Let’s talk shit

Shit. Such a graphic word, so versatile, sitting somewhere between vulgar and yet fascinating. “Shit happens.” That has so much more punch than saying, “Excrement happens.” In common discourse the word shit catches more attention than feces, or dung, or poop, or manure, or waste. “Dung beetle” is a more elegant moniker than “shit bug,” but that is another story. Shit is one of the first four-letter words kids use to test their parents’ tolerance.

The first meaning that comes to mind when we hear the word “shit” is that it is a bad word. Nice people don’t use that kind of language. If we call someone a shit-head or a shit-face, we do not hold that person in high esteem. If we say a person has shit for brains, that is hardly a complement. A shit disturber, however useful at times, is usually not the most popular person in a group. Bad as the word sounds it doesn’t raise eyebrows quite like that other commonplace four-letter word which I do not dare mention.

How many parents have had to deal with a little guy looking with pride at the first piece of shit he has just deposited in the toilet, perhaps with some extraordinary effort. Along comes Daddy or Mommy and flushes it down. The child throws a hissyfit when he sees his shit go down the toilet. “Hey,” he yells. “That was mine. Why did you do that? Where did it go? I want it back.” Mommy or Daddy might have a difficult time helping him accept that this is the right thing to do with our shit.

Shit can be downright disgusting. It smells like, well, like shit. I have no clear idea what kind of shit smells worst, but I would put my money on pig shit any day. Maybe horse shit, among domestic animals, is the least offensive. To me a horse barn always smelled more welcoming than a pig barn or a cow shed or a chicken coop.

Another thing about shit smelling. Royals have long tried to fool their subjects by hiding their shit to make people believe that royal shit doesn’t stink. Take it from me, royal shit smells no different than the shit dumped in dark doorways by homeless people.

Shit offers endless opportunity for creative graffiti. When I was a young lad we called the little buildings in the back yards of our village shit houses. This appeared one day in ours, “Why go west when you can make your pile here?”

Shit is important in many ways. Think of fertilizer. Long, long ago, people discovered that if they spread shit on their land the crops grew much better. Human shit, euphemistically called “night soil,” is one of the top fertilizers still in use. Farmers know the value of shit when it comes to fertilizer. I was visiting a Saskatchewan farmer who had just sprayed his fields with liquid manure from his pig barn. I commented on the horrible smell. He shrugged his shoulders. “To you it smells like shit, but to me that is the smell of money.” Those who raise hogs and cattle sell their shit for good money. Grocery stores proudly display steer shit for sale in plastic bags.

Every living creature shits. Every animal in the sea shits, great whales, little shrimp, millions of fish. Every day they unload tons of shit into the sea. Every animal in the woods shits. Bears shit, wolves shit, snakes shit, birds shit, all of them dropping volumes of shit into the environment. Every insect on earth shits, not a heck of a lot per insect but it does mount up. Way back, dinosaurs and mammoths released huge piles of shit when they roamed the earth. Elephants and rhinos work to continue that tradition. Yes, a lot of shitting is going on all over the earth and it’s been happening ever since life started. The earth didn’t complain about that and still doesn’t. That’s because good things can grow in the shit.

Imagine for a moment that in order to keep our planet smelling better, we stop all the shitting that is going on and find a way to enforce it. No creature shall shit anymore. After a few days, many will be sick. After a week or two, most will be very sick, and some will be dead. After a month or two there might no longer be any living creature on earth, except maybe those who are hibernating, but they will have to pay later. Plants that rely on shit for fertilization will feel the effect soon enough. Shit is vital on earth. We can’t get along without it. No shit, no life.

Let’s bring up the problem in Victoria about sewage. Victoria still dumps tons of sewage into the strait to the south, at present with what seems less than adequate treatment. But I do not subscribe to the idea that we foul the ocean with human shit. That guy going around dressed as Mr. Floatie, a piece of human shit, is a walking lie. If you find a piece of shit on the beach, it didn’t arrive there from the Victoria sewage system. Chunks of human shit would never make it through the sewer system to the outfall deep in the ocean and back again to the beach. What you have picked up, if you have a mind to do that, is far more likely to be a piece of dog shit, which does not break down so easily.

The real problem with our sewage is something other than human shit. The problem with untreated or lightly treated sewage is in the toxic chemicals. That is the real shit which threatens marine life. But that shit hasn’t got the yuck factor that human shit has. We love our oil, our gas, our pesticides, our cosmetics, our solvents, our herbicides, our disinfectants, our bleach, our pharmaceuticals. After all, these things drive our economy and our comfort. Environmental concerns are minor compared to that. It is so much sexier to rant about human shit than about the mixed bag of poisonous chemicals we routinely discharge into city sewers.

