2004-12-02 7:51 p.m. A chicken on one side of the road watched with amazement as a fellow chicken, with an air of nonchalance, casually walked across the width of the asphalt conveyance and came to a stop next to him. "Sir," said the first chicken to the one who had just crossed, "your journey has left me in a state of curiousity which cannot be appeased except through the asking of questions of you, which I hope you'll forgive me for, despite the fact that we are not acquainted and have not been introduced. It is an imposition, to be sure, but I have been moved, sir." The crossing chicken nodded solemnly. "For years, I have seen you on your side of the street. There have been uncountable vehicles that have occasionally interrupted that view momentarily, but in all that time, your presence was a given. And I have remained here. And that was the way that it was." The crossing chicken scratched at the dirt, but made it obvious that it was listening. "And yet today, just these few minutes ago, something drove you to cross that road. I would know what drove you to make the trek, sir, if the thing that compelled you to such an action is something that can be put into words and conveyed to another." The crossing chicken took a deep breath. Then answered: "I crossed that road because it was there. And because I had spent years on that side. I of a sudden sensed my whole life stretching out ahead of me, a void of days, a quotidian rack upon which I was stretched, never to know anything but my half of the road. And so I felt compelled to choose between the void I knew and the void I did not. I made the leap as an act of optimism. Hoping that the new would bring me some pleasure that was lacking in the old." "Fascinating," said the interrogating chicken. "I begin to understand. But my questioning was to serve a dual purpose. Because while I wanted to know your motivation, I also wanted to make you aware that this side of the street is mine, bitch. You can't just come over here whenever you like." The clucking chicken said, "But I have." And the other chicken said, "Let me tell you something of the horrors I have seen in the days before coming to this side of the road. When I was fresh from the egg, I had my beak seared off by humans. I was then raised in close quarters with relatives and strangers, made aware by the secret story-telling of our elders that those who had come before us had been de-limbed and devoured, sometimes in sweet and tangy sauces." "What is 'sweet and tangy'?" asked the crossing chicken. Another chicken wandered up from the brush along the side of the road. "Hey, new guy. Is this motherfucker telling you about how he escaped from the farm? Motherfucker tells everybody about that. Same as he tells everyone to get back on the other side of the road. Don't listen to his shit. He can't start nuthin'. Motherfucker doesn't even have a beak." A solitary tear rolled down the beakless bird's cheek as he quivered with rage. "Everybody else in the world gets a free ride. Everybody just goes where they want and it's anarchy and sickness." "Yup. That's about the size of it, motherfucker. Hey, new guy, wanna go find some worms." The crossing chicken wobbled over, his gizzard tossing rocks around in anticipation. He looked back over his shoulder to the beakless bird. "You want to know why I crossed that road? I'll tell you. I crossed that road because your mother is over on this side somewhere and I intend to make her brood my children. And every one of them will be raised to mock its beakless brother." "DAMN, bitch! He just said that about your MOMMA! You know... just once you should try to be nice to chickens that cross the road." The beakless chicken scratched and flapped and yelled a string of curses. Cars drove by and drowned him out. On the other side of the street were more chickens. They were making no indication that they wanted to come over. |
1. today is nice 3. happy yesterdays 8. thanks for hosting 4. doing other things |
(Proof that I am the only one reading.) |