Reminds me of back in 1596 when Harrington flushed the first toilet. It drew audible farts from the crowd. We’d just finished a fish pottage and wine the first time I ever had the pleasure of using one. I looked over at my wife Margaret and said, “I’m quite ready.” I could hear the Bard singing yonder, songs of Gregor Gregorious The Thrice as I shat, bathed in candlelight. A glorious experience people take for granted today. I hardly left that toilet, though I nearly forgot their original name, “fudge kettle,” which my acquaintance Mrs. Elizabeth Kettle found most insulting.