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  • The Parable of the Posting Parrot

    Posted by Shannon Love on July 12th, 2006 (All posts by )

    Once there was a blogger who inherited a parrot from a relative who had been a college professor. The executor sent along a note saying, “The parrot’s name is Tenure. He does not talk but if you do not watch him, he will post rude comments on blogs!”

    Now the blogger thought a posting parrot unlikely so he sat the parrot down on his desk near the keyboard to see what it would do. The parrot immediately hopped over to the keyboard and began to peck out a comment on a blog. At first, the blogger felt amazed and amused until he leaned over and read what the parrot wrote.

    Thanx for replying, Jeff. I’d rather shoot you too - as I said elsewhere, if I woke up tomorrow and learned that someone else had shot you and your “tyke” it wouldn’t slow me down one iota. You aren’t “human” to me. [ Link ]

    Horrified, the blogger grabbed up the parrot and stared it right in the eyes. “Look,” he said, “since the Internet is a free and largely anonymous medium, we all have to discipline ourselves individually if we want to maintain any degree of civility.”

    The blogger sat the parrot back down at the keyboard and the parrot typed:

    Ooh. Two year old boy. Sounds hot. You live in Colorado, I see. Hope no one Jon-Benets your baby. [ Link ]

    Dumbfounded, the blogger grabbed the parrot and threw it into the cage. “Look,” he said to the parrot as it peered out between the bars, “Even on the Internet you can’t go around making comments like that about children. You can stay in your cage until you can control yourself.” The parrot just turned his back.

    The blogger left the room but returned soon after when he heard the tick of the keyboard once more. The cage door was swinging on its hinges and the parrot stood pecking away at the keyboard. The parrot wrote:

    I reiterate: If some nutcase kidnapped your child tomorrow and did to her what was done to your fellow Coloradan, Jon-Benet Ramsey, I wouldn’t give a damn. [ Link ]

    Now very angry the blogger grabbed the parrot and shook it. “Are you listening to me at all?” he yelled at it. The parrot regarded him for a second before biting the blogger as hard as it could. Screaming in rage and pain the blogger ran into the kitchen, opened the refrigerator’s freezer and stuffed the parrot inside with all the frozen food. He slammed the door shut and held it closed. At first he heard loud squawking and scrambling noises, but then suddenly it grew very quite. After a few moments he heard a very measured pecking sound so he opened the freezer and found a very calm and subdued parrot. He held out his hand and the parrot stepped gracefully onto it. He carried the parrot to the desk and sat him down at the keyboard. The parrot typed:

    In hindsight, the things I wrote were over the line of nastiness. I apologize to Mr. Goldstein. [ Link ]

    “Well,” said the blogger, “You seemed to have learned a lesson in civility.” The parrot typed:

    I certainly have,

    The blogger felt satisfied but the parrot started bobbing back and forth as if agitated. “Is something else the matter?” the blogger asked. The parrot paused a moment before typing:

    If you don't mind me asking, what did the chicken do?

     

    3 Responses to “The Parable of the Posting Parrot”

    1. The Sanity Inspector Says:

      That’s very funny; congrats on coming up with it!

    2. max Says:

      Chastened, the parrot sat down to her dinner of Count Chockula, stared at the box for a minute or two and started to chuckle…

    3. aaron Says:

      Heh.

      Here’s one I wrote for the hardline democrat commenters at Kevin Drum’s:

      A man is walking down a New York street and he sees a tourist walking briskly passed him. They reach the street corner and it appears that the tourist will continue walking across the street, despite the flashing “don’t walk” sign having changed to a constant “don’t walk”.

      Knowing that a driver will sometimes gun-it upon a signal change, regardless of what’s infront of him, the man takes it upon himself to stop the tourist. Instead of speaking or gently touching his shoulder to stop the tourist, he spots a pile of dogshit on the ground, picks it up, and smooshes it in the tourist’s face.

      Now, maybe the man saved tourist from walking into the path of a bus. Maybe the tourist knows that the traffic lights take a of couple seconds before they change from red to green. One thing is certain, the man is going to get his ass kicked.