B5150
Legend
- Awards
- 3
The Dog Shit That Complained About Stink
Once upon a time there was a steaming pile of particularly malodorous dog shit. This awesomely fetid excreta attracted a stunning degree of olfactory attention, not because of its own noxious stench but for its strident complaint about an alleged other bad smell.
Now, one might expect that the most insensitive of noses would yet immediately detect a distinct whiff of irony, at the very least, given the author of the faultfinding discharge. But that would be presumptuous. For, indeed, such thinking betrays a failure to comprehend the seductive charm inherent to sheer monumental audacity. Noses are routinely gulled by the incense of righteous sanctimony. It serves as a potent aromatic balm that invariably overwhelms the scent of pathological hypocrisy, so that pontificating excrement may thereby conveniently excuse itself from suffering the standards of measure by which it insists others must be judged. Moreover, some noses display a capacity to become so complacently accustomed to familiar bad smells that a certain perverse comfort seems actually to be derived therefrom.
It is a common and beloved misconception that an accused offender enjoys the presumption of innocence in advance of proper nasal inquiry into allegations of inhalatory grievance, and especially in the absence of any corroborating evidence. But the portent of scandalous odors more commonly causes great hyperventilating excitement among noses. And, all the more among the most assertively keen snouts, nostrils flare accordingly at the prospect of scenting heretofore undetected sulfurous wind. The foul aroma, by which the conspicuous dog shit claimed to be so horribly offended, was purported to be the effluvia emitted by a source which had never before passed nasty air. And so it was that the dog shit's allegations quite excited the professional sniffers, the noses of official record.
The smelly turd, distinguished as it was by its own putrid essence, fumed incontinently, great accusatory gusts about said other supposed stink. And its scurrilous ad hominem derogation - so perfectly in keeping with its immutable nature - was further imbued with great emphasis by a diarrhea of the most repulsive sarcasms and sneering tones of voice incorporated into the already fulsome delivery of deprecatory vituperation. Not that the shit produced any genuinely substantive foundation for its denunciations, as it relied exclusively on totally unfounded fantasy conjecture, non sequitur leaps of preconceived judgment, and the dishonestly selective application (and oft times outright distortion) of dictionary meaning, to misrepresent the character of the scent in question. (It is not for nothing that dog shit has secured its universally acknowledged reputation.)
The professional noses breathed deeply, but then forthwith turned their critical olfactory attention towards the target of the dog shit's disparagement, away from the profoundly self-evident smell of the accuser and in the direction instead which yielded no impolite breeze. Notwithstanding the total inability of the accusing fetor simply to identify, precisely, the exact nature of the odorous offense it had so vaguely surmised, let alone to authenticate any particular incident of ostensible unpleasant discharge, the pro snoots - self-appointed arbiters of virtuous smell - began their own frenzied sniffing about, in what they soon commonly identified as "suspicious air."
While effectively rewarding the acrid dog shit with the benefit of presumed savory fragrance, the noses unduly discredited the subject of their scenting focus, which they described as possessing the character of an ill-defined "suspect" aroma. The fact that there was no valid evidenciary basis whatsoever, to support the purely hypothetical condemnatory contention, was plainly an irrelevant consideration. Once professional snouts are titillated by the slightest suggestion of newly-minted piquant zephyr, they are henceforth loathe to admit no bad air exists. No prize emolument is ever bestowed for not smelling foulness, for there is no salient excitement to an absence of putressence.
The characterization of "suspiciousness" was affixed, by the proboscis cognoscenti, for no better reason (which they would, of course, never willingly admit) than that they all desperately wanted a bad smell, a new one the discovery for which they could then flatter themselves with celebrity. Though cavalier to the point of complete nonchalance about putrid odors typically wafting from all the expected places, jaded professional sniffers reserve attentive arousal exclusively for the novelty of virgin offensiveness. Yet their capacity for obsession, manifest at the merest hint of untoward new aromas, knows no bounds. Pro noses often need no proof of arriviste stink beyond their own lust for exulting in fresh ordure.
Conventional nose wisdom automatically assumed the vilified spoor to be tainted, though said convention repeatedly failed - rather brazenly, just like the dog shit - to specify the precise nature, or to narrowly identify a given instance, of the alleged malodor, let alone actually detect certain proof positive of particular stink. Shifting the evidenciary burden to the accused, the noses demanded from the stigmatized recipient of the dog shit's exudations one of two things: 1) a confession - that it had in fact produced some heretofore unidentified mysterious bad odor, which so nefariously still escaped their keen olfactory vigilance - or 2) a proof, in terms of negative absolutes, demonstrating naught but totally innocent springtime fragrance, established to a certainty beyond all doubt that might attend even the most disingenuous or paranoid conjecture.
