You know, maybe it's just me, but sometimes I can't help but question common logic.

Common logic, among the more hip, compassionate crowd, is that it's better to purchase free range chicken. Free range chickens aren't cooped up in overcrowded conditions. They aren't subject to a life of abject misery and are allowed a free, unfettered existence.

I'm sorry. That doesn't sound like a good thing to me.

Think about it. If you're a chicken, and you're life sucks, and you stand around all day thinking, man, my life sucks! I hate this putrid existence! I can't even run around. No! I'm stuck here, wing-to-wing with all these other pathetic chickens day in and day out and will this misery NEVER END!

You'd think he'd be glad when the axe fell.

Now, on the other hand, think about the free range chicken, running around, trying to get that flying thing down, pecking at the seeds on the ground amist the lush green grass and thinking, man, I truly love my little chicken like existance! Here I am, free as a--excuse me--bird, the sun shining down on me; how could I possibly be happier?

And then the axe falls anyway.

Man, I don't want to eat chicken who's last thought was, fuckin' bummer. I want to eat a chicken who's last thought was, Yes! Finally! Free from this mortal coil!
Food for thought.

Joseph Haines, signing off from The Edge of The Abyss.