The Meaning of it All

Prologue:

I hoped that what I am about to do had already been done.

I wish I could have simply picked up a ten-volume treatise on the subject and sat back with a couple of fingers of an Ardmore that’s been on this earth longer than me and read about the subject at my own leisure.

I certainly never wanted the demands of a task so important to mankind to fall squarely upon my narrow and unsteady shoulders. However, after many sleepless days, it has struck me that perhaps this is my calling. Perhaps this is what I owe civilization. And perhaps maybe, just maybe, there is in fact a meaning, to my life.

Part One:

Man has only one sensation comparable to orgasm.

Such an intense progression of vulnerability, euphoria and absolute clarity can only be approached – and often surpassed – while taking a shit.

Some of the most astonishing things ever said to me, were said by men attempting to explain their affection for shitting. Here are a few:

“I like it so much, that sometimes, I seriously wonder if I’m gay.” (IS)


“If you’ve never looked afterwards and seen blood in the toilet, then you my friend have not lived.” (MM)


“It’s birth, it’s life, and it’s death, all in one beautiful terrible experience. It is everything, yet the sum of it is nothing.” (CK)

Shitting is a unique experience.

I have friends who only shit at home. I have friends who only shit naked (but not necessarily at home.)

I have friends who only shit under candlelight. I have friends who only shit under the moonlight.

I have friends who will only rest their ass on black porcelain. I have friends who will only rest their ass upon the fur of a freshly killed chinchilla.

I have friends who rush themselves to the emergency room if they don't shit for 32 hours. I have friends who rush themselves to a therapist if they don't shit for 32 hours.

I have friends who pray while they shit. I have friends who consider shitting to be prayer.

I have friends who touch themselves while they shit.

I had a friend once tell me that if he could bring himself to orgasm while shitting, he would promptly point his gun to his head and pull the trigger, because life could never get any better.

I had a friend once argue with me vehemently that not only is shitting comparable to sex, but that it is superior to sex because shitting is the epitome of a man finding peace on his own. Unlike sex or masturbation, a man’s mind can be clear of all thoughts when shitting. Shitting, was his religion.

Part Two:

A recent article in the Johns Hopkins Journal of Medicine hypothesized that the quality of a man’s shitting almost directly correlates with his general level of happiness. The author stopped short of taking a position on whether the quality of shitting was in fact the cause of the happiness, or vice versa. However, a study published in last quarter’s Stanford Mental Health Review explained a prevailing trend among psychiatrists to stop prescribing anti-anxiety medications, and instead, asking their patients to simply use over the counter laxatives for what ails them. This movement was prompted by a recent study done at Oxford University in which a large group of patients were told they were being given anti-anxiety pills, when in fact half of them had been given a simple over-the-counter laxative. In over 90% of the cases, patients who had been given the laxatives experienced better long-term results. The physicians at Oxford concluded that frequent shitting translated to frequent gratification, which led to superior mental health.

The three studies however shared the same flaw; they were unable to come up with a standardized approach for how to rate the quality of the patient’s shit. Physicians complained that it was difficult to gauge how patients truly felt about their shitting experiences because the patients themselves had difficulty identifying and analyzing their full range of sensations. This in turn made it difficult for doctors to prescribe proper types and dosages of laxative.

A physician from the Oxford study analogized one’s ability to properly rate his own shit, to drinking a fine wine. With wine, recreational drinkers taste only the grapes and alcohol, however there are numerous other intricacies that must be assessed when judging one’s total conscious and - perhaps more importantly - subconscious experience with the wine; such is the same with shit.

Several shit rating websites litter the internet, making this problem even more taxing for physicians because it distorts the patient's perception of a truly gratifying shit. Many websites request that its visitors to rate the poop of others based solely on its appearance. (This appalling practice has recently been criminalized in many Scandinavian countries.)

A man can only be the judge of his own shit. Shitting is a private, spiritual, and borderline-sexual experience. Taking pictures of one’s own stool and posting it on the internet for others to “rate” is an ignorant and vile act. Appearance is an infinitesimal part of how shit should truly be evaluated. These websites will sicken any genuine aficionado. (figuratively)

Part Three:

Alas, the preceding has demonstrated what is known as the “21^st Century Paradox” facing the shitting community. On one hand, the medical field desperately seeks a way for individuals to uniformly communicate their level of satisfaction with a shitting experience. However, on the other hand, shitting is a divine – and erotic – experience for the individual.

Being able to precisely measure the totality of one’s fulfillment from shitting will aid physicians and the medical research community, as well as thinkers and philosophers who focus on shit-based schools of thought. What many researchers refer to as, “The Eternal Question” is as follows:

“How can we formulate an objective measure for something that can only be measured subjectively?”

Part Four:

The following is an abstract from a project on which I am currently working that attempts to answer this age-old question. (A synopsis of the work will appear in the next quarter’s Carnegie Mellon Mental Health Review. I hope to someday complete the treatise; the first twelve-volumes of which are scheduled to be published in late 2012, and the thirteenth will be written later in my life (or by my first born son.))