In the solitary aromatic mise-en-scène, considered by the noses, it was a foregone conclusion that some villainous smell was perforce being covered up. Having convinced themselves that a diabolical air freshening technique had been employed, so as to duplicitously deodorize the theoretical redolence, the noses reveled unsated in their prurient pursuit of phantom ill wind.
So enthused were the snoots in their sniffing about, many predicted imminent detection of the unspecified alleged offensiveness, even as they remained terminally vague in describing the specifics of their accusatory guesswork. The character of "suspiciousness," despite no intellectually credible foundation ever being offered to justify the misgivings which govern suspicion, was then further defined as if it were a quality of ultimate negative conclusion. In this case, the accused was described not by what smell was in fact discernible, but rather by speculative association to what smell might be detected were the accused to be caught, fragrant delecto, committing the hypothesized stink. The depiction was fashioned in the way that the scent of a typical camellia might be portrayed, with absolute certitude, as an aromatic equivalent to the fetid stench of vomit or skunk spray, the obvious proof of which may be readily discerned in the insidious character of masking fragrance employed to conceal the true malodor. In other words, a bad smell is evident even when it is not evident precisely because no evidence of offense constitutes proof positive of offense. Thus the circular reasoning and semantic tortures conjured by the noses betrayed their own rank smell of diaper pails and raw sewage.
But, of course, the noses were motivated not by any useful edified interest in establishing the truth or falsity of the dog shit's claims. Indeed, the accusant dung heap was unfailingly spared the least burden of proof. The noses were impelled rather by their intrinsic function of aggressive sniffing, and the attending desire to achieve fame, fortune and glory for the discovery of a heretofore unwhiffed bad smell. Plus they were, after awhile perhaps in this instance, guided a bit by the fear of failing altogether to actually discern said hypothetical rank odors, once they had virtually promised the whole world such would indubitably be detected.
Like any addict who lives for a fix, the royal schnozzles were invigorated by the simple process of inhalation, narrowly constrained to securing a snootful of some new-made repugnant essence. To be sure, the pertinent corollary ramifications of any given bad odor remained, in general, quite beyond nasal curiosity.
It may well be plausibly argued that the substance in olfactory question had no compellingly attractive aroma. Still, no specifically bad or even mildly disconcerting fumes, with which the accused had any bona fide associative culpability, were ever remotely established, by any honest judge of smell, to have ever been produced. But that certainly didn't inhibit the dog shit from further befouling the atmosphere. Nor did it in the least deter the professional schnozolas' collective nostrils from inquisitorial aspiration.
Never mind that it was dog shit that instigated the fury of hyperventilation. The self-evident nauseating rankness exuded by the fecal matter was paid no heed whatever while the pro noseholes sniffed otherwise about to discover the holy grail stink of their fondest dreams.
Every rare - exceedingly rare - once in awhile, a nose would perfunctorily concede that no discernibly offensive odor, from the source accused by the dog shit, had yet been ascertained. Even so, having preconceived a judgment of bad smell before certifying any particular fact of offensive emanation, the noses of record remained resolute in their aggressive sniffing, even as they never troubled themselves to recognize the blatant stench produced right under their besotted nostrils in the first place.
The snoots, which toiled so earnestly in their foul odor quest, managed to simply ignore the one overwhelmingly obvious stink completely, while nosing around elsewhere in their speculative lust. Their sniffing became so grotesquely perverse that the mere nonpresence of perfect ambrosial delectation, attending the featured object of their nasal scrutiny, became quite literally a synonym for the discharge of rotten smell.
All of this thrilled the dog shit, as one might well imagine. It kept on venting its olid stench. And the professional noses kept ardently inhaling, the smell to which they had grown so comfortably accustomed. And then they routinely directed their scent-hunt somewhere else yet again in pursuit of the never-certified imaginary stink.
No particular foul odor was ever verified, attributable to the primary object of nasal diligence. Nothing but thoroughly innocuous fumes, if not always perfectly sweet, were all that were ever discerned. The noses never once obliged the dog shit to actually corroborate its litany of charges with anything more substantive than its vivid imagination or its defamatory invective, both redolent of sweeping albeit wholly speculative nidorous vapor. But, not being a brand new odor, the smell of this prima donna dog shit was of insufficient novelty for official nose review. Yet the benign absence of bouquet fragrance, from the prime subject of respiratory attention, was condemned as if such were equivalent to the worst emission of toxic flatulence.
One expects a pile of dog shit to smell bad; that repellent quality of odor is intrinsic to its nature. But a nose which actually favors the fetid whiffets dispensed by a reeking turd is of dubious value, especially say, to feet in need of warning about pathway hazards. Still, the pious noses of record congratulated themselves heartily on the quality of their inquisitory whiffing, proud of their dedication to service and supremely confident in their pretense to olfactory virtue. And the dog shit just kept on putrefying the air, happily ever after.
