The Secret Valor of Chickens

Of all the creatures in the world, the chicken is by far the most brave. For anyone that gives this any sort of thought, it should be obvious. Yet, sadly, chickens have gathered a bad name. In fact, they have gained a name meaning the opposite of brave. They are generally thought of as, well, chicken.

Why did the chicken cross the road? Was it to get to the other side? Or perhaps it was running from a huge evil monster and the road just happened to be in the way. Without asking it, we'll never know. And if we do ask it, it probably won't tell. Chickens are wonderful at keeping secrets. No matter how much you threaten, no matter how much you try to get an answer from them, a chicken won't talk. A chicken will never share a secret. I know people that've blabbed because someone looked at them meanly. But, no, a chicken you can always trust.

If only more people could be chickens.

That would solve a multitude of our problems, not the least of which being that people are stupid. Even if they're a stupid chicken, who's going to give a chicken a job keeping track of The Red Button? Who's going to trust a chicken, of any intelligence, with escorting a visiting princess around town? Who's going to give a chicken any of these fun jobs that I think I'd like to try someday? Nobody. So if more people were chickens instead of people, the world would be a better place. Because people, as chickens, could be stupid without harming the rest of us.

Until it is realized just how special chickens really are. Then they might be voted in as our overlords. In which case I wouldn't want the stupid people to be chickens any longer. But if the people could turn into chickens, there wouldn't be much standing in the way at that point to turn them all into ducks, or tuna, or maybe an amoeba or three.

Yeah, more people should be chickens. At least then they'd be able to properly /earn/ their bad name.

*thunk* Is it Dead? Is it Dead?

Windows (of the glass, not computer, variety), sliding glass doors, stained-glass and glazed, there are degrees of goodness for these. There isn't much nicer than a nice breeze, and when that breeze is through a slightly-too-warm apartment, it's even better. Opening windows and doors on either end allowing the wind a way through is hard to beat.

These are very good windows.

Seeing out the front of a car, watching rain find its way down a window on a spring day, huge fishtanks in an aquarium (and smaller fishtanks in peoples' houses). There are all wonderful uses of glass, great places for windows to exist. But these aren't generally as good of windows as those above. Well, maybe the front window in a car, something to keep the bugs out of your teeth. But these windows are closed--you can't reach through and /feel/ the rain, you can't pet the fish. You're being held behind a pane of glass, unable to interact with things on the other side.

All day long, I sit in front of a closed window. All day long I can only imagine the feeling of wind in my face, the sound of the rain or the smell of freshly-cut grass. All day long the window mocks me as I am forced to stay inside on such a lovely day. While I do get sunlight, I still long to be able to open the windows.

And then, when a bird runs into our window, I realize I'm not the only one that wishes they weren't there.