I have spend the last several years of my life working on a way to measure the quality of one’s dump.

The scale I have devised is simple on its face, yet very intricate in its malleability. It compiles the objective criteria used subconsciously by all when evaluating a shitting experience. Yet, it allows the individual to apply a unique weight and rating to each factor, thus allowing him to properly judge true satisfaction.

The Seven Criteria: (aka, “The Seven Wonders of the Post-Modern World”)

Physical Pleasure – This can be broken down into two subcategories: stomach relief and rectal pleasure. However, to simplify at this early stage, I will lump these into one category.

Physical Pleasure is best measured in a quadrant. An example will simplify this: certain people have a “work hard and play hard” mentality. (Which means that they would give a higher rating to a stomachache relieving, jagged edged, football sized, sphincter-cutting shit.) Conversely, there are people who dislike the stomachaches, and also prefer easy effortless shits.

Different strokes for different folks, however the important lesson is that physical pleasure must be accounted for. (Janet Jackson wrote a song in the 1980’s called “Pleasure Principle” that metaphorically addresses this precise issue.)

Emotional Fulfillment – In 6^th Century BC, Prince Siddhartha Gautama began his quest for enlightenment. The first step in his long journey was finding a place to meditate. One day he noticed a monk meditating while shitting under a tree. Over time, he noticed others shitting as the monk shat – a great many of whom found enlightenment in the process. Deeply influenced by his observations, the Prince decided to shit under a tree himself. 15 years later he found enlightenment and formed a small religion we now know as Buddhism.

The mental state is a critical component to the shitting experience. What a man accomplishes in the course of thought whilst shitting must be taken into account.

Exit – Cleanliness of the exit is another crucial - crucial - factor. (In much of Eastern Europe and Northwest Asia, this is referred to as the “Dismount”) Sometimes the fecal matter passes through an asshole so pure and so clean, that wiping afterwards is considered disrespectful. (Wiping in that situation is an indicator of impending bad luck in most South American countries.) On the other hand, there are times when a man's shit is so filthy that he is left with no choice but to shower immediately after. And oftentimes this must be done in a different bathroom.

Nutritionists have published thousands of books and peer reviewed journal articles on how to improve the Exit of a shit through proper diet. And equally prevalent are books and seminars of yoga masters on proper technique designed to improve the Exit.

There’s a reason why people wear black underwear.

Smell – A roommate once called to tell me that he took a shit in the basement of our three story house, and later that evening, he could smell traces of it on the second floor. To this day he refers to the instant he smelt the shit upstairs as, “The Moment.”

The woman I love once asked me, “Do people like the smell of their own shit better because it reminds them of the food that they ate?” I didn’t have an answer, but I admired the question.

Some people are not fully satisfied with their shit unless their eyes are watering from the stench, whereas others don’t want to smell a thing. The lesson here is that smell matters.

Duration – Some men wish for a shitting session that lasts long enough to read an article in Maxim magazine, others like to read the New Yorker. Some want to read a novel, others, a tetralogy. Some men sit down with a laptop computer, others, with a guitar and digital recorder.

I know men who sit down with a cigar and a liter of single malt, and won't get up until both are finished. It is widely know that Beethoven wrote his Fifth Symphony while taking one shit. Whether you like them long or short, length of time spent on the throne is a factor that must be rated.

Appearance – My first Saturday St. Patrick’s Day celebration in Chicago was spent bar hopping and drinking green beer. I had a great time. My first Sunday after St. Patrick’s Day in Chicago was spent admiring my fluorescent green stools, and I had an even better time.

Looks can make a shit memorable.

Size – Everyone has experienced this: your stomach is hurting, and getting to a toilet feels like nothing short of an emergency. You rush to the bathroom expecting a tremendous shit, but after you’ve finished, you look into the toilet expecting to see a grapefruit, yet all you find is a grape. You think to yourself, “That can’t be all? All of that discomfort I was feeling can’t be relieved by such a small turd.” You realize that the pain relief is only temporary, and that the mother load is still waiting inside. Another run to the toilet is imminent. (speaking of size, I have a friend who’s confessed clogging toilets with just shit. No paper.) Size matters. Even though a lot of it is just mental,, seeing a big shit gives a man a sense of closure.

Using the formula is simple. First, you rate each of the seven factors on a scale of 1-10. Then weigh the importance of each of the seven criteria. This varies from person to person, and from shit to shit. My current equation would look something like this:

X = (Physical Pleasure*.15) + (Emotional Fulfillment*.30) + (Exit*.31) + (Smell*.05) + (Duration*.15) + (Appearance *.02) + (Size*.02)

Please note, that this formula remains in its early stages of development. But nonetheless, I feel it is on the right track. As you begin your journey towards enlightenment, I’ll leave you with a quote,

“The perfect ass wiping experience is when your lone swipe leaves the paper clean, except for a small drop of blood.” (Socrates)