Birds of a Feather

This morning was another tough one. I remember being outraged that I was being forced, against my will, to wake up early every day. It should be outlawed in the European Convention on Human Rights or something. It's cruel and unusual. Except it's not unusual. That's the problem. It's cruel and usual. Regular as clockwork. A cruel clock. Like a rape-alarm clock. Or an abusive grandfather-clock. Or a suicide watch. Or a miscarriage clock.

Who would have thought there would be so many cruel clocks?

I don't want to oversell the ordeal of waking up in the morning. That's the last thing I want. But, in many ways, my experience of waking up early is a bit like that of young evacuees during World War II. They were torn from the comfort of their regular lives, and thrust into an unfamiliar world. Their lives were turned upside down by faceless, destructive outside forces. I'm not saying what I'm going through is as bad as the blitz. I'm not saying that. I'm just saying... same ballpark.

***

I've been thinking about pigeons and doves. They are essentially the same bird. And yet pigeons are kicked, abused, and hated, whilst doves are venerated as some kind of image of purity and peace.

The dove on Noah's ark fetched an olive branch (or something). What were the pigeons doing? I'll tell you what they were doing: they were trapped in the bowels of the ship, forced to row. Sound familiar? Amistad and Ark both begin with an 'A'.

"But Noah", they pleaded, in indecipherable cooing, "whilst we're happy to help your crusade in any way we can, surely the task of rowing would be better performed by those creatures God created with the means to manipulate an oar. Our wings are designed for flight. Rowing is not one of our key talents. Why not seek a creature with opposable thumbs?"

And Noah, laughing with indignation, kicked the pigeons. "You filthy swines (no offense, pigs)! I suppose you would have me use you as some kind of flying sentry! That is the job of the dove. The pure, WHITE dove. Not for the likes of you!"

And so it began. The lily-white dove was treated as some bird-king. The pigeon was forced to live in filthy city-streets, eating whatever refuse it could find. And all just because of the colour of its skin (feathers).

"They carry disease!", I hear you cry! Do they. They carry disease. Just like homosexuals carry the AIDS virus?! Is that what you're saying? These dirty outsiders carry disease? You sicken me. Maybe we should be looking at the underlying cause of this disease. Here's a hint - unmerited poverty, caused by discrimination.

These poor birds have been discriminated against for too long. Don't act innocent. I'm sure you've kicked a few pigeons in your time. Perhaps you've even cheered and gloated at the sight of a mashed pigeon corpse on the side of the road. But you love your precious doves, don't you. Your precious white doves.

A change is needed in the world. I'm looking to start a pigeon civil rights movement. The pigeon has been maligned for too long. All I need now is a Martin Luther Wing figure to spearhead the initiative.

I have a dream that one day young pigeons and young doves will sit side by side, defecating on national monuments, and repulsing and arousing us in equal measure.

Free at last, free at last, thank God almighty, they're free at last!

(And, in parting, I hope you'll raise a glass to me for not using the obvious 'coup/coo' pun. That's willpower.)