February 23, 2013
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Deep in the rain forest, a gentle cracking is heard above the roar of the nearby waterfall. The sun rises turning the mist into a bejeweled rainbow. A small beak pecks to break free from the ovoid laying among the leaf litter. The anxious mother paces back and forth as the father takes to the limbs to crow about the impending birth. (It is his first child after all.) More of the little creature is emerging from the creamy ovoid. The bright yellow beak is chipping away more and more of the prison it is encased in. The mother pauses in her high-stepping pacing. She looks down at herself. She takes in the opalescent beauty of her blue-black feathers. Her beak is a burnt orange. She is as vibrant as the sun itself. The father is not too shabby himself. He is a sleek royal blue with feathers that look like they have been dipped in liquid amethysts. In high school he was the most popular guy, a true cock of the walk, and he chose her. She had been in love with Henry for as long as she could remember. They had been together a long time except that short time she wanted to prove that she had options and went to the movies with John. (John was a mistake. He just couldn’t understand why she wouldn’t commit to a lifetime with him. He was dull. All he wanted to squawk about was his own supposed superiority.) She looked back at her child just as it was fully emerging from the ovoid. It was undersized and had scraggly white and tan feathers. There was no one in her family that looked like that and as far as she knew there was no one in Henry’s family that resembled this scrawny child. (She is hoping no one in John’s family looks like this either.) While all of these thoughts are running through her mind, the child looks up at her with enormous black eyes and its bright yellow beak. Her heart immediately overflows with love. She thinks of how she is going to have to take extra special care of her special little one. She wonders how different the child’s life will be from the other children hatching all around. She is afraid that others will not treat her baby kindly because it looks so different with its stubby tail feathers and squat frame. The child asks her, ” Mother, are you unhappy to see me? You look so sad.” The mother looks down at her baby and smiles. In that moment, she realizes that her child is brilliant. She realizes that her child can ken things that most babies cannot. She responds, “I am not unhappy. I was worried that you may end up unhappy and lonely because you are not like the rest of us. I see now that I have no need to fear for you are magnificent in your own way.” She decided to name her child in the way of the ancestors. She named the baby The Child Who Can Ken All (Ken for short). As the child got older there were times when it was made to feel as an outsider but only by an ignorant few. The child grew fat and happy from love. Those who knew the child well nicknamed him Child Ken because the whole name was a lot to say. When the child got into high school, he joined a band. His name was shortened even more to Chi Ken (pronounced Shy-Ken). The band became one of the greatest rock groups of all time. Maybe you have heard of Leonard Skinnard? The glories of Chi Ken have been repeated through the ages, passed down through families like mine. Unfortunately due to changes in language, most people mispronounce Chi Ken’s name. Due to the mispronunciation, the spelling of the name has been formalized into Chicken.
This is how I know the egg came before the Chicken.