Windows Live Spaces would like to warn viewers that the following blog entry may (or may not) contain exaggerations and false prophecy. Please also be advised that the entry is also tediously long and viewers may wish to skip to the point … several … paragraphs … down.
As the responsible person that I am, I felt I was obliged to make this very important announcement and warn people of the danger they are all in. During my recent travels, I have gathered critical information in relation to The Movement.
Yes, the select few of us intelligent enough to recognise the warning signs had already predicted this most unforunate and most unusual doomsday was coming. Everyone else dismissed our prophecy for lunacy, but now that day may come sooner than first thought.
The only good news is that Queenslanders are not under so much threat as Victorians. (To the Victorians reading this – and maybe even the New South Welsh – it may be frightening but you cannot evacuate to Queensland – we are reaching overpopulation and have shortages of everything left, right and centre. You must stay where you are and fight. Come to think of it, recent waves of southerners coming up to Queesland probably was a sign that The Movement was getting more and more obvious. They came under the guise of preferring our climate over their gloomy weather but, in actual fact, they were afraid of the growing strength of The Movement. Why did they not alert the military! Of course, they probably would not have listened.)
For those who are confused, forgetful, ignorant or live under rocks (which we all do, if you consider that the Earth is a rock and everything on the southern hemisphere constitutes what’s "under" the Earth…) I shall make the situation more clear.
And some other birds.
There was no escape from them in Melbourne – they were just about everywhere. In the city, wherever there was food, there were birds. They’d enter fast food stores and eat scraps and bits and pieces that had fallen onto the floor and hadn’t been cleaned up yet and then they’d pace around the place waiting for you to surrender your food to them. The more impatient ones would sit on nearby tables, just eyeing your food, waiting until you’d lost your appetite and could not finish your meal. And that’s just for indoor dining. (Yes, they’d perch on signs outside to wait for the opportune moment when they’d be able to swoop into the restaurant with yet another unsuspecting victim.)
Al fresco dining or whatever it’s called when people eat at tables on the side of footpaths and whatever – their biggest target. I once saw this big bowl of soup or noodles or something (it was hard to tell) on a table on the footpath and there were, like, three or four pigeons standing on the rim of the bowl, heads immersed, just going at the food like crazy. I have photographic evidence of this.
They have no shame and all the arrogance in the world. On Swanston Street (? or some other street, but I’ quite sure it’s Swanston) there is a great statue of the explorers Burke and Wills. On the same day as the incident described in the previous paragraph, I spotted a seagull perched proudly on this statue on the head of either Burke or Wills (I was much too amused – I mean, astonished to note upon whose head the disrespectful seagull was standing).
Most shocking of all the intelligence I gathered was that regarding their numbers. It seems introduced species and city-dwellers are not enough – The Movement has also recruited a great number of native birds from Victorian bushland. On a particular Sunday during my stay, I visited this random place (I think it was some sort of nature reserve or national park or something similar) with the intention of bringing food supplies to the native birds that undoubtedly would eventually fall victim of the treachery of Pigeons and Co. Alas! Hardly a bird in sight! And we wandered along these nature walks for ages! There were plenty of flies around, though – clearly thriving from the absence of birds.
Of course, amidst all this doom and gloom, there is hope and salvation! One evening after dinner I was strolling around the backyard of my aunty’s place (with daylight savings, sundown isn’t until around 9pm in the summer), when I heard some most delightful flute (or what I assume was flute) music. It seemed like the a neighbour had decided to do some practice or showing-off of their musical talents (not a single crack in the two or so metre fence, so I have no idea what the flute player looked like). It was not long before I noticed a several pigeons (maybe around ten of them) congregated on the roof of the foremost house (I should probably call them flats or something because the neighbouring lot is actually about the same size as my aunty’s place but it’s divided up into three or four smaller houses). Anyway, because they were all facing in the direction of the flute player, I instantly thought of the Pied Piper and the rats and how pigeons are just rats of the sky.
Unfortunately, when my mum went in and informed my aunty, it was revealed that the people living in the other house/flat actually owned those pigeons as pets. Well… not as great as a Pied Piper for pigeons or a bird version of a snake charmer, but whatever.
And the point of all this: I will tell you when to be afraid and when to advance to being "very afraid". Now, however, is not the time for either. Heed the advice of a certain fridge magnet you may or may not have received some time ago from the Howard government: Be alert, not alarmed. (Was that what the fridge magnet said?? Oh, whatever, you get the message.)