Why Did the Chicken Cross the Road?
Much help in this endeavor goes to Thomas Parker (Grumpy) < firstname.lastname@example.org >, whoever he may be, for the "Canonical Chicken" list. I've added every additional response I can find.
Why did the chicken cross the road?
To actualize its potential.
Did the chicken fart when it crossed the road?
Urrrrrp. What chicken?
The chicken wanted to expose the myth of the road.
Ludvig von Beethoven:
What? Speak up.
When he saw the fork in the road, he took it.
And God came down from the Heavens, and He said unto the Chicken, "Thou shalt cross the road." And the Chicken crossed the road, and there was much rejoicing.
Bill the Cat:
I don't know ... whatever the American president said.
Wonder why chickens cross roads. Must be some law. Migration maybe. Mrs Marion Bloom.
the chicken crossed the road well Poldy I dont know why why do you worry about such stupid bloody things O speaking of stupid bloody things here it comes again damn it its only been three weeks I wonder is there something wrong with me yes
Because the street had no name.
It desired to join me in protesting McDonald's Chicken McNuggets.
To prove to himself that he coulda been a contender.
Marlon Brando (revisited):
One of my friends made him an offer he couldn't refuse.
To steal a job from a decent, hard-working American.
If you ask this question, you deny your own chicken-nature.
To face a kinder, gentler thousand points of headlights.
George W. Bush:
I don't believe we need to get the chickens across the road. I say give the road to the chickens and let them decide. The government needs to let go of strangling the chickens so they can get across the road.
To come, to see, to conquer.
It doesn't matter; the chicken's actions have no meaning except to him.
To cultivate its garden.
To continue the revolution.
Chickens are big-time because they have wings. They could fly if they wanted to. Chickens don't want to cross the road. They don't need help crossing the road. In fact, I'm not interested in crossing the road myself.
Dick Cheney (revisited):
To get to an undisclosed location.
That depends. What was she wearing?
Bill Clinton (revisited):
It all depends on what your definition of "chicken" is.
Let me tell ya a story 'bout a chicken I know
The crazy fool thing was always walkin' 'cross the road
But then one day I was drivin' in the truck
When all of a sudden I heard a big thump!
(Road kill, that is. Good eatin'. Fine food.)
Mistah Chicken, he dead.
It may very well have been one of the most astonishing events to grace the annals of history. An historic, unprecedented avian biped with the temerity to attempt such an herculean achievement formerly relegated to homo sapien pedestrians is truly a remarkable occurence.
my dear old etcetera
chicken during the last
war crossed some roads
he never would have
crossed before ...
It was the logical next step after coming down from the trees.
Charles Darwin (revisited):
Chickens, over great periods of time, have been naturally selected in such a way that they are now genetically dispositioned to cross roads.
Because it ran out of opium.
What is the difference? The chicken was merely deferring from one side of the road to other. And how do we get the idea of the chicken in the first place? Does it exist outside of language?
It had sufficient reason to believe it was dreaming anyway.
Because it could not stop for death.
How many roads must one chicken cross?
In order to connect with those chickens who had gone before him, I channeled his energy so he could "cross over".
Whether the chicken crossed the road or the road crossed the chicken depends on your frame of reference.
Weialala leia / Wallala leialala.
TS Eliot (revisited):
Do I dare to cross the road?
Ralph Waldo Emerson:
It didn't cross the road; it transcended it.
It was forced to do so by the chicken-hole principle.
That depends on which plane of reality the chicken was on at the time.
Because the chicken was gay! Isn't it obvious? Can't you people see the plain truth in front of your face? The chicken was going to the "other side". That's what "they" call it - the "other side". Yes, my friends, that chicken is gay. And, if you eat that chicken, you will become gay too. I say we boycott all chickens until we sort out this abomination that the liberal media whitewashes with seemingly harmless phrases like "the other side". That chicken should not be free to cross the road. It's as plain and simple as that.
The road, you will see, represents the black man. The chicken crossed the "black man" in order to trample him and keep him down.
Oh, don't mind that chicken. It's from Barcelona.
Pierre de Fermat:
I just don't have room here to give the full explanation...
Gerald R. Ford:
It probably fell from an airplane and couldn't stop its forward momentum.
Gerald R. Ford (revisited):
To look for the golf ball I lost in the woods over there.
