Robert F. Kennedy Jr. Press Dinner Derailed By Intense Farting

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Mara Siegler of the New York Post's Page Six found herself at a dinner to boost Robert F. Kennedy Jr.'s presidential campaign on the Upper East Side last night and witnessed history as a great meeting of the minds spiraled into a shouting match full of farting. And the resulting piece is worthy of all the journalistic awards as well as being frozen in amber as the exact moment we all lost our way.

The gaseous exchange — to which Page Six bore reluctant witness — began after a guest asked Kennedy, founder of the ecological organization Waterkeeper Alliance, about the environment.

And it seems that the mere inquiry was enough to set off apparently drunk gossip-columnist-turned-flak Doug Dechert, the host of the event, who became enraged and screamed at the top of his lungs: “The climate hoax!”

Meanwhile, octogenarian art critic Anthony Haden-Guest, who appeared to have been sleeping happily for most of the dinner, was roused by the abrupt rumpus.

Haden-Guest suddenly opened his eyes and denounced his longtime pal, Dechert, calling him a “miserable blob.”

“Shut up!” implored Haden-Guest.

If this all sounds like a particularly unpleasant ring of Dante's hell, please know that it would get much, much dumber. Dechert would soon began channeling a Danny McBride character with the knob turned up to 11.

Here, it seems, Dechert sensed the need for a new rhetorical tack, and let rip a loud, prolonged fart while yelling, as if to underscore his point, “I’m farting!”

The room, which included a handful of journalists as well as RFK Jr.’s campaign manager, former Rep. Dennis Kucinich, was stunned, seemingly unsure about whether Dechert was farting at Haden-Guest personally or at the very notion of global warming.

We should pause here to appreciate the vivid imagery Page Six employs and the spectacular turns of phrase. It feels like a bit of a relic from a bygone era but then something like two old guys literally and figuratively filling their diapers comes along and serves as the perfect muse to match form and function. It's all so ridiculous and yet it makes a lot of sense that these are the people surrounding RFK Jr. as he tries to build a monetary war chest and be taken seriously.

Dechert told us when asked to comment about his, er, outburst the next day: “I apologize for using my flatulence as a medium of public commentary in your presence.”

(He also asked us to refer to him either as a “gallivanting boulevardier” or a “beer-fueled sex rocket.”)

Man, I don't even know how you, the reader, goes on with your day now. A hilarious shirtless prison workout seems incredibly tame and well-adjusted in comparison. What a damn country we have here.