The gas trapped in the lower digestive track is a combination of swallowed air, carbonated liquids, such as beer or soda, and gases from the chemical breakdown of foods by bacteria. These gases are usually forms of hydrogen sulfites and methane, and depending on the bacteria strain and chemical composition of the nutriment, it can produce a rancid odor. The exit of this concoction through the anus can produce audible sound waves that are a result of vibrating sphincter muscle and varies in intensity with the volume of the gas. All of these fluctuations are deep rooted in human development. As an embryo embedded in the uterus, the fetus evolves near the bladder and the colon that exits into the rectum. The mother is bombarded with hormones that cause her caloric intake to increase because she is now eating for two (unless she’s Octomom, and then she’s eating for nine). This explains the pickles and ice cream cravings. Along with all that gastric surplus comes a zeppelin load of gas. Contrary to the urban legend that women don’t fart, they are tossing that little tot all over the uterus like a rodeo rider on a rambunctious steed. Over time, the little tike enjoys the stimuli, and starts kicking mama if she falls short in the fart department. Along with all the motion is an ocean of sound emanating from the exit portal that introduces us to ‘mammal music’. This symphony of ass trumpets gives us our basic love of music and is a universal constant in all cultures, clans, and kindred. The tempo, amplification, articulation, and phasing along with timbre and attack speed can produce a warehouse of turd tunes. If timed correctly, a fart is funny in all languages, but if dispersed at an improper moment, could get you ostracized immediately. So, mothers of planet earth, eat to your hormones content. You may be the architect of the next Mozart or baby Amadeus that is tumbling around inside of you, thanks to the sphincter songs that your ass orchestrates.