It did so because the dicourse of crossing the road left it no choice-the police state was oppressing it.
The chicken obviously was female and obviously interpreted the pole on which the crosswalk sign was mounted as a phallic symbol of which she was envious, selbstverständlich.
Sigmund Freud (revisited):
The fact that you thought the chicken crossed the road reveals your underlying sexual insecurity.
To cross the road less traveled by.
Zsa Zsa Gabor:
It probably crossed to get a better look at my legs, which, thank goodness, are good, dahling.
I have just released the new Chicken 2000, which will both cross roads and balance your checkbook, though when it divides 3 by 2 it gets 1.49999999999.
Dirk Gently, Holistic Detective:
I'm not exactly sure why, but right now I've got a horse in my bathroom.
The traffic started getting rough;
The chicken had to cross.
If not for the plumage of its peerless tail
The chicken would be lost,
The chicken would be lost!
Johann Friedrich von Goethe:
The eternal hen-principle made it do it.
I fight for the chickens and I am fighting for the chickens right now. I will not give up on the chickens crossing the road! I will fight for the chickens and I will not disappoint them.
Al Gore (revisited):
Because I invented the chicken, of course.
In my day, we didn't ask why the chicken crossed the road. Someone told us that the chicken had crossed the road, and that was good enough for us.
Georg Wilhelm Friedrich Hegel:
It was part of the dialectic.
To die. In the rain.
We are not sure which side of the road the chicken was on, but it was moving very fast.
It needed Lebensraum.
Out of custom and habit.
This was an unprovoked act of rebellion and we were quite justified in dropping 50 tons of nerve gas on it.
Saddam Hussein (revisited):
It is the Mother of all Chickens.
It found a better car, which was on the other side of the road.
It was endowed by its Creator with certain unalienable rights, that among these are Life, Liberty, and the Pursuit of Happiness Across the Road.
John Paul Jones:
It has not yet begun to cross!
Once upon a time a nicens little chicken named baby tuckoo crossed the road and met a moocow coming down...
James Joyce (revisited):
To forge in the smithy of its soul the uncreated conscience of its race.
The confluence of events in the cultural gestalt necessitated that individual chickens cross roads at this historical juncture, and, therefore, synchronicitously brought such occurrences into being.
Because it was a duty.
Immanuel Kant (revisited):
The chicken, being an autonomous being, chose to cross the road of its own free will.
Immanuel Kant (once more):
Though I am a respected philosopher of the Enlightenment, and though I know why the chicken did cross the road, the answer will remain forever unclear to you, the reader, seeing as how I, a German intellectual, have written the answer in a clearly incomprehensible, extended fashion, which neither you nor any literate person has yet figured out how to decipher.
Martin Luther King:
I envision a world where all chickens will be free to cross roads without having their motives called into question.
James Tiberius Kirk:
To boldly go where no chicken has gone before.
Because of its desire for *object a*.
To help Timmy, who had fallen down a well.
I'm sorry, Ollie. It escaped when I opened the run.
Because that's the only kind of trip the Establishment would let him take.
Are you sure it wasn't Zeus dressed up as a chicken? He's into that kind of thing, you know.
Gottfried von Leibniz:
In this best possible world, the road was made for it to cross.
I believe that every chicken has the right to worship his or her God in his or her own way. Crossing the road is a spiritual journey and no chicken should be denied the right to cross the road in his or her own way.
To emancipate the chickens that have been held in captivity on the other side.
Becuase he was exercising his natural right to life, liberty and property.
H. P. Lovecraft:
To escape the eldritch, cthonic, rugose, polypous, indescribably horrible abomination not from our space-time continuum.
The point is that the chicken crossed the road. Who cares why? The ends of crossing the road justify whatever motive there was.
Paul de Man:
The chicken did not really cross the road because one side and the other are not really opposites in the first place.
Paul de Man: (uncovered after his death)
So no one would find out it wrote for a collaborationist Belgian newspaper during the early years of World War II.
Is not a chicken. Is Siberian hamster.
Chicken? What's all this talk about chicken? Why, I had an uncle who thought he was a chicken. My aunt almost divorced him, but we needed the eggs.
To escape the bourgeois middle-class struggle.
Karl Marx (revisited):
It was an historical inevitability.
Bob and Doug McKenzie:
To get to the hockey rink, eh?
To get various strains of roads.