Once upon a time there was a steaming pile of particularly malodorous dog shit. This awesomely fetid excreta attracted a stunning degree of olfactory attention, not because of its own noxious stench but for its strident complaint about an alleged other bad smell.
Now, one might expect that the most insensitive of noses would yet immediately detect a distinct whiff of irony, at the very least, given the author of the faultfinding discharge. But that would be presumptuous. For, indeed, such thinking betrays a failure to comprehend the seductive charm inherent to sheer monumental audacity. Noses are routinely gulled by the incense of righteous sanctimony. It serves as a potent aromatic balm that invariably overwhelms the scent of pathological hypocrisy, so that pontificating excrement may thereby conveniently excuse itself from suffering the standards of measure by which it insists others must be judged. Moreover, some noses display a capacity to become so complacently accustomed to familiar bad smells that a certain perverse comfort seems actually to be derived therefrom.
It is a common and beloved misconception that an accused offender enjoys the presumption of innocence in advance of proper nasal inquiry into allegations of inhalatory grievance, and especially in the absence of any corroborating evidence. But the portent of scandalous odors more commonly causes great hyperventilating excitement among noses. And, all the more among the most assertively keen snouts, nostrils flare accordingly at the prospect of scenting heretofore undetected sulfurous wind. The foul aroma, by which the conspicuous dog shit claimed to be so horribly offended, was purported to be the effluvia emitted by a source which had never before passed nasty air. And so it was that the dog shit's allegations quite excited the professional sniffers, the noses of official record.
The smelly turd, distinguished as it was by its own putrid essence, fumed incontinently, great accusatory gusts about said other supposed stink. And its scurrilous ad hominem derogation - so perfectly in keeping with its immutable nature - was further imbued with great emphasis by a diarrhea of the most repulsive sarcasms and sneering tones of voice incorporated into the already fulsome delivery of deprecatory vituperation. Not that the shit produced any genuinely substantive foundation for its denunciations, as it relied exclusively on totally unfounded fantasy conjecture, non sequitur leaps of preconceived judgment, and the dishonestly selective application (and oft times outright distortion) of dictionary meaning, to misrepresent the character of the scent in question. (It is not for nothing that dog shit has secured its universally acknowledged reputation.)
The professional noses breathed deeply, but then forthwith turned their critical olfactory attention towards the target of the dog shit's disparagement, away from the profoundly self-evident smell of the accuser and in the direction instead which yielded no impolite breeze. Notwithstanding the total inability of the accusing fetor simply to identify, precisely, the exact nature of the odorous offense it had so vaguely surmised, let alone to authenticate any particular incident of ostensible unpleasant discharge, the pro snoots - self-appointed arbiters of virtuous smell - began their own frenzied sniffing about, in what they soon commonly identified as "suspicious air."
While effectively rewarding the acrid dog shit with the benefit of presumed savory fragrance, the noses unduly discredited the subject of their scenting focus, which they described as possessing the character of an ill-defined "suspect" aroma. The fact that there was no valid evidenciary basis whatsoever, to support the purely hypothetical condemnatory contention, was plainly an irrelevant consideration. Once professional snouts are titillated by the slightest suggestion of newly-minted piquant zephyr, they are henceforth loathe to admit no bad air exists. No prize emolument is ever bestowed for not smelling foulness, for there is no salient excitement to an absence of putressence.
The characterization of "suspiciousness" was affixed, by the proboscis cognoscenti, for no better reason (which they would, of course, never willingly admit) than that they all desperately wanted a bad smell, a new one the discovery for which they could then flatter themselves with celebrity. Though cavalier to the point of complete nonchalance about putrid odors typically wafting from all the expected places, jaded professional sniffers reserve attentive arousal exclusively for the novelty of virgin offensiveness. Yet their capacity for obsession, manifest at the merest hint of untoward new aromas, knows no bounds. Pro noses often need no proof of arriviste stink beyond their own lust for exulting in fresh ordure.
Conventional nose wisdom automatically assumed the vilified spoor to be tainted, though said convention repeatedly failed - rather brazenly, just like the dog shit - to specify the precise nature, or to narrowly identify a given instance, of the alleged malodor, let alone actually detect certain proof positive of particular stink. Shifting the evidenciary burden to the accused, the noses demanded from the stigmatized recipient of the dog shit's exudations one of two things: 1) a confession - that it had in fact produced some heretofore unidentified mysterious bad odor, which so nefariously still escaped their keen olfactory vigilance - or 2) a proof, in terms of negative absolutes, demonstrating naught but totally innocent springtime fragrance, established to a certainty beyond all doubt that might attend even the most disingenuous or paranoid conjecture.
