I decided to take his advice and start the day by letting that cock bird out of the small enclosure.
Old Control Freak Joel has trouble letting go of controlled situations, usually to the point where they do more harm than good. But in this case I have a bird who’s almost certainly going to end up in a stewpot soon anyway, so he gets to be the chicken in the coal mine. That there are wedgies in his immediate future is beyond doubt, in fact by the time I got the camera they already had him desperate to get back inside his enclosure. But he’s just being a drama chick; the hens are actually taking it fairly easy on him so far.
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They say that Louis XIV had the inscription Ultima Ratio Regum cast into all the cannon of the French Army. It means “The Ultimate Argument of Kings,” and that always struck me as one of the most honest and up-front things any ruler or would-be ruler ever said. “We can dress it up prettier than this, but when it comes down to the unvarnished truth this is what it’s about: You’ll do as I say or I’ll send my goons to kill you.”
I thought about that for a long time. If there’s an ultimate argument, it seems only logical that there must be an ultimate answer. For years I thought the ultimate answer must be the bullets in my rifle, but it never seemed quite right. I’ve got bullets – he’s got frigging Cannon Balls. I mean, if there were three hundred million rifles throwing bullets at him, then maybe. But we all know that’s not going to happen. So if there’s an ultimate answer to his ultimate argument, it sure as hell ain’t bullets.
It finally came to me – and that’s when I abandoned the city and most of my stuff, and gave all that was behind me a good stiff Randian Shrug.
The ultimate answer to kings is not a bullet, but a belly laugh.
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All day I’ve felt like I have reached out from 1000 miles and touched this poor unsuspecting little beastie. And not necessarily in a good way.
So how is it going?
Oh, I put him back in after a few hours. The hens just punked him a few times, nothing serious, perfectly routine measures to establish his place at the extreme bottom of the pecking order, but after that he was clearly prepared to spend the rest of his life hiding behind the small coop.
In the morning I’ll shoo them all out for a while.