Another consideration when we talk about shit is how precious it is for our health. Many doctors routinely examine samples of their patients’ shit to determine the status of their health. Okay, so they use a nicer word for it, but it is still shit. As an old person I am fully aware of the importance of still being able to shit regularly. The system still works as it should. Just lately, medics have discovered that if they shove healthy shit into someone’s large intestines they can kill harmful bacteria which resist other treatment. Makes me wonder how long they have been playing with shit to find that out.

There is an interesting passage in Paul’s letter to the Philippians (3:8). Most of the English translations have Paul considering everything outside the gospel as “loss” or “worthless”, or “rubbish.” A bible scholar of my acquaintance informed me that Paul’s word is a lot more graphic. The Greek word skubalon actually means “dog shit.” Not even good as fertilizer, that stuff. By the way, this is by no means the only instance of translations of the Holy Book cleaning up the more colourful language of the original texts.

That little reflection on dog shit brings up one of my pet peeves. Many dog owners walk their pets along our street, which is a mere one block long. It is not at all uncommon to find up to five piles of shit on our lawns and often even on the sidewalk. One day I witnessed a young man who appeared to be very considerate. He carefully picked up his dog’s shit with a plastic bag, and then quickly dumped it into the back of a small truck parked conveniently nearby. I very much doubt it was his truck. Talk about chutzpah. People who do not want to be responsible for their doggie deposits should consider getting a stuffed dog instead. No vet bills, no expensive foods, obedient to a fault, they stay at home alone without complaint, and, above all, no shit to clean up.

The word shit has interesting metaphorical meanings. If you tell me a story that catches me by surprise, I might blurt out, “No shit!” or “Holy shit!” Make a mistake and we holler, “Shit. Shit. Shit.” And we add for emphasis, “Sheee—it!” If we hear something we have trouble believing, we say, “You’re shitting me, aren’t you?” If we are really certain, we snort, “You’re full of shit.” When someone clearly puts off a decision, we complain, “Come on, shit, or get off the pot.”

Shit can refer to something good, like when we hear someone say it is time for us to “get our shit together.” In the world of sport how many times have we heard a player gloat, “We sure as hell beat the shit out of them this time.” We use the word to issue a threat, “Do that again and I will beat the living shit out of you.” Then there’s that interesting expression, “I really don’t give a shit.” What kind of shit is that?

We have long used the term “bullshit” to label something not quite true. Those who are interested in learning more about that kind of shit might want to read a remarkable little book, On Bullshit, by a renowned moral philosopher, Harry G. Frankfurt, Professor Emeritus of Princeton University, published in 2005. Hey, no joking. This is serious reading.

But, back to the beginning. Shit happens in our lives. A horrible accident, a death in the family, a loss of a job, serious illness, failure. We might pray to God for a miracle to get us out of the mess and when that does not happen we might feel disappointed, even to the point of questioning whether God exists, or if God does exist, is it a caring God. At such a time we might do well to mind the old saying, “Pray as if everything depended on God, and then get up off your knees and get to work.” I think God is as much in the shit of our lives as in the good things that happen.

Modern medicine has made terrific discoveries to deal with every kind of ailment. The discovery of a wide range of antibiotics has resulted in new generations of super bugs. So the shit continues and can even be worse because we put too much faith in our pills. That is just what it is: no matter what steps we take, shit just continues to happen.

Many parents frantically attempt to shield their children from anything that might cause them pain, or make them cry. We need to help children learn very early in their lives that shit happens. It is a fact of life we cannot avoid. We don’t need to go out looking for it. It will happen. Bad things happen to good people, and good things happen to bad people. There is no way to explain that. We need to teach children by example how to deal with shit when it enters our lives, provide them with the tools to survive, even to thrive. Dry your tears, dust yourself off, and get on with life. The pain may never go away; scars may never heal over completely, but that is real life. No shit. No life. Just that simple.

I end this essay with a story which on the surface might seem silly. I am not sure who sent it to me or when or where it came from originally. You can find it on the internet if you google Little girl on a plane.

            A congressman was seated next to a little girl on the  airplane leaving from Atlanta when he turned to her and said, “Let’s talk. I’ve heard that flights go quicker if you  strike up a conversation with your fellow passenger.”
The little girl, who had just opened her book, closed  it slowly and said to the total stranger, “What would you  like to talk about?”
“Oh, I don’t know,” said the southern congressman. “How about global warming or universal health care?” and he smiles smugly.
“OK,” she said. “Those could be  interesting topics. But let me ask you a question first. A horse, a cow, and a deer all eat the same stuff – grass. Yet a deer excretes little pellets, while a cow turns out a flat patty, and a horse produces clumps of dried  grass. Why do you suppose that is?”
The southern legislator, visibly surprised by the little girl’s intelligence, thinks about it and says, “Hmmm, I have no idea.”
To which the little girl replies, “Do you really feel qualified to discuss global warming or universal health care when you don’t know shit?”

There you have it. Stuff you maybe wanted to know about shit but were too squeamish or too embarrassed to ask. You’re welcome.