A tour de force of writing styles

You don’t need to read an author’s body of work to understand their writing style.

I can give you a page – or a paragraph – from a famous writer and you can probably guess who it is. Well, if they’re famous enough.

A little experiment: How would some famous authors and celebrities answer the question, “Why did the chicken cross the road?

ERNEST HEMINGWAY:
To die. In the rain. Alone.

THE BIBLE:
And God came down from the heavens and He said unto the chicken, “Thou shalt cross the road.” And the chicken crossed the road and there was much rejoicing.

ARISTOTLE:
It is the nature of chickens to cross the road.

CAPTAIN JAMES T. KIRK:
To boldly go where no chicken has gone before.

FREUD:
The fact that you are at all concerned that the chicken crossed the road reveals your underlying sexual insecurity.

RALPH WALDO EMERSON:
The chicken did not cross the road. It transcended it.

BUDDHA:
Asking this question denies your own chicken nature.

MACHIAVELLI:
The point is that the chicken crossed the road. Who cares why? The end of crossing the road justifies whatever motive there was.

KARL MARX:
It was a historical inevitability.

BILL O’ REILLY:
To steal a job from a decent, hardworking American.

DR. SEUSS:
Did the chicken cross the road? Did he cross it with a toad? Yes! The chicken crossed the road. Why it crossed, I’ve not been told.

GRANDPA:
In my day, we didn’t ask why the chicken crossed the road. Someone told us that the chicken had crossed the road, and that was good enough for us.

New bonus answers:

BILL GATES:
I have just released the new Chicken 7, which will not only cross roads, but will also lay eggs, file your important documents, balance your checkbook and compete with Apple’s Smooth Eagle.

JERRY SEINFELD:
Why does anyone cross a road? I mean, why doesn’t anyone ever think to ask, “What the heck was this chicken doing walking around all over the place, anyway? What is wrong with that chicken?

PARIS HILTON:
Huh?

Golden eagle: the honey badger of birds

The shocking video of a giant flipping golden eagle, soaring in like some kind of pterodactyl, which I can’t even spell, to snatch a toddler — well, that thing may or may not be a total fake.

Watch it and decide.

Not fake is this long nature video of a golden eagle killing and eating MOUNTAIN GOATS.

I am not making that up. Why bother hunting rats, rabbits, purse dogs belonging to Paris Hilton, wolves, tiny humans and anything else under 33 pounds — why even mess with such trifling things when you can take out giant goats, and do so using jedi bird mastery of gravity?

We should remember three things: (1) birds are feathered dinosaurs, (2) golden eagles are like mini velicoraptors WHO CAN FLY and (3) if you have one as a pet, I am not cleaning the bird cage.

Bonus video: a rundown, with all kinds of scientific numbers and such about the golden eagle, truly the honey badger of birds. (Though in a fight, I’m putting a purple euro on the honey badger.)

Psycho killer raccoons terrorize Olympia … and Tacoma, and Seattle

Many moons ago, when the Series of Tubes was young, the Associated Press ran one of the best headlines IN THE HISTORY OF MAN.

Here it is:

Psycho killer raccoons terrorize Olympia

Now, since this is where I work, and my buddy Larry of the Palouse lived in this neighborhood at that time, we lost our minds. Because it was funny and insane and somewhat scary, if you had little pookies, puppies or cats.

This gang of raccoons was truly bloodthirsty. I could picture a horror movie, PSYCHO KILLER RACCOONS, being far more scary and realistic than 90 percent of the teen slasher films Hollywood pumps out.

Now, not far from Olympia, we have this story from THIS MONTH, where a woman was savagely attacked by more psycho killer raccoons.

They had her on the ground and gave her something like 100-bazillion puncture wounds before people chased them off. Here’s that story:

And now we have a column by Peter the Callaghan about the raccoon PR problem, a column that deserves its own column, because it’s just that good.

Read it here by clicking with your mousity mouse.

I am in Psycho Killer Raccoon heaven.

Bonus: apparently, chicken-slaying raccoons like donuts for dessert.