right now, so please have a whiff of my ass.
And then we must consider the tone of the emission. A quick little toot could imply hesitation or a desire to hide the act. An extended ripple could signify ultimate comfort with one’s flatulence or perhaps the intention to display the strength and endurance of one’s rectal walls, perhaps in an attempt to assert dominance or attract a mate.
Aroma, likewise, should not be dismissed as devoid of information. This freedom-loving Austrian clearly did not care if the approaching officers knew about his diet. What if they caught a strong whiff of the most magical of all fruit, the lovable bean, and used that information to rough him up in the parking lot during his next trip to the local Taco Bell? Could an intrepid gumshoe with an attentive nose recognize the scent of this man’s bung blast from a prior crime scene and finally solve a case that had been haunting his dreams for years? Is there cabbage involved? Stench, all on its own, is a veritable library of the experiences attached to each and every one of our cornholes.
Lest we forget, each time we choose to exercise the meat nozzle we are taking on significant risk. Will we produce a gas or a solid? One never truly knows until after the sphincter siren has completed its work. By choosing to steam press his Levi’s in a crowd, this man displayed the utmost confidence. Perhaps he’s secure in the working of his bowels. Perhaps he’s just a dashing rogue, willing to fill his pants if it means sticking it to the man for just a moment. Either way, his bravery is to be lauded.
And so, dear judge, it is with the utmost respect that I must refute your ruling and insist that all flatulence be protected as important expressions unassailable by the law. To do otherwise – to continue cutting your own cheese while condemning this man for carving up his own gouda – would be the height of hypocrisy.