By Sylvia Burtswattle
That's right, I said it. No way to take it back now.
Lookie here kids, I’m about to lay a big one down, and I hope you’re all ready for it. Here goes nothing: migratory birds are, indeed, false. You heard me correctly. All that time spent looking up into the October sky, hoping for a glimpse of some ornithological beauty, has been a complete and utter waste. Not one bird migrates. I hate to say it, but it’s true. Sure, I’ll concede that birds can fly, but there’s not way that you can persuade me to believe that those feathered little guys will pack up and fly south for a lousy season. There’s just no way it’s possible. Not only are the motivations for migratory birds iffy (at best), but so are the logistics. You’re telling me that an entire pack of birds will group together and cross an entire country, as an organized unit? There is something quite flawed in that thinking. Trust me, I love the idea of a bunch of warmth-loving fowl collectively deciding to take a vacay to escape the snow as much as the next person, but it’s time we wake up and smell the regionally stationary flowers. I hope you can swallow your pride enough to at least consider that fact that you might be wrong, and that I might (definitely) be right.
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