Fowl Play

Dear Dame Wotta Tripp,
We have all heard the old canard about “Why did the chicken cross the road?

I have researched this matter comprehensively, questioned many witnesses, and delved right to the root of this age-old question.

I have been unable to uncover any definitive proof that the chicken did actually cross the road.

There were many reports of the chicken walking along the side of the road (indeed , one staggering along the side of the road, probably due to the ingestion of fermenting grain ); dozens of accounts of the chicken walking away from the road, and just one case where the chicken was observed sitting in the middle of the road. In the latter incident the witness did not actually see the bird proceeding from the side of the road to the centre, therefore any subsequent movement of the bird to the side of the road could constitute a return rather than the completion of a traverse.

This being so, I believe I can fairly state that this old canard is "out for a duck".

For the purposes of this exercise I have defined “road" as being any designated route with common access to the public and so used.

If any of your readers wish further debate on this subject doubtless you will allow them access to your excellent site.

Stephen F*wler

Dear Stephen,
I myself censored your name. It may be your real name, in which case I apologize, but judging from the puns I detected in your letter it could just be an ill-justified grab for attention which I won’t tolerate in my column.

Although I agree that my site is excellent, thank you, I am left wondering what it is you want advice with. I fail to detect a problem concerning chickens, although I am not so sure about your self.

As far as chickens traversing roads, I feel you may have been double-crossed. Have you considered the chicken’s reality? Does any chicken in actuality cross a road, is it aware of a road, and might the road in fact cross the chicken? Does the chicken even really exist at the level we believe we may perceive it at?

A particular friend of mine is Mother Goose. She is a fount of cryptic wisdom and if anyone knows, it will be her. Next time I take chocolate with her I shall ask her.

On the one hand I do not wish my advice column, which was created to aid the desperately and pitifully inept, to become a forum for the discussion of poultry. I am as I write to you also struggling with my answer to an elderly lady who failed to say no to a small flood of ostriches in her youth and is now burdened with thousands of the birds, resenting them so thoroughly in light of her wasted life that she is at this moment considering how she may bring about their demise.

On the other hand, I do detect a keen scientific interest in certain esoteric subjects and encourage you to explore this unusual and slightly dangerous fetish elsewhere.

Ask and the internet shall provide: A kind soul pointed out to me only recently that there are at least two online groups whose only purpose is to collect audio recordings of human hiccups. You may do well to curb your roadside explorations and curtail your appetite for tales of poultry traveling and instead join a secure group of online poultry fanciers. There are probably hundreds of them, with ratings from general to adult. Who knows where this may lead?.

I am also worried that your letter and invitation for input will prompt a flood of mischievous letters and comments regarding birds, and then I may have to deal with people harshly. Readers, be warned! I don’t always like being forced to punish people, but I will if it becomes necessary.

Regards
Dame Wotta Tripp.