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2006-04-14 -Short Attention Span Theater-
Beans-farts link 'factual reality'
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Posted by Fred 2006-04-14 00:00|| || Front Page|| [3 views since 2007-05-07]  Top

#1 
Beans and franks farts have an empirical provenance for every bean eater, and are traditionally passed around back and forth between one generation and the next. This can verified in a long history of legume reports dating back to the pre-petard epoch.
Posted by RD 2006-04-14 03:52||   2006-04-14 03:52|| Front Page Top

#2 The Tale of Abu Hassan, from the unexpurgated Arabian Nights, by Sir Richard Burton.

They recount that in the city of Kaukaban in Yemen there was a man named Abu Hasan of the Fadhli tribe who left the Bedouin life and became a townsman and the wealthiest of merchants. His wife died while both were young, and his friends pressed him to marry again.

Weary of their pressure, Abu Hasan entered into negotiations with the old women who procure matches, and married a woman as beautiful as the moon shining over the sea. To the wedding banquet he invited kith and kin, ulema and fakirs, friends and foes, and all of his acquaintances.

The whole house was thrown open to feasting: There were five different colors of rice, and sherbets of as many more; kid goats stuffed with walnuts, almonds, and pistachios; and a young camel roasted whole. So they ate and drank and made merry.

The bride was displayed in her seven dresses -- and one more -- to the women, who could not take their eyes off her. At last the bridegroom was summoned to the chamber where she sat enthroned. He rose slowly and with dignity from his divan; but in do doing, for he was over full of meat and drink, he let fly a great and terrible fart.

In fear for their lives, all the guests immediately turned to their neighbors and talked aloud, pretending to have heard nothing.

Mortified, Abu Hasan turned away from the bridal chamber and as if to answer a call of nature. He went down to the courtyard, saddled his mare, and rode off, weeping bitterly through the night.

In time he reached Lahej where he found a ship ready to sail for India; so he boarded, arriving ultimately at Calicut on the Malabar coast. Here he met with many Arabs, especially from Hadramaut, who recommended him to the King. This King (who was a Kafir) trusted him and advanced him to the captaincy of his bodyguard. He remained there ten years, in peace and happiness, but finally was overcome with homesickness. His longing to behold his native land was like that of a lover pining for his beloved; and it nearly cost him his life.

Finally he sneaked away without taking leave and made his way to Makalla in Hadramaut. Here he donned the rags of a dervish. Keeping his name and circumstances a secret, he set forth on foot for Kaukaban. He endured a thousand hardships of hunger, thirst, and fatigue; and braved a thousand dangers from lions, snakes, and ghouls.

Drawing near to his old home, he looked down upon it from the hills with brimming eyes, and said to himself, "They might recognize me, so I will wander about the outskirts and listen to what people are saying. May Allah grant that they do not remember what happened."

He listened carefully for seven nights and seven days, until it happened that, as he was sitting at the door of a hut, he heard the voice of a young girl saying, "Mother, tell me what day was I born on, for one of my companions wants to tell my fortune."

The mother answered, "My daughter, you were born on the very night when Abu Hasan farted."

No sooner had the listener heard these words than he rose up from the bench and fled, saying to himself, "Verily my fart has become a date! It will be remembered for ever and ever.

He continued on his way, returning finally to India, where he remained in self exile until he died. May the mercy of Allah be upon him!
Posted by Anonymoose 2006-04-14 10:03||   2006-04-14 10:03|| Front Page Top

#3 McGinty was a man of dignity. His entire family was noted for its dignity, and had been for hundreds of years in their native town.

One day McGinty was standing in the town square speaking with the bishop, the mayor and five silver-haired fellows from Parliament about the new town hall they wanted to build. Most of his friends and neighbors were standing around them, listening as he spoke, for McGinty was also a fine speaker.

And then, as McGinty stretched forth his hand to point to the site, suddenly, without warning, he cut the loudest, smelliest fart anyone had ever encountered. The cheese was so ripe, the bishop's eyes rolled up in his head. The mayor gagged. Several women and one member of Parliament swooned on the spot.

That very afternoon, McGinty packed a single bag and left town, left Ireland entirely. He joined the French Foreign Legion, changing his name to Nadir. He spent 16 years in North Africa, tromping the desert, seldom saying a word. From there, he went to the Yukon, where he lived for eight years in the wilderness, panning for gold. He spent six years in Central America, running guns to the rebels, then went to Katmandu, where he lived on top of a mountain for ten years. Finally he went to India, where he worked with the nuns for ten more years, feeding the hungry and caring for the sick.

Full fifty years went by before McGinty set foot in the land of his birth again. McGinty's plane landed in Dublin and he took his breath of fresh Eire. The old man, now in his nineties, hired a driver to take him home, so that he might see his boyhood home once more before he died.

The cabman stopped in the town square and McGinty got out and looked around. They had built the town hall, and the church now had a fine stone facade. There were a few different names on the signs over the shops, but the town looked much as it had when he left.

"Do y'know this town?" McGinty asked the cabman.

"Aye," said the man. "Been here several times."

"And would y'be knowin' when they put that facade on the church over there?"

"Ah, that's been many years now," the cabman said, thinking hard to recall. "It was before my time. In fact, it couldn'ta been more'n ten, fifteen years after McGinty cut that big fart in the town square!"
Posted by Fred 2006-04-14 11:26||   2006-04-14 11:26|| Front Page Top

#4 Beans, beans.
The musical fruit!
Posted by DarthVader 2006-04-14 11:42||   2006-04-14 11:42|| Front Page Top

#5 I once had a bowl of white raisins on my kitchen table. Every morning on my way out to work, I'd grab a handful and drop them into my mouth. My son would do the same before going to school. One day, the white raisins got small dark spots on them. That day, I could empty a room silently, secretly with a warm sulfer dioxide bomb. When I got home, I asked, and sure enough, my son emptied the study hall with a silent SDB. This is highly classified info, so don't try it at home.
Posted by wxjames 2006-04-14 12:46||   2006-04-14 12:46|| Front Page Top

#6 Thanks for the great stories, guys! LOL
Posted by JDB 2006-04-14 13:50||   2006-04-14 13:50|| Front Page Top

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