Is Farting at Your Loved One, the Highest Form of Intimacy?

Royal Bedroom in Residenz Palace, Munich, Bavaria

Does your bedroom sound like the percussion section of the Boston Pops in the morning? Does the faint aroma of the gastrointestinal tract’s processing of the previous evening’s meal fill the air with dramatic little touches that emanate from your duet? Do you and your significant other get woken up by each other’s farts before the alarm clock has a chance to ring? Have you built up so much trust that you feel free to fart on each other’s legs? Do you begin to experience the symphonic effects of gastric juices and gaseous effluence? Does your bedroom sometimes remind you of the antiphonal chorus of a Gregorian chant as your soul mate’s emissions call out like the honking of seagulls by the shore? Is there something primal about the preverbal communication that goes on between old couples who fart freely at each other, like pigeons tweeting as they chase after bed crumbs? Do the gases and odors create a special warmth under the covers that promotes ecstatic levels of spooning and cuddling that in turn make the final act of waking up, getting out of bed and stepping into the frigid morning air all that more difficult? Think of great lovers of opera and theater. Did Shakespeare ever consider Romeo and Juliet  getting to feel comfortable enough to fart in front of each other? And what about Wagner’s Tristan and Isolde? Was Goethe’s Young Werther suffering all the more because he was trying to stop himself from farting in front of his beloved? What about Eurydice? Was the real reason she went back to the underworld that Orpheus didn’t turn around but continued on, farting in her face?