Monday, November 23, 2009
Beer Philosophers #4: You're a Chicken
"I saw an interesting news story today."
"Oh?"
"Yeah. They're doing a study on whether chickens are unhappy when they're raised in cages to lay eggs."
"I wonder what it feels like to lay an egg."
"Remember when you ate all that popcorn?"
"Oh."
"Anyway, they're wondering if the chickens essentially go insane."
"Chickens always look kind of insane to me. Making their heads go like this. Like this. Like this."
"The animal rights people are screaming that farmers pack nine chickens in a cage. They can't move or spread their wings."
"...and they scratch. And scratch. And scratch."
"Dude. Sit down. You're freaking me out."
"Sorry."
"The farmers, on the other hand, claim the chickens dig it. Very calm and comfortable. Because the chickens are caged right after birth. They never know anything different. Kind of cozy."
"Awww. I like cozy."
"Dude. Seriously."
"Sorry."
"Here's the important part. Are you listening? Think about getting into that cage. Think about how important that precise moment is."
"I'm thinking that's the moment I run."
"You're standing in line with all those newly hatched chicks. Farmer comes along and onetwothreefourfivesixseveneightnine. That's it. Game over. You're whole universe mapped out in the count of nine."
"I suppose you can't trade anybody off later."
"Nope."
"I'd probably get the guy who farts."
"Exactly! Nine bodies shoulder to shoulder. Up close and personal."
"I guess I wouldn't get the 'guy' who farts. Male chickens don't lay eggs, right?"
"You might totally luck out and get some super cool chickens to hang with. You could rag on the boss. 'Stick this one in your omelet, asshole!' Or, you could get eight of the most stupid, evil, grotesque chickens that ever graced a McNugget."
"I don't want to be a chicken."
"Not if you have to live in a cage, man."
"Amen."
"But then again, are we so different? We only meet who we're going to meet, and that's it. More than nine, yes. But most of us stop trying after a while, don't we?"
"I stopped with you."
"And our cage is just a lot harder to see."
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19 comments:
That's some pretty deep beer philosophy right there.
I guess that's why some of us travel.
actually some very true words there near the end...
mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm....eggs
- only ever buy 'free range' myself. The box says "Happy Eggs from Happy Chickens"
How the hell can you tell if a chicken's happy???
ain't I green then?....;-)
lot harder to see.
that bit was so plain true that i burst out laughing at the end of it
*wipes tears of mirth*
as always, you're a bundle of surprise and fun.
;)
Wow, these are some deep thoughts spun over spilled beer.
Stop trying? No, not I.
The thought of animals in cages makes me sad.
Death to cages!
A more serious beer conversation, this one. Or I think that it got more serious right toward the end. I started off reading this and these two guys both turned into chickens themselves, and it was like listening to chickens cluck cluck away. And that was funny. And then, all of a sudden, the serious voices. Don't know if it was me or the piece, but something kind of dark jumped in.
Jason, you crack me up! Those beer philosophers are just who I want to invite to my Christmas dinner. Can they come?
Terri, beer loosens the tongue.
Shadow, sometimes they have some good points. :)
Four Dinners, I tend to think that if the chickens really went insane, they'd rip each other apart. We would.
Meghana, I love being full of suprise and fun!
Sage, I'd like to hang with them. My kind of discussion.
Jean, yes, down with cages. And I think it's good to keep trying.
Nevine, the second speaker was definitely in a silly mood. Yes, there is darkness here. But also a sense of defiance. We build our own cages, after all.
Tabitha, just point them in the right direction. :)
You couldn't help yourself! The beer may have loosened the tongue, but your philosopher became more...well...philosophical this time! that ending brings it all home.
Hilariously poignant - now there's an oxymoron for you :)
I may be mistaken in my thinking but I consider myself to be free range. As to whether I be avian or human *shrug* someone else can figure that out.
and they scratch. And scratch. And scratch."
"Dude. Sit down. You're freaking me out."
I Lol'd at this part. A very interesting discussion, for sure.
The guys are at it again! Does their general inclination to discuss the nature of reality make them drink, or does the drinking make them philosophical? lol - entertaining Jason!
Karen, you're right. I really can't help myself. ;)
Misinterpreted Wave, I love that oxymoron! That fits rather well.
Walking Man, are you free range in your formation of relationships with others or is that comfort zone fairly cemented in?
Meghan, I have to admit that I giggled myself.
Kaye, what a great question! I kind of think that the drive to philosophize spurs the drinking.
catching up on your writing, and hello once again!
just as an a-side - why did the chicken cross the road halfway?
to 'lay it on the line' :p
Jason...I am free range and my comfort zone encompasses all that I can see with my eye, no matter if I look up or down, left or right.
Very good, how true to life this is ... we all live in cages, but do tell, how do one go about getting out? Oh I know, the internet? Naw, that's just a glass cage with no air.
I can see why some of us are so satisfied with the status quo --, it's no wonder there is so much misunderstanding and hatred in our world (cage)!
I so enjoyed reading this! I think you should title the book with these wonderful dialogues --- "Twisted Wisdom"!
Those are the two sanest people on earth!
We all become the "No man" sooner or later and cozy up in our nest. I for one know, I should become a hell more of a "Yes man". Working on it.
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