Fire and rain do it. So do cobras, kettles, whirlpools and penises. They all spit. And spit spits too, when you spit on fire. Spit’s everywhere. It’s as common as dirt. Given that billions of mammals produce spit everyday, if you put us all together we make a living sea of spit. And that doesn’t include the blood, nails, feathers, words and vomit we spit out. We swear by spit: Standing on the spit jutting out into the water, the man says, “I’m so fed up with those blasted people I could spit.” And when he does, he’s just spitting in the wind.
None of this would amount to a bucket of spit if all spit had the same value. But alas, there is a hierarchy of spit that extends all the way from the gutters to the heavens, from the deadly to the divine: