>  -----------------------------------
 >  Why did the chicken cross the road?
 >  -----------------------------------
 >  
 >  Aristotle      : To actualize its potential.
 >  Roseanne Barr  : Urrrrrp.  What chicken?
 >  George Bush    : To face a kinder, gentler thousand points of headlights.
 >  Julius Caesar  : To come, to see, to conquer.
 >  Candide        : To cultivate its garden.
 >  Bill the Cat   : Oop Ack.
 >  Buddha         : If you ask this question, you deny your own chicken-nature.
 >  Moses          : Know ye that it is unclean to eat the chicken that has
 >                   crossed the road, and that the chicken that crosseth the road
 >                   doth so for its own preservation.
 >  Joseph Conrad:   Mistah Chicken, he dead.
 >  Howard Cosell:   It may very well have been one of the most astonishing events
 >                   to grace the annals of history.  An historic, unprecedented
 >                   avian biped with the temerity to attempt such an herculean
 >                   achievement formerly relegated to homo sapiens pedestrians is
 >                   truly a remarkable occurrence.
 >  Salvador Dali  : The Fish.
 >  Darwin         : It was the logical next step after coming down from the trees.
 >  Thomas Dequincy: Because it ran out of opium.
 >  Rene Descartes : It had sufficient reason to believe it was dreaming anyway.
 >  Emily Dickinson: Because it could not stop for death.
 >  Bob Dylan      : How many roads must one chicken cross?
 >  TS Eliot       : Weialala leia / Wallala leialala.
 >  TS Eliot (revisited): Do I dare to cross the road?
 >  Epicures       : For fun.
 >  Paul Erdos     : It was forced to do so by the chicken-hole principle.
 >  Ralph Waldo Emerson: It didn't cross the road; it transcended it.
 >  Basil Fawlty   : Oh, don't mind that chicken. It's from Barcelona.
 >  Gerald R. Ford : It probably fell from an airplane and couldn't stop its
 >                   forward momentum.
 >  Sigmund Freud  : The chicken obviously was female and obviously
 >                   interpreted the pole on which the crosswalk sign was
 >                   mounted as a phallic symbol of which she was envious,
 >                   selbstverstaendlich.
 >  Robert Frost   : To cross the road less traveled by.
 >  Zsa Zsa Gabor  : It probably crossed to get a better look at my legs, which,
 >                   thank goodness, are good, dahling.
 >  Gilligan       : The traffic started getting rough; the chicken had to cross.
 >                   If not for the plumage of its peerless tail the chicken would
 >   		 be lost, the chicken would be lost!
 >  Johann Friedrich von Goethe: The eternal hen-principle made it do it.
 >  Ernest Hemingway : To die. In the rain.
 >  Werner Heisenberg: We are not sure which side of the road the chicken was on,
 >                     but it was moving very fast.
 >  Adolf Hitler   : It needed Lebensraum.
 >  David Hume     : Out of custom and habit.
 >  Saddam Hussein : This was an unprovoked act of rebellion and we were quite
 >                   justified in dropping 50 tons of nerve gas on it.
 >  Lee Iacocca    : It found a better car, which was on the other side of the road
 >  John Paul Jones    : It has not yet begun to cross!
 >  Martin Luther King : It had a dream.
 >  James Tiberius Kirk: To boldly go where no chicken has gone before.
 >  Stan Laurel        : I'm sorry, Ollie. It escaped when I opened the run.
 >  Leda               : Are you sure it wasn't Zeus dressed up as a chicken?
 >                       He's into that kind of thing, you know.
 >  Gottfried Von Leibniz: In this best possible world, the road was made for it
 >                         to cross.
 >  Groucho Marx   : Chicken? What's all this talk about chicken?  Why, I had an
 >                   uncle who thought he was a chicken.  My aunt almost divorced
 >                   him, but we needed the eggs.
 >  Karl Marx      : To escape the bourgeois middle-class struggle.
 >  Gregor Mendel  : To get various strains of roads.
 >  John Milton    : To justify the ways of God to men.
 >  Alfred E. Neumann : What? Me worry?
 >  Sir Isaac Newton : Chickens at rest tend to stay at rest. Chickens in motion
 >                     tend to cross the road.
