It’s Called Darwinism…
A short epic of August 4, 2005
Preface: You know how squirrels always seem to have a death wish? How they always double back when you least expect? Well this is my tale, a tale of excitement and frustration, of laughter and of sadness. This is the tale of my first blood-thirsty murder which, surprising enough, it has nothing to do with squirrels, or blowing up any whales.
Setting: 1980 Volvo 500 DL
SE 42nd Ave.
Approximately 1:30 PM
Chapter One: Lunch
I had just finished lunch. Taco Del Mar, which means “Taco of the Sea” in Spanish. Ironically I had just consumed a Chicken burrito bringing shame to the fish-taco-gods everywhere. If Mr. Del Mar had seen me he would have been ashamed. That is if he even existed, the lazy fool. I was on my way home from my mothers place of employment when the traumatic event occurred. Nothing could have prepared me for what lay ahead.
Chapter Two: Stupid Bird
As I turned my clunky old Volvo onto 42nd Ave I saw something that brought both fear and excitement into my life. Two pigeons were enjoying a feast of some sort when my vehicle approached. Never had I been so determined. Well Perhaps with exception of that one time when I was determined to catch a duck on the pond. So enamored with catching that duck I was, that I hurled my body into the air, off of my glistening yellow flotation device that many refur to as a raft. I hit the water with a new found motivation. I swam until exausted which seemed like hours. In fact it was about thirty seconds when I discovered that the duck was far to fast for the likes of me. Facing defeat, I returned to my raft and pursued the water foul until exhausted. I apologize, you must forgive me, for I tend to distract easily. I had just spotted the pigeon, when my heart fluttered. It happened all so fast I could not tell the feathers from the road. It was as if I had escaped to a world where air was made of down and the air we breath is a toxin to the peaceful creatures who dwell there.
Chapter Three: Death…Not so far away indeed.
I had turned the corner, the pigeon in sight. One, the intelligent one, stumbled then took flight. But the other, that poor unfortunate doomed soul, did not. He simply hopped there innocently. As my car approached he made no attempt to escape his destiny. I continued to say my prayers, “fly, fly!” But unanswered they were. The car straddled the defenseless bird, as he was consumed by the underbelly of the monstrous red beast that was my Volvo.
Chapter Four: The Final Fight
As the creature disappeared from my line of sight, my sister began to scream. She seemed very discontent. Perhaps she was suffering from Post-Tramatic Stress Disorder. As I glanced to see if our victim had lived, I met with a blank stare of the empty road. My sister franticly searched behind us for signs of the pigeon. She found none. It could only be concluded that the creature was still beneath us. But moments before I could pull aside, I saw a large plum of feathers emerge from behind the vehicle. Followed by a vibrating mess. It flapped and struggled into the air, but failed after reaching two feet in height, falling effortlessly to the ground. He struggled to survive, shaking in vain, but not even I could help him now.
Chapter Five: Rationalization
It occurred to me that I had actually done pigeon-kind a favor by destroying this individual’s life. Who would in their right mind want the offspring of a creature so stupid, so as not to move out of the way of a moving vehicle. I am simply continuing the way of life that has existed for millennia and perhaps longer, that only the strongest and brightest will survive. As human beings we are obligated to enforce the law of survival. And as human beings we have been able to find ways around such laws. Through our technology, we are no longer subject to natural laws. The pigeons are responsible for their own incompetence. If they wanted to live, then they should have evolved into a smarter species with the ability to create technology.
Preface: You know how squirrels always seem to have a death wish? How they always double back when you least expect? Well this is my tale, a tale of excitement and frustration, of laughter and of sadness. This is the tale of my first blood-thirsty murder which, surprising enough, it has nothing to do with squirrels, or blowing up any whales.
Setting: 1980 Volvo 500 DL
SE 42nd Ave.
Approximately 1:30 PM
Chapter One: Lunch
I had just finished lunch. Taco Del Mar, which means “Taco of the Sea” in Spanish. Ironically I had just consumed a Chicken burrito bringing shame to the fish-taco-gods everywhere. If Mr. Del Mar had seen me he would have been ashamed. That is if he even existed, the lazy fool. I was on my way home from my mothers place of employment when the traumatic event occurred. Nothing could have prepared me for what lay ahead.
Chapter Two: Stupid Bird
As I turned my clunky old Volvo onto 42nd Ave I saw something that brought both fear and excitement into my life. Two pigeons were enjoying a feast of some sort when my vehicle approached. Never had I been so determined. Well Perhaps with exception of that one time when I was determined to catch a duck on the pond. So enamored with catching that duck I was, that I hurled my body into the air, off of my glistening yellow flotation device that many refur to as a raft. I hit the water with a new found motivation. I swam until exausted which seemed like hours. In fact it was about thirty seconds when I discovered that the duck was far to fast for the likes of me. Facing defeat, I returned to my raft and pursued the water foul until exhausted. I apologize, you must forgive me, for I tend to distract easily. I had just spotted the pigeon, when my heart fluttered. It happened all so fast I could not tell the feathers from the road. It was as if I had escaped to a world where air was made of down and the air we breath is a toxin to the peaceful creatures who dwell there.
Chapter Three: Death…Not so far away indeed.
I had turned the corner, the pigeon in sight. One, the intelligent one, stumbled then took flight. But the other, that poor unfortunate doomed soul, did not. He simply hopped there innocently. As my car approached he made no attempt to escape his destiny. I continued to say my prayers, “fly, fly!” But unanswered they were. The car straddled the defenseless bird, as he was consumed by the underbelly of the monstrous red beast that was my Volvo.
Chapter Four: The Final Fight
As the creature disappeared from my line of sight, my sister began to scream. She seemed very discontent. Perhaps she was suffering from Post-Tramatic Stress Disorder. As I glanced to see if our victim had lived, I met with a blank stare of the empty road. My sister franticly searched behind us for signs of the pigeon. She found none. It could only be concluded that the creature was still beneath us. But moments before I could pull aside, I saw a large plum of feathers emerge from behind the vehicle. Followed by a vibrating mess. It flapped and struggled into the air, but failed after reaching two feet in height, falling effortlessly to the ground. He struggled to survive, shaking in vain, but not even I could help him now.
Chapter Five: Rationalization
It occurred to me that I had actually done pigeon-kind a favor by destroying this individual’s life. Who would in their right mind want the offspring of a creature so stupid, so as not to move out of the way of a moving vehicle. I am simply continuing the way of life that has existed for millennia and perhaps longer, that only the strongest and brightest will survive. As human beings we are obligated to enforce the law of survival. And as human beings we have been able to find ways around such laws. Through our technology, we are no longer subject to natural laws. The pigeons are responsible for their own incompetence. If they wanted to live, then they should have evolved into a smarter species with the ability to create technology.
posted by X @ 1:20 PM
1 Comments:
At 3:36 AM,
Anonymous said…
Haha... ^_^
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