Flip the Duck

As Ottawa sinks further and further towards the precipice of winter (*shudder*, I'm so afraid of winter! I fucking hate cold, I do. I know, I'm Canadian, I should love the cold!, I should be half-polar bear, blahblahblah. To that logic I say: fuck off. Cold is the worst. I would brave 40C heat gladly if it meant no cold. Hell is a frozen tundra), Montoya and I find ourselves respecting the shit out of anything that looks winter in the eye and says, "That all you got?"

And that brings me to a discussion of the Canada Goose. Assholes. Currently, there are hundreds of them huddled together taking refuge in one of Monty's favorite parks about 20 minutes away. They are using the field as a meeting ground to swell their numbers before heading south, those obtrusive fairweather bastards. They began this process about a month ago and the Canada Goose King or Queen or Oligarchy or Collective have not yet decided to leave for warmer climes so they continue to amass. They both terrify and fascinate Monty as they are just a titch bigger than he (they have at least 5-10 pounds on him, if not more), their movements are strange, they make that noise, and sometimes they attack back. They also leave a veritable minefield of bright green gooseshit all over which I find annoying and mister finds tasty. Gross.

They receive all kinds of press, the pictures of them are endless. The global warming is futzing with their ability to know when to fly south for the winter so the nation of Goose is caught up in its own Indecision 2010, and their migration route has become super dangerous with the advent of wind power farms. Good wind power locations also equal good bird migration routes. In addition to that, a bunch of morons are also feeding them in the park (despite massive signage to NOT DO THAT) so the birds don't know if they want to leave or not. They've got a lot of shit to deal with. And they've become frustrated and territorial (having camped in the park for so long) and so will attack dogs and small children and large moronic adults if they feel threatened. Canada Goose migration used to be the sure sign of winter but as my dept chair says, in his Scottish brogue, "The geese are no longer reliable." Everyone talks about the geese. And the irrational identification of the Canada goose with the Canadian nation somehow ups the stakes for Canada Goose survival, as if Canadianness itself is also threatened by Indecision 2010.

The mini-plight/drama of the goose is real (the melodrama of Canadianness is far less so) and I don't want to negate their struggle in any way (though it is true that authorities on both sides of the border actually work to keep goose populations down because they are nasty and their numbers are growing.) A much more pressing worry is the hundreds of polar bears in Manitoba that are waiting waiting waiting perhaps in vain for the ice to form so they can fucking eat again -- ample proof that global warming is real, despite whatever the fucktards who deny it say.

But in lieu of dwelling on the showboating geese, let us take a moment to appreciate the duck! Ducks rule. It might be totally frakking cold outside, and the duck is like, "Whatevs." The fatty deliciousness of the duck allows them to survive anywhere that there is even a smidgen of unfrozen water (ie/ a running river), so they don't give a shit what winter does or doesn't do with itself, they are good to go.
They migrate only in the direst of circumstances, they go about their business in orderly fashion, they attack no one, Monty barely even knows they exist. They get their shit done. Quietly, and with dignity, they see Winter a-comin' and they hold up their middle feathers to its face. Thus, if we truly appreciate the awesomeness of this creature, the hand gesture known as "flipping the bird" should be changed to "flipping the duck" -- because ducks fucking rule.