You may have heard about a little scandal involving a Nebraska politician, a Facebook like, and the ensuing harassment by the politician’s chief of staff against the professor behind the Facebook like — but are you sure you know the full story?
Because, here’s the thing, folks, the noble House Fartenberry would like to have a word with Jeff “Fortenberry” about disowning his roots and trying to pass himself off as something he’s not.
When I was in the seventh grade, I was taught that everybody farts, even Hootie & the Blowfish (no, this isn’t me attempting a pun, this is me pointing out that I am getting old, now get off my lawn). As a matter of fact, uncontrollable flatulence is a problem for millions of Americans, or so I read on Twitter. So why isn’t Jeff, real name Fartenberry, standing with them?
Solidarity is hard to find in these trying times. All people want to do is own each other on social media, as opposed to embrace each other. You can’t even threaten a college professor with the possibility of a right-wing mob coming after him online without him uploading your threats to YouTube and making you both a damn laughing stock and a cautionary tale about the spread of authoritarianism in this country simultaneously.
You would think that in light of all that, Jeff Fartenberry would be willing to step up and own his true lineage and birthright. Honestly, what’s the big deal about having “fart” in your name? Farting is something everybody can relate to — we all have that one funny story about someone else’s fart, as well as that one tragic story about our own fart. So why won’t Fartenberry get behind that which unites us all?
Quite obviously, the sinister anti-fart lobby is at work. I know that when people hear “sinister lobby,” they think of the usual suspects — such as Jewish people who have the temerity to participate in politics, or perhaps Black people, or possibly women, or maybe even Jewish and/or Black women (you think women should count as “people”? What kind of out-of-touch snowflake are you?) — but I am here to tell you that the rabbit hole goes far deeper than this.
The truth is sinister, and I know that many of you will be disappointed to hear it. But I am a truth-teller and a truth-seeker, so here it is: The anti-fart lobby is literally tied to Our Great Orange Hero and Bonespurs-in-Chief, Donald Trump himself. Howard Stern can confirm it via Julia Ioffe:
I know, I know. It’s frankly awful when your president betrays you. You want to believe it was all done for a good cause, and perhaps it was. Maybe Trump was just trying to out-fake the reptilians posing as people that his friend Alex Jones believes in. As in, “Yeah, Melania never farts, so this is cool, we’re in your club, we are also the reptiles,” thus lulling them into a state of complacency before delivering the final blow.
Strategy is a complicated thing, perhaps too complicated for my underdeveloped lady brain to understand fully. Still, until we have official comment from the Trumps on the matter, I choose to believe in an anti-Fartenberry conspiracy. Conspiracies are more fun, after all. And, to be completely honest, farts are kind of fun as well.
When civilization is reduced to rubble because a bunch of us were too racist and paranoid to let it continue, we will still have farts. When the nuclear winter comes without a star, farts may keep us warm for a few minutes (maybe). At the very least, they’ll keep us laughing.
This is why Jeff “Fortenberry” should go ahead and drop the charade. Be the Fartenberry you want to see in this world. Even in a crowded elevator. Especially in a crowded elevator.