Farting Proudly

(with kavod to Ben Franklin)

B"H

Purim came and went. I leyned from a Megillah scribed by my wife the Soferet, while wearing her wedding dress (she wore my outfit too, and there were many remarks upon our similarity in size, though at least one complaint that I don't "fill out" the dress like she did). We hosted our dear friend Kyla up from Seattle that day and through the weekend. Shaloch manot were given and received. Haman was remembered and erased and remembered and erased, and the general merriment tinkled straight into Shabbat.

But there was no post about profanity.

Alas!

I just don't have time to write the durn thing. But here's the gist: Typical, I believe, of musicians, I have a widely diverse collection of music, and I enjoy mixing it up, especially while wholesomely engaged in monotonous, mindless labor. Occasionally, a certain song by a certain Texas-based acoustic roots band, addressing a certain subject (sex) with a certain focus (anatomical in nature), comes up in the playlist. And Aviel will roll her eyes, not that it's that song again but that I will be so visibly happy to hear it. To be honest, it brings me joy.

By any conventional measure, this song is pure, unadorned profanity. I can argue that the energy and musicianship behind its performance is dazzling, which it is, or that the lyrics are admirably clever, which they are, but if the subject matter were lofty philosophy or theology, would I be so delighted? Perhaps (if the song were as good), but probably not any more. So what's my problem?

I think what delights me is that such an "earthy" subject has been given so much attention. I mean, how could I not take delight in another mortal's expression of unabashed glee at the simple pleasures of his mortal condition? Every detail of my life, even a smelly one, is in some way or another an expression of my Divine purpose. That's why I say a brakhah for moving my bowels.

I remember once having a lovely argument with a great rebbetzin, over the meaning of the religious dictate that holy books should be removed from open view in a room where partners make love. Loveliest about this argument was that we ended up agreeing: the books and the lovemaking are separated because each is so holy that it requires its own separate sanctuary. What this sounds like, then, is that there is always sacredness (sometimes even profound sacredness) in the profane.

This rankles, because the classical constructions of "sacred" and "profane," to my knowledge, are as opposites, and it seems to me that they can't be. Either that, or (more likely, I suspect) we just don't have a good grasp on what profanity really is. What I want to do is go back to the sources, beginning with Gen. 4:26, and take a survey of the term's usage, and try to rattle a serviceable definition out of it. But, like I said, I don't have time to do that right now; so, instead, I'd like to open the floor to discussion, ideas, anecdotes, confessions. Especially confessions! I've noticed that most people I have encountered in this life who have a truly vital connectedness with Divinity, also have a healthy appreciation for the profane. Stand up now, and be counted. :)