When I fly, I ramp up my iPod and clamp on my headphones as soon as I sit down in my aisle seat. I don't want to talk to anybody. I just want to forget, as quickly as I can, exactly how many body parts of unknown origin are within five feet of my nose and mouth. I close my eyes and listen to the music -- Bonnie Raitt and Chip Taylor/Carrie Rodriquez have been doing it for me lately.

But on two recent flights, my castle walls have been overrun by armies from the Land of Chronic Flatulence. On these flights -- every five minutes, on average -- I was administered an olfactory wake-up call. "You're not alone," it buzzed. "Active butthole within range."

On the first occasion I made noises with each new onslaught, thinking that the person could be shamed into closing down the reactor. But when I got home, I did a little searching on the web, and discovered that there are lots of people who just can't control this problem -- and that most of them are extremely embarrassed about it. So when it happened the second time, I appealed to my compassionate side and managed to stifle my moans and "Jesus F. Christs". (Yes, friends, it can stink being a liberal.)

But today I learned that there IS hope. I'm talking not about Obamania, but about Stephen Schuster. He has developed a new product that purportedly eliminates the odor of shit and ass gas [1]. He claims that after ten daily doses of Whiff [2] ("the pill that cures fecal and flatulence odor"), your shit will no longer smell.

Repeat: NO MORE SMELL.

Now, I'm not sure that is an entirely a good thing. Note that we purposefully add that rotten-egg smell to natural gas and propane to serve as a warning of a lethal leak. What would happen to us in a room full of people who all could just squeeze 'em out without fear of detection? But that worry notwithstanding, please: you flying folks with flatulence. Do us all a favor and order your bottle of Whiff today. This liberal music lover would be most appreciative.