Large Fierce Mammal

In the throes of the Late Unpleasantness, a lot of ideas floated, and even now never really shot down, could be readily identified as a waste of time and resources by anyone who understood how things work. Today’s case in point is a poetical adaptation of the example I use when confronted with the argument that putting high performance filters in the air handling systems of buildings will act as a curb against the spread of viral particles among occupants. Such a concept forgets that the spaces occupied by those occupants are a part of the air handling system which delivers fresh air and recovers spent air, rinses and repeats. Filtration may occur at the point where air is drawn into the system from outside, and certainly inside the ducts before it gets recurrently delivered to the occupied spaces, but once it gets there it’s just another breeze.

So to the believers in the room I pose this question: If you worked in a cubicle next to one occupied by the hottest woman you’ve ever seen and for whom you hold the greatest of hopes, would you be confident enough in those filters to release an otherwise silent fart?

As the song says, the answer is blowing in the wind.

Fart in a Windstorm

By LFM

A fart in a windstorm’s
A trivial thing,
But less so for one
Lacking caution to fling.

The pandemic just passed
Came with marvelous tales
That sold public safety
Through doubtful travails.

Uttered by “experts”
Were passionate pleas
For filters in buildings
To keep out disease.

And so it was done
With one Great Truth denied,
No filter keeps out
What’s already inside.

For of ductwork unseen
Is a fact known to few —
The space where you work
Is a part of it too.

From its sweet breath upon you,
All filtered and clean,
Air’s thence to the intake,
Past all points between.

So one thing is sure
Of this succulent draft;
What’s upon it upwind
Will downwindwardly waft.

But take not my word,
Let’s use science instead,
And thus chase confusion
Straight out of your head.

In the large open office
Where this will occur,
One cubicle’s yours,
The other’s for her.

And she is the fairest
That you’ve ever seen,
Personified blending
Of sweet with obscene.

You’ve made all the inroads,
No red lights in sight,
That first date’s ahead
And tonight is the night!

But now here’s the rub,
There’s a gurgle below
That speaks of grim outcomes
From letting it go.

The range to the washroom
You gauge in a glance,
But the speed and exertion
Risk shitting your pants.

You may be successful
In squeaking one out,
But released to the wild
Whither then is in doubt!

Now remember those filters
Won’t let evil pass.
Just relax and believe!
Won’t they cover your ass?

What you trust with your life
You may come to rescind,
Lest your hopes for the future
Be gone with the wind.