There’s no such thing as bad breath. If there was, we’d say that some folks had “good breath,” too, or maybe we’d have some sort of rating system in between, from superior or exquisite breath to satisfactory or competent breath. Nevertheless, we seem to have no lack of synonyms for the “bad” in bad breath — words like “atrocious,” “repellant,” “skunky,” and “hellaciously fetid” come to mind. But when it comes to breath, we ought to recognize that “bad” is really just a cultural value judgement. I’m certain that, in some colorful country somewhere, the odor of a goat’s ass emanating from one’s mouth is a sign of fine distinction.

Think about it. It’s not the breathing that’s bad. If it was, they’d make lung mints and everyone would smell of vapo-rub when they spoke. No, “bad breath” is a clever euphemism we use when we really want to say: “I believe my nose has detected evidence that something has died inside your upper gastrointestinal tract.” Whether it’s gum disease or something rotten that you recently ate — or a symptom of some larger systemic failure altogether, like gangrene of the throat — much of the unpleasantness of one’s mouth odor stems from its ghostly association with death and disease. From unhealthy dental habits to simply the rotting tissues of old age, bad breath is bad because our culture likes to celebrate health — fresh, minty life — not death.

And death stinks. Do you really expect your last breath to be minty-fresh?

Of course, some malodorous breath stems from eating foods that are unfamiliar to the nose. You can blow pepperoni and beer in my face all you like, and I’ll forgive you, but if I detect anchovies and J