GEORGE W. BUSH
We don’t really care why the chicken crossed the road. We just want to know if the chicken is on our side of the road or not. The chicken is either with us or it is against us. There is no middle ground here.
I invented the chicken. I invented the road. Therefore, the chicken crossing the road represented the application of these two different functions of government in a new, reinvented way designed to bring
greater services to the American people.
The chicken’s habitat on the original side of the road had been polluted by unchecked industrialist greed. The chicken did not reach the unspoiled habitat on the other side of the road because it was crushed by the wheels of a gas-guzzling SUV.
To steal a job from a decent, hard-working American.
I don’t know why the chicken crossed the road, but I’ll bet it was getting a government grant to cross the road, and I’ll bet someone out there is already forming a support group to help chickens with
crossing-the-road syndrome. Can you believe this? How much more of this can real Americans take? Chickens crossing the road paid for by their tax dollars, and when I say tax dollars, I’m talking about your money, money the government took from you to build roads for chickens to cross.
No one called to warn me which way that chicken was going. I had a standing order at the farmer’s market to sell my eggs when the price dropped to a certain level. No little bird gave me any insider information.
Because the chicken was gay! Isn’t it obvious? Can’t you people see the plain truth in front of your face? The chicken was going to the “other side.” That’s what they call it — the other side. Yes, my friends, that Chicken is gay. And, if you eat that chicken, you will become gay too. I say we boycott all chickens until we sort out this abomination that the liberal media whitewashes with seemingly harmless phrases like “the other side.”
Did the chicken cross the road?
Did he cross it with a toad?
Yes, The chicken crossed the road,
But why it crossed, I’ve not been told!
To die. In the rain. Alone.
MARTIN LUTHER KING, JR.
I envision a world where all chickens will be free to cross roads without having their motives called into question.
In my day, we didn’t ask why the chicken crossed the road. Someone told us that the chicken crossed the road, and that was good enough for us.
Imagine all the chickens crossing roads in peace.
It is the nature of chickens to cross the road.
It was a historical inevitability.
To boldly go where no chicken has gone before.
Isn’t that interesting? In a few moments we will be listening to the chicken tell, for the first time, the heart-warming story of how it experienced a serious case of molting and went on to accomplish its life-long dream of crossing the road.
This was an unprovoked act of rebellion and we were quite justified in dropping 50 tons of nerve gas on it.
I may not agree with what the chicken did, but I will defend to the death its right to do it.
You saw it cross the road with your own eyes! How many more chickens have to cross before you believe it?
The fact that you are at all concerned that the chicken crossed the road reveals your underlying sexual insecurity.
I have just released eChicken 2009, which will not only cross roads, but will lay eggs, file your important documents, and balance your checkbook – and Internet Explorer is an inextricable part of eChicken.
Did the chicken really cross the road or did the road move beneath the chicken?
I did not cross the road with THAT chicken. What do you mean by chicken? Could you define chicken, please?
And God came down from the heavens, and He said unto the chicken, “Thou shalt cross the road.” And the chicken crossed the road, and there was much rejoicing.
I missed one?
For the greater good.
It was a historical inevitability.
So that its subjects will view it with admiration, as a chicken which has the daring and courage to boldly cross the road, but also with fear, for whom among them has the strength to contend with such a paragon of avian virtue? In such a manner is the princely chicken’s dominion maintained.
Because of an excess of light pink gooey stuff in its pancreas.
Any number of contending discourses may be discovered within the act of the chicken crossing the road, and each interpretation is equally valid as the authorial intent can never be discerned, because structuralism is DEAD, DAMMIT, DEAD!
Thomas de Torquemada
Give me ten minutes with the chicken and I’ll find out.
Because that’s the only kind of trip the Establishment would let it take.
Because if you gaze too long across the Road, the Road gazes also across you.
National Security was at stake.
Because the external influences which had pervaded its sensorium from birth had caused it to develop in such a fashion that it would tend to cross roads, even while believing these actions to be of its own free will.
The confluence of events in the cultural gestalt necessitated that individual chickens cross roads at this historical juncture, and therefore synchronicitously brought such occurrences into being.
In order to act in good faith and be true to itself, the chicken found it necessary to cross the road.
The possibility of “crossing” was encoded into the objects “chicken” and “road”, and circumstances came into being which caused the actualization of this potential occurrence.
To actualize its potential.
If you ask this question, you deny your own chicken-nature.
It may very well have been one of the most astonishing events to grace the annals of history. An historic, unprecedented avian biped with the temerity to attempt such an herculean achievement formerly relegated to homo sapien pedestrians is truly a remarkable occurrence.
It was the logical next step after coming down from the trees.
Because it could not stop for death.
Ralph Waldo Emerson
It didn’t cross the road; it transcended it.
Johann von Goethe
The eternal hen-principle made it do it.
To die. In the rain.
We are not sure which side of the road the chicken was on, but it was moving very fast.
Out of custom and habit.
‘Cause it (censored) wanted to. That’s the (censored) reason.
Pyrrho the Skeptic
The Air Force was only too happy to provide the transportation, so quite understandably the chicken availed himself of the opportunity.
You tell me.
If you saw me coming you’d cross the road too!
Henry David Thoreau
To live deliberately … and suck all the marrow out of life.
The news of its crossing has been greatly exaggerated.
It was a hen!
Zeno of Elea
To prove it could never reach the other side.
So priketh hem nature in hir corages.
To wander lonely as a cloud.
I didn’t want its mother to see it like that.
Philosophy will clip a chicken’s wings.
To see heaven in a wild fowl.
Sir, had you known the Chicken for as long as I have, you would not so readily enquire, but feel rather the Need to resist such a public Display of your own lamentable and incorrigible Ignorance.
This chicken’s not for turning.
There has never been a chicken in this photograph.
Why, indeed? One’s social engagements whilst in town ought never expose one to such barbarous inconvenience – although, perhaps, if one must cross a road, one may do far worse than to cross it as the chicken in question.
Hardly the most urgent enquiry to make of a low-grade insurance clerk who woke up that morning as a hen.
It is, of course, inevitable that such a loathsome, filth-ridden and degraded creature as Man should assume to question the actions of one in all respects his superior.
To have turned back were as tedious as to go o’er.
Clearly, having fallen victim to the fallacy of misplaced concreteness.
An die andere Seite zu kommen. (Much laughter)
That is not the question.
It crosseth for thee.
It was mimicking my Lord Hervey.
To get a better view.