Almost a week ago, His Blogness over at the Matticus Kingdom announced the First Ever Tug of War and called on each of us to take a side. The game will decide the answer to a question that has long plagued humanity:
Which came first– the chicken, or the egg?
(Read more about this blog-game here: http://thematticuskingdom.wordpress.com/2013/02/22/first-ever-official-matticus-kingdom-tug-of-war/)
I waited a bit to participate because I wanted to root for the underdog, and it looks like as of today, the underdog is a chicken!
The Eggers have a lot of strange arguments.
They say that eggs predate all life– which is really a semantics cop-out since we all know the question is asking about chicken-related eggs specifically. They also seem to be united in the idea that some other creature sat down to make an egg one day and accidentally birthed the chicken.
For the sake of argument, we’ll give them both points– but it is interesting that they’re willing to call an egg an egg in it’s earliest manifestation, but are unwilling to apply the word “chicken” to any creature that doesn’t perfectly match the idea of a 21st century chicken.
The chickenism is hidden behind the word of science. Let’s consider it’s validity.
In the last few years, we’ve learned that a lot of what we considered to be “true” about the early days of earth were, in fact, quite wrong. Visit a 2nd grade classroom today, and prepare yourself for a shock. Pluto’s not a planet, Columbus wasn’t a good guy, and dinosaurs had feathers.
The inherent flaw of science is that is limited by the imagination and tools of mankind. Given it’s unreliable nature, let us abandon it’s theories for a moment and consider this alternative.
Once upon a time, the Earth was still young, and life was still finding a way.
If a mommy insect loved a daddy insect very, very much, they would go behind The Kissing Tree and kiss. If it was the truest of true love, a baby insect would be born from the stars and fly right into their lives.
Days turned to weeks, and weeks turned to eons, and that baby insect’s baby’s babies grew up.
They grew as tall as trees and as big as houses yet to be built.
They called themselves dinosaurs.
Some had spikes, some had feathers, and some had walnut-brains and long, long tails.
And if a mommy dinosaur loved a daddy dinosaur very, very much, they would go behind The Kissing Tree and kiss. If it was the truest of true love, a baby dinosaur would sprout from the ground and walk right into their lives.
Days turned to weeks, and weeks turned to eons, and one day, a very special generation of dinosaur was born.
One such child had wings like her ancestors, a beak just like her father, feathers like her mom, and scrawny funny legs just like her maternal grandmother, Maribel. They called her Chicken.
When Chicken was old enough, she went behind The Kissing Tree with her husband and gave him the kiss of a lifetime, but no baby flew down from the sky, or popped up from the ground.
No, her tummy grew big, and when she sat down to rest– an egg fell out of her.
She loved that egg, kissed it, and kept it warm. Eventually it cracked open to reveal a virtual clone of Chicken– her beloved daughter who she also named Chicken.
The cycle continued for a week, and then an eon, and pretty soon the very beginning was forgotten entirely.
But the Kissing Tree remembers, and if you ask her, she’ll tell you the tale, and assure you– though the world’s first egg was quite a charming thing, Chicken was undoubtedly was here first.
I think that really settles it, but I suppose we’ll let the Kingdom’s official counters have the final say. If you’re with me, the Kissing Tree, and chickens– be sure to cast your vote by writing a supportive post, or by voting via comment over at The Matticus Kingdom: http://thematticuskingdom.wordpress.com/2013/02/22/first-ever-official-matticus-kingdom-tug-of-war/