40 CHICKENS

A story made the rounds a week or so ago about a 31-year-old Philadelphia man who decided to eat 40 rotisserie chickens in 40 days. There seemed to be no real purpose for the stunt other than to gain the inevitable viral attention and a small posse of itinerant bystanders who cheered him on in a Walmart parking lot as he ate the last bird. His initial goal had been 30, but he widened his aperture of gluttony when he realized it seemed to be making people happy.

I seriously question the mental health - let alone moral fiber - of individuals who would encourage such an endeavor, even though a good time seems to have been had by all unless of course you count the 40 dead birds. 

Considering the torturous quality of life for chickens, creatures who are known to possess a finely-honed sensory repertoire which includes the ability to think, dream in colour, and apply logic, his shenanigans could almost be seen as a kind of rescue mission for the 40 souls who had more room around them on the rotisserie than they ever had during their short, brutal lives.