The crows run this town. They’re huge, noir, squawking, & ever present… They run in packs of 7-l2 birds, dive bombing the locals & terrorizing entire neighborhoods… Most dogs fear their wrath.
You know, a gang of crows is called a “murder”? How fucked up is that? It says quite a bit, actually, about the nature of this winged village menace… To say that these fuckers rule the roost would not be fair to you, my intensely intrigued dear zine reader…nor to the very crows in which we speak. No, to reveal their inherited secrets - to really get to the bottom of their extraterrestrial prowess, that ornithological domination we so admire - to have an understanding of these less than graceful flying vermin of the heavens, on a somewhat even keel, we’ve got to really get in there & see beyond the shine of the established veneer. We must stare the beast in its little beady & glazed over, smooth, inky black void of an eyeball…& look deep into its barren essence de nuit et sans joie de vivre, et merde et merde et merde… So this requires us to analyze what we see inside ourselves, in our own souls - fully lost in the abyss. The troubles of this godforsaken world, reflecting back into the universal subconscious, expressed in this light as a singular & wholly original thought pattern as per the individual person’s mind. Et voila! “This is lift off, asshole…”
Now we open our eyes to the massive influence & actual authority that these ballsy birds have over their human counterpart. Watching them over the past few months, & more importantly, ~listening~ to their otherworldly message…well, I have noticed quite the eerie & downright macabre aura, which makes itself known, more & more so with each & every interaction I have with these noisy blackbirds.
Unseen, they sit atop fence posts…at the Community Garden built by the local Rotary Club some time back, seemingly the gossipy hot spot - for all the town’s a rumor mill just a waitin’ that one explosive spark to set the whole shit house a blaze. I say, burn baby burn. I smell a riot comin’ on…motherfuckin nature & shit. It’s violent.
But me, I’ve been listening…been paying attention. And just what have these filthy fucking downright dirty rotten no good no good damn it all to hell straight up awful offensive winged disease bringers, been saying this whole time? What’s been their goddamned secret coded message all along? It comes in as a breezy whisper…low, yet clear as day. “Get the fuck outta Dodge!”