Chicken Shit

Chicken

So I went down to the chicken run at the bottom of the garden to have a bit of a talk with the old chickens. Enlighten them a bit, if you know what I mean. Help them to see the light. I found them there doing the usual kind of stuff, clucking and scratching around in the dirt the way they always do. “Ok listen up you chickens,” I said, “I’m going to talk to you about Plato’s allegory of the cave, right?” So I launched right into it, explaining about how there were all these prisoners, chained up in the cave in such a way that they can’t turn their heads around to look behind them, and how the only thing they can ever see is the play of the shadows on the wall of the cave that a fire behind them is casting, and all that. I squatted down in on the ground with them, making what I thought was a pretty good job of elucidating the esoteric meaning that underlies this famous philosophical allegory. Going over the key points to help them understand.

 

Did they listen? Did they fuck. They just carried on clucking and scratching just the same as they ever did. In fact they took very little notice of my presence amongst them at all, apart from occasionally pecking at my socks. Then all of a sudden a hen flew up on my head and before I could throw her off she crapped right down the back of my neck. That did it for me. That was the final straw. Is this how they repay me for the gift of wisdom, I raged. Didn’t these bloody chickens realize that there was more to life than running around clucking like feathered fools and scratching about in the dirt? Didn’t they even have the SLIGHTEST bit of interest in looking beyond the crap of their abysmally banal everyday lives? Doing the same old thing they always do, day in day out? I looked at them in utter disgust. “That’s the very last time I waste my time with you, you fool chickens!” I yelled at them, and stormed off back to the house, in foul form. Just then my sternest critic, the wise old duck from the duck pond, flew up and landed in a bit of heap in front of me. “It’s not the chickens who are foolish Nick,” it quacked, convulsed with laughter on the lawn, “Its YOU! You are a total fucking moron!”

 

 

 

 

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.