Joseph Pujol, aka Le Pétomane, aka the Fartiste. The gas from his abdomen swept Moulin Rouge, entertained kings, and suffocated women in corset.

What a blast indeed!

He farted with eloquent and wit: the sound of a bride on her wedding night (small noise)... the morning after (loud rasping noise)... a cannon (loud thunder)... and an impression of San Francisco earthquake.

In this weary world of bureaucrats and executives, I have often heard speeches that stink more and mean less than farts of the Fartiste.

And here is a movie about Joseph Pujol

— 2005. 11. 11