 >  Jack Nicholson : 'Cause it (censored) wanted to.  That's the (censored) reason.
 >  Thomas Paine   : Out of common sense.
 >  Michael Palin  : Nobody expects the banished inky chicken!
 >  Wolfgang Pauli : There already was a chicken on the other side of the road.
 >  Pyrrho the Skeptic: What road?
 >  Ronald Reagan  : I forget.
 >  Georg Friedrich Riemann: The answer appears in Dirichlet's lectures.
 >  John Sununu    : The Air Force was only too happy to provide the transportation,
 >                   so quite understandably the chicken availed himself of the
 >                   opportunity.
 >  Mr. Scott: 'Cos ma wee transport0er beam was na functioning properly. Ah 
 >             canna work miracles, Captain!  
 >  William Shakespeare: I don't know why, but methinks I could rattle off a
 >                       hundred-line soliloquy without much ado.
 >  Sisyphus: Was it pushing a rock, too?
 >  Socrates: To pick up some hemlock at the corner druggist.
 >  Mr. T: If you saw me coming you'd cross the road too!
 >  Margaret Thatcher: There was no alternative.
 >  Dylan Thomas: To not go (sic) gentle into that good night.
 >  Henry David Thoreau: To live deliberately ... and suck all the marrow out of
 >                       life.
 >  Mark Twain: The news of its crossing has been greatly exaggerated.
 >  George Washington: Actually it crossed the Delaware with me back in 1776. But
 >                     most history books don't reveal that I bunked with a birdie
 >                     during the duration.
 >  Mae West: I invited it to come up and see me sometime.
 >  Walt Whitman: To cluck the song of itself.
 >  William Wordsworth: To have something to recollect in tranquility.
 >  Molly Yard: It was a hen!
 >  Henny Youngman: Take this chicken ... please.
 >  Zeno of Elea: To prove it could never reach the other side.
 >  Paul de Man: The chicken did not really cross the road because one side and
 >               the other are not really opposites in the first place.
 >  Paul de Man: (uncovered after his death) So no one would find out it wrote for
 >               a collaborationist Belgian newspaper during the early years of
 >               World War II.
 >  Jacques Lacan: Because of its desire for *object a*.
 >  Roland Barthes: The chicken wanted to expose the myth of the road,
 >  Michel Foucault: It did so because the discourse of crossing the road left it
 >                   no choice-the police state was oppressing it.
 >  Jacques Derrida: What is the *differance?* The chicken was merely deferring
 >                   from one side of the road to other. And how do we get the
 >                   idea of the chicken in the first place? Does it exist outside
 >                   of language?
 >  Camille Paglia: It was drawn by the subconscious chthonian power of the
 >                  feminine which men can never understand, to cross the road and
 >                  focus itself on its task.  Hens are not capable of doing
 >                  this-their minds do not work that way. Feminism  tries vainly
 >                  to pretend there is no real difference between them, falsely
 >                  following Rousseau. But de Sade has proved....
 >  Ayn Rand: It was crossing the road *because of its own rational choice to do
 >            so. There cannot be a collective unconscious; desires are unique to
 >            each individual.
 >  Immanuel Kant: Because it was a duty.
 >  James Joyce: Once upon a time a nicens little chicken named baby tuckoo
 >               crossed the road and met a moocow coming down...
 >  James Joyce: To forge in the smithy of its soul the uncreated conscience of
 >               its race.
 >  Leopold Bloom: Wonder why chickens cross roads. Must be some law. Migration
 >                maybe. Mrs. Marion Bloom.
 >  Molly Bloom: the chicken crossed the road well Poldy I dont know why why do
 >               you worry about such stupid bloody things O speaking of stupid
 >               bloody things here it comes again damn it its only been three
 >               weeks I wonder is there something wrong with me yes
 >  The Sphinx:  You tell me.
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

Wil Stark, wstark04 (at) pobox _dot_com

---

Back to home page...