seriously, who farted?

There used to be this show that followed Memphis homicide detectives called "The First 48." And I would salivate at its very mention. I loved this show. It was true crime, and it was shit I recognized. Someone got shot AND one time I drove down that street!? It really doesn't get much better.

In my very favorite episode of "The First 48," two detectives are investigating a murder case involving a woman who got run over by a car. Repeatedly. They pull up to a housing project to talk to this guy, whose name was Big somebody. Big Nasty? I can't remember. All I know is he looked like Jabba the Hutt and he had a mad case of Crazy Eye.

The lady detective walks up and starts talking to him. Just chit-chat at first, the usual stuff. No mention of the crime, of any crime at all. And then she asks him where he was on Tuesday. And he says:

"I don't even OWN a car!"

Really? Really, Jabba? Naturally, the detective calmly pointed out to him that no one had said anything about any vehicle. And I think I can go ahead and cut to the end on this one, brace yourself, HE DID IT.

This line of defense that he chose -- the interjection of a seemingly random piece of information without any prompt -- is what I've recently termed a "Who Farted?" statement. And truly, there are better examples than Big Nasty Jabba, because he gave himself right away with that one. The true Who Farted usually starts with a phrase like "just so you know," and ends with a phrase that defends the person of a crime in which NO ONE has accused them, but now EVERYONE suspects them.

Hence, "Who Farted?"

It's the age-old law of He Who Smelt It, Dealt It, taken one better. If you're going on and on about something, explaining and explaining and explaining something that no one else even noticed or brought up or mentioned, you're probably guilty. I mean, we could call it Telltale Heart Syndrome, but that's way too smart and literary and "Who Farted?" just seems a lot more applicable to daily life. Oooh, do you smell that? Who did that? It's awful!

Yeah, it is awful. And you did it. So shut up.

If you write a poem about bludgeoning someone to death, I'm not going to assume you really, really want to get to bludgeoning. Unless, of course, you include a disclaimer with the publication that goes on and on and ON about how this isn't REALLY about how you want to bludgeon someone, it's a metaphor, it's a simile or an onomatopoeia and besides you've been taking pills for that anyway. I didn't think you wanted to bludgeon anyone before. But now?

Who farted?


cheers,
elizabeth