Of Castes and Cannibalism

Yesterday, while sitting at an open air café and eating a very pleasant chicken salad, two pigeons came pecking for food and I indulged them. They enjoyed the celery and carrots, but seemed to like the chicken best; they were soon squabbling over little bits of it.

Worried about the ethical conundrum that this presented, I brought it up to my mother when she came to meet me.

“Have I done something wrong?” I asked her worriedly. “Am I inducing barbaric habits in their society?”

“I think so,” she said, looking at the expensive, thickly dressed chicken salad (that she paid for) with chagrin, “You’ve just fed a rich person to a couple of beggars.”


HAH! Trust jaded adults to worry about the class implications rather than the idealistic concerns of the socially-concious youth.

Although, I’m not even sure chickens and pigeons really come under the same group of organisms… it would be like apes and humans, the chickens just peck around and stupidly hang with each other while the pigeons squat on rooftops and statues, slowly plotting the coup d’etat that will win them the world. After all, if they would so unflinchingly eat a member of their brethren, they must have grisly plans ahead.

I can almost imagine an initiation ritual in which pigeon one says to pigeon two (with an Italian mafia accent):

“Come on, eh Luigi. Don’t be such a boid-brained chickenshit. Just eat the damn poultry without gaggin'. Attaboy. Now you’re ready to take down the people.”


In other news, I feel like getting unbelievably drunk and throwing up on my philo tutor’s shoes.
We’ll see how it goes.