To justify the ways of God to men.
Know ye that it is unclean to eat the chicken that has crossed the road, and that the chicken that crosseth the road doth so for its own preservation.
It was a government conspiracy.
Chickens are misled into believing there is a road by the evil tire makers. Chickens aren't ignorant, but our society pays tire makers to create the need for these roads and then lures chickens into believing there is an advantage to crossing them. Down with the roads, up with chickens.
Alfred E. Neuman:
What? Me worry?
Sir Isaac Newton:
Chickens at rest tend to stay at rest. Chickens in motion tend to cross the road.
'Cause it (censored) wanted to. That's the (censored) reason.
It was serious. And stop calling it Shirley.
Because if you gaze too long across the Road, the Road gazes also across you.
Friedrich Nietzsche (revisited):
It was an Überchicken exercising his will to power.
The chicken did not cross the road. I repeat, the chicken did not cross the road.
Another chicken named "Plucky" will be crossing a road on February 2, 2000; heed this warning.
To prove to the opossum that it can be done.
Because the government had fooled him into thinking that he was crossing the road of his own free will, when he was really only serving their interests.
Because I was trying to bite off its head.
It was drawn by the subconscious chthonian power of the feminine which men can never understand, to cross the road and focus itself on its task. Hens are not capable of doing this-their minds do not work that way. Feminism tries vainly to pretend there is no real difference between them, falsely following Rousseau. But de Sade has proved....
Out of common sense.
Nobody expects the banished inky chicken!
There already was a chicken on the other side of the road.
For the greater good.
That is only for God to know.
Pyrrho the Skeptic:
J. Danforth Quayle:
Ite sawe ae potatoee.
It was crossing the road because of its own rational choice to do so. There cannot be a collective unconscious; desires are unique to each individual.
Well, I forget.
Erich Maria Remarque:
The chicken crossed the road because, after his experience with war, he no longer felt at home in his home.
Georg Friedrich Riemann:
The answer appears in Dirichlet's lectures.
Why do you think the chicken crossed the road?
It had a ten-year, $252 million contract to cross the road 162 times a year.
Because he wanted to be my neighbor. Can you say "neighbor"? I knew you could.
I may have made mistakes in my life, but I did not, repeat not, place a bet on any chickens crossing roads on which my team was traveling.
It was the "general will" of the people for the chicken to cross the road.
I missed one?
In order to act in good faith and be true to itself, the chicken found it necessary to cross the road.
Lt. Montgomery Scott:
'Cos ma wee transporter beam was na functioning properly. Ah canna work miracles, Captain!
Why does anyone cross a road? I mean, why doesn't anyone ever think to ask, "What the heck was this chicken doing walking around all over the place anyway?"
Did the chicken cross the road?
Did he cross it with a toad?
Yes, the chicken crossed the road,
But why he crossed, I've not been told!
I don't know why, but methinks I could rattle off a hundred-line soliloquy without much ado.
It was a suicide bomber chicken, trying to blow up a Jewish settlement. Let's wipe out a hundred chickens as retaliation.
Mmmmm ... chicken!
To help me look for the real killer.
Was it pushing a rock, too?
Because the external influences, which had pervaded its sensorium from birth, had caused it to develop in such a fashion that it would tend to cross roads, even while believing these actions to be of its own free will.
To pick up some hemlock at the corner druggist.
You tell me.
It was the only logical thing to do.
I don't care. Catch it. I need its eggs to make my omelet.
The question is not "Why did the chicken cross the road?" but is rather "Who was crossing the road at the same time whom we overlooked in our haste to observe the chicken crossing?"
The Air Force was only too happy to provide the transportation, so quite understandably the chicken availed himself of the opportunity.
If you saw me coming you'd cross the road too!
There was no alternative.
To not go (sic) gentle into that good night.
Henry David Thoreau:
To live deliberately ... and suck all the marrow out of life.
Thomas de Torquemada:
Give me ten minutes with the chicken and I'll find out.
The news of its crossing has been greatly exaggerated.
Actually it crossed the Delaware with me back in 1776. But most history books don't reveal that I bunked with a birdie during the duration.
I invited it to come up and see me sometime.
To cluck the song of itself.
To have something to recollect in tranquility.
It was a hen!
Take this chicken ... please.
Zeno of Elea:
To prove it could never reach the other side.
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