​

Apologies to Willy Wonka for co-opting and corrupting his catchphrase. It was, alas, irresistible

as both our stories have chocolate factories at the center. 

 

I know, dear reader, you’ve unwittingly heard from countless friends, family members, and

random strangers on transcontinental flights of the delights of bidets and their innate cleaning

superiority so I will not rehash them here, though they are legion. Instead, I’d like to provide

context for the bidet’s inevitability and why they are humanity’s genetic destiny and your

birthright.  

 

Here goes. Like the internet, life is a series of tubes. Or to be geometrically precise, tori. Donut

hole-like openings extending from a mouth-part to an exit strategy through which all manner of

substances pass. Unlimited breadsticks, Xanax, and an assortment of things one wouldn’t put in

one’s mouth-part if one really thought about it, all with the intent of extracting nutrients and

expelling the rest.  

 

Consider the worm. In one end and, with no regard for when or where, out the other. That

simple model holds true for most of the animal kingdom. Whatever grand design might have

guided evolution, it paid scant attention to excretory consequences.

 

The model works. And to be fair, it’s not all poop and run. Many species leave encoded

messages in their dropping for the benefit of their compatriots. (You know, like Twitter.) But

when you get to higher-order mammals, well, cracks begin to appear. 

 

Think of the buttocks as a Venn diagram. One cheek represents fur and the other fecal matter.

The intersection, though small, should not be entered lightly. It’s an unhygienic apocalyptic

miasma of irritants and odors that threaten not only health but one’s social standing. 

 

Nature has provided a variety of coping strategies, though with varying appeal. To see this in

action consider household pets. Cats are cursed with the worst sanitizing methodology of all: a

flexible spine and an abrasive tongue. Effective? One supposes, but at what cost to dignity?

Fortunately, it’s a strategy not available to humans apart from a few elite Cirque Du Soleil

performers.

 

Dogs, on the other hand, have acquired the ability to scooch, a skill anyone with carpeting

knows well. Unlike the cat’s spine/tongue trick, scooching can be accomplished by a reasonably

fit human. Though any human practitioner may falter socially. Forget swiping right, scooching is

swiping wrong.

 

For humans, solutions to the sanitation problem have relied on our large prefrontal cortex,

standing upright, opposable thumbs, discovery of fire, use of tools, the inventions of pottery,

plumbing, and paper (two-ply!), mass manufacturing, and advertising. It’s a lot. But considering

the aforementioned pet strategies, worth it. Yet our ingenuity need not end with a roll of

 

Charmin. Did Las Vegas didn’t stop with the cocktail napkin? No, Bellagio’s fountains are far

more impressive. 

 

While no toilet needs to replicate Geneva’s Jet d’Eau – a 125-mile-per-hour, 130 gallon-per-

second stream shooting 450 feet in the air – do we not all deserve a moment of solitude at the

end of our labor to reflect on the genius of humanity and to bask in our creativity, letting it

wash warmly over us, clearing our minds and raising our spirits while blasting every last clinging

Oompa Loompa from our nethers? We do; do indeed.

 

If you enjoyed today’s moot, check out Craig’s website. If you are feeling generous, consider donating to the Southern Center for Human Rights, Craig’s charity of choice.