He was famous for his remarkable control of the abdominal muscles, which enabled him to seemingly fart at will. The profession is also referred to as "flatulist", "farteur", or "fartiste". It is a common misconception that Joseph Pujol actually passed intestinal gas as part of his stage performance. Rather, Pujol was able to "inhale" or move air into his rectum and then control the release of that air with his anal sphincter muscles. Evidence of his ability to control those muscles was seen in the early accounts of demonstrations of his abilities to fellow soldiers.
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See the full list. The incredibly true story of the legendary French entertainer Joseph Pujol, who performed impersonations with his self-described 'elastic anus' and a surfeit of wind. I think Leonard Rossiter played this role to perfection. No one else could have coped in the same way I wish I had a copy, I lost mine some time ago His facial expressions said it all. It was said that a doctor had to be present when the original artist appeared in Paris and I can well believe it as I was in serious trouble and doubled up with laughter and unable to breathe.
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Joseph Pujol, a man of singular talent, was born in Marseilles, France in He had a love for music, and over the years he became handy with a trombone, but it was a different wind instrument that led to his eventual fame and fortune. Young Joseph became alarmed one day when he was swimming in the sea, and took a deep breath before submerging. As he inhaled, he felt icy cold water entering through his rear end. He immediately returned to shore, and was astonished to see a great deal of seawater pouring from his backside. A doctor assured him that this was nothing to be concerned about, and it seems that Joseph took this advice to heart, exploring his strange new ability with a healthy curiosity.
Garrick H. Brown provides a background on this effervescent individual. So, you thought that the French obsession with Jerry Lewis was some sort of an anomaly; some, weird, inexplicable blight on a culture that is usually the epitome of the sophisticated. Well, Continentals, sit back and enjoy the absolutely true I swear! The story of a man who hobnobbed with artists like Renoir and Matisse. A genius who it is said was beloved by classical giants Ravel and Faure. A man of whom Sartre would supposedly later proclaim: "He gets it! He came from a close-knit and loving family and seemed no different than other children his age.