In the solitary aromatic mise-en-scène, considered by the noses, it was a foregone conclusion that some villainous smell was perforce being covered up. Having convinced themselves that a diabolical air freshening technique had been employed, so as to duplicitously deodorize the theoretical redolence, the noses reveled unsated in their prurient pursuit of phantom ill wind.
So enthused were the snoots in their sniffing about, many predicted imminent detection of the unspecified alleged offensiveness, even as they remained terminally vague in describing the specifics of their accusatory guesswork. The character of "suspiciousness," despite no intellectually credible foundation ever being offered to justify the misgivings which govern suspicion, was then further defined as if it were a quality of ultimate negative conclusion. In this case, the accused was described not by what smell was in fact discernible, but rather by speculative association to what smell might be detected were the accused to be caught, fragrant delecto, committing the hypothesized stink. The depiction was fashioned in the way that the scent of a typical camellia might be portrayed, with absolute certitude, as an aromatic equivalent to the fetid stench of vomit or skunk spray, the obvious proof of which may be readily discerned in the insidious character of masking fragrance employed to conceal the true malodor. In other words, a bad smell is evident even when it is not evident precisely because no evidence of offense constitutes proof positive of offense. Thus the circular reasoning and semantic tortures conjured by the noses betrayed their own rank smell of diaper pails and raw sewage.
But, of course, the noses were motivated not by any useful edified interest in establishing the truth or falsity of the dog shit's claims. Indeed, the accusant dung heap was unfailingly spared the least burden of proof. The noses were impelled rather by their intrinsic function of aggressive sniffing, and the attending desire to achieve fame, fortune and glory for the discovery of a heretofore unwhiffed bad smell. Plus they were, after awhile perhaps in this instance, guided a bit by the fear of failing altogether to actually discern said hypothetical rank odors, once they had virtually promised the whole world such would indubitably be detected.
Like any addict who lives for a fix, the royal schnozzles were invigorated by the simple process of inhalation, narrowly constrained to securing a snootful of some new-made repugnant essence. To be sure, the pertinent corollary ramifications of any given bad odor remained, in general, quite beyond nasal curiosity.
It may well be plausibly argued that the substance in olfactory question had no compellingly attractive aroma. Still, no specifically bad or even mildly disconcerting fumes, with which the accused had any bona fide associative culpability, were ever remotely established, by any honest judge of smell, to have ever been produced. But that certainly didn't inhibit the dog shit from further befouling the atmosphere. Nor did it in the least deter the professional schnozolas' collective nostrils from inquisitorial aspiration.
Never mind that it was dog shit that instigated the fury of hyperventilation. The self-evident nauseating rankness exuded by the fecal matter was paid no heed whatever while the pro noseholes sniffed otherwise about to discover the holy grail stink of their fondest dreams.
Every rare - exceedingly rare - once in awhile, a nose would perfunctorily concede that no discernibly offensive odor, from the source accused by the dog shit, had yet been ascertained. Even so, having preconceived a judgment of bad smell before certifying any particular fact of offensive emanation, the noses of record remained resolute in their aggressive sniffing, even as they never troubled themselves to recognize the blatant stench produced right under their besotted nostrils in the first place.
The snoots, which toiled so earnestly in their foul odor quest, managed to simply ignore the one overwhelmingly obvious stink completely, while nosing around elsewhere in their speculative lust. Their sniffing became so grotesquely perverse that the mere nonpresence of perfect ambrosial delectation, attending the featured object of their nasal scrutiny, became quite literally a synonym for the discharge of rotten smell.
All of this thrilled the dog shit, as one might well imagine. It kept on venting its olid stench. And the professional noses kept ardently inhaling, the smell to which they had grown so comfortably accustomed. And then they routinely directed their scent-hunt somewhere else yet again in pursuit of the never-certified imaginary stink.
No particular foul odor was ever verified, attributable to the primary object of nasal diligence. Nothing but thoroughly innocuous fumes, if not always perfectly sweet, were all that were ever discerned. The noses never once obliged the dog shit to actually corroborate its litany of charges with anything more substantive than its vivid imagination or its defamatory invective, both redolent of sweeping albeit wholly speculative nidorous vapor. But, not being a brand new odor, the smell of this prima donna dog shit was of insufficient novelty for official nose review. Yet the benign absence of bouquet fragrance, from the prime subject of respiratory attention, was condemned as if such were equivalent to the worst emission of toxic flatulence.
One expects a pile of dog shit to smell bad; that repellent quality of odor is intrinsic to its nature. But a nose which actually favors the fetid whiffets dispensed by a reeking turd is of dubious value, especially say, to feet in need of warning about pathway hazards. Still, the pious noses of record congratulated themselves heartily on the quality of their inquisitory whiffing, proud of their dedication to service and supremely confident in their pretense to olfactory virtue. And the dog shit just kept on putrefying the air, happily ever after.
