The Chicken or the Egg?

We have all heard, if not used, the phrase, “Which came first, the chicken or the egg?”  Now don’t waste your time going down that thought trail because I’m going to give you the answer in the next paragraph. The question is an example of causality dilemma where the parameters of one state (i.e. the chicken) require the existence of the other state (i.e. the egg) and vice versa.  It is a philosophical conundrum employed to force an examination of creation.  That may have been acceptable to Third Century B.C. thinkers but in the era of modern genetic understanding, the answer is non-debatable.

“So Dale,” you ask, “which did come first?”

“Why,” I respond, “the egg!” To which, after the shock has passed you ask, “Well, who then laid the egg?”

The Proto-chicken!

Now you are wondering just what the heck is he rambling on about? You’ve been to Colonel Sanders’ (aka KFC for you post Baby Boomers), Knott’s Berry Farm, maybe Popeye’s and, if you’re very brave or very lost, even Church’s Fried Chicken.  But you have never seen Proto-chicken on the menu.  “Is it a special non-posted menu item available only to those in the loop?” you ask.

We’re going to take a stroll down science lane now so try to keep up and don’t touch the exhibits. Every animal (or plant or fungus, for that matter) has a genetic fingerprint that is totally unique. Members of a specific species have certain DNA characteristics in common which separate them from other species. These characteristics are passed from generation to generation and may result in evolutionary modification over time forced by competition for food or other survival factors.  Advantages gleaned from advanced evolution allowing members of a species to outperform lesser adapted members eventually allow the better developed to supplant their less fortunate cousins.  This is known as natural selection and is not what we are interested in for this discussion.

Occasionally, a genetic mutation occurs that results not in a better shrew, but a whole new bunny rabbit.  What triggers these mutations is open for debate. But such alterations are not due to changes happening in the living animal, they are the result of some alteration to the DNA within the female’s reproductive supply, i.e. eggs. When some environmental force “damages” the chromosome record in an animal’s ova so much that the resulting offspring is considered a unique species, we call this catastrophic evolution. Once an animal is conceived by fertilization, its DNA does not change. The change yielding a new species occurs in the chromosomes of the mother’s eggs.

Therefore, the first chicken emerged from an egg laid by a pre-DNA altered bird, or proto-chicken, if you will. Now you have acquired a new bit of esoteric knowledge with which you can dazzle you friends at your next cocktail party.  But I’ll bet, if you imbibe, that the answer to the question will be that time honored punch-line, “the Rooster!”

A Tale of Abandonment and Woe

 

An elderly lady entered the neighborhood pet store and addresses the proprietor, “I’m an old lady who lives alone.  I’m very lonely.  I thought it would be nice to have a bird that talks just so there’s a voice to hear.”

“Well lady,” the owner replied, “Right now I have only one parrot that can talk.  But he was previously owned by an old sea captain and his language is somewhat blue.  He might not be what you’re looking for.”

But the old matron persisted, “My children live all over country. They never call.  They never visit.  I haven’t seen my grandchildren in two years.  All of my close friends have passed on.  I just want to hear a human voice, even if it’s a bird.”

The pet shop owner was moved to tears, he relented with one caveat, “I’ll sell you the parrot, mother, but I have to warn you, no matter what he says, I cannot take him back.  If you buy him and are disappointed, it’s your problem.” With that, the two completed the transaction. The shop owner placed a drape over the cage and the old woman trundled on home, hopeful that her new pet would relieve the crushing loneliness.

When she got home, she set the cage on the dining room table and removed the covering.  The bird immediately came to life, “Squawk, show me your tits lady!” The prudish old lady was shocked.  She picked up a magazine and rapped on the cage, “How dare you use such profane language.”

The parrot answered, “Squawk, show me your tits lady!”

She was incensed, “I’ll teach you, you rude devil!” She ran into the kitchen, retrieved a glass of water and threw it on the bird that in turn fluffed his plumage and repeated, “Squawk, show me your tits lady!”

She couldn’t stand the foul fowl’s abusive outburst.  In an attempt to teach the rancid beast a lesson in manners, she opened the door to the cage, reached in and grabbed the parrot by its feet.  She carried it upside down into the kitchen, beat its head against the counter and shoved the offending critter in the freezer.

 After ten minutes, she considered the bird had suffered enough.  She retrieved the parrot and set it on the counter where it shivered from its imprisonment in the ice box.  “What do you have to say now, you evil bird?

“Squawk! What d-d-did the chi-chi-chicken do? Ask f-f-for a b-b-b-blowjob?”