'Yes, Virginia, There Is an Earlville Chicken'
Virginia, your little village government is wrong. They have been affected by the skepticism of a skeptical age. They do not believe except they see. And even when they see, they cannot believe. They think that nothing can be which is not comprehensible by their little minds.
All little minds, Virginia, whether they be men's or women's, are little thinkers. In this great universe of ours man is a mere insect, an ant, in his intellect, as compared with the erroneously boundless government servants about him, as measured by the intelligence incapable of grasping the whole of truth and knowledge.
Yes, Virginia, there is an Earlville Chicken. It exists as certainly as love and generosity and devotion exist, and you know that they abound and give to your life at its highest beauty and joy. Alas! How dreary would be the village if there were no chickens in Earlville! It would be as dreary as the lack of happiness if there were no Earlvillains. There would be no childlike faith then, no poetry, no romance to make tolerable this existence. We should have no enjoyment, except in sense and sight. The eternal light with which chicken fills the village would be extinguished.
Not believe in Earlville chickens! You might as well not believe in feral cats! You might get your mayor to hire a chicken enforcement officer to watch in all the yards on Earlville Day to catch a chicken, but even if he did not see a chicken crossing the road, what would that prove? Then, maybe, he would be hard at work from his home office researching the truths of the internet to find more evidence of Earlville Chickens.
Not everybody sees Earlville chickens, but that is no sign that there is no chicken in Earlville. The most real things in the village are those that neither little minds nor mindless officials can see. Did you ever see chickens dancing on the lawn? Of course not, but that's no proof that they are not there. Nobody can conceive or imagine all the wonders there are unseen and unseeable in the village.
You tear apart the local animal ordinance and see what makes the noise, but there is a veil covering the unseen village which not the strongest man, not even the united strength of all the strongest men that ever lived, could tear apart. Only faith, fancy, poetry, love, romance, can push aside that curtain and view and picture the supernal beauty and glory beyond. Is it all real? Ah, Virginia, in all this village there is nothing else real and abiding.
No chickens in Earlville! Don't believe your lying public servants one bit, as they, too, have seen and have testified, even in legal documents, of the truth that there does truly exist Earlville Chickens, much to their frustration. They continue to fall into the chicken trap of their creation and stupidity. In fact, Virginia, if you listen closely at this very moment, you may hear the fabled, yet true, sounds of another public servant being trapped as they cannot help themselves from falling.
Thank God, Earlville Chickens live, and they live forever. They live best as the strict definition of the creature. And they live worst as a humiliating and embarassing characteristic of some public servants. A thousand years from now, Virginia, nay, ten times ten thousand years from now, they will continue to make sounds in the heart of Earlville, long after the Earlvillains are gone.
-- c. 2008 Earlville.net