All up and down the lit-up nightlife strip on Chicago’s North Lincoln Avenue, I see signs of the coming apocalypse.
Chicken wings chicken wings chicken wings! Every establishment has a sign in the window that says Come on in for some deee-licious chicken wings. Get ‘em while they’re hot! There’s even an establishment called Buffalo Wild Wings, with a logo of a great winged buffalo that has its hooves planted firmly on the ground.
This all frightens me greatly, this insatiable human appetite for chicken wings. When did that fad begin anyway? Whenever it began, that’s when the collapse of human civilization began, too. If a guy was to take the discarded bones from all the chicken wings consumed in a year on North Lincoln alone and pile them on top of each other, well, he’d probably be shipped off to a psych ward or something before long. But my point is this is an example of the type of delirious consumption that can’t be sustained. Chickens can only produce other chickens so fast. Eventually demand will greatly outpace supply. Surely this will disturb earth’s delicate ecological balance in some potentially cataclysmic way, which is what can happen when predator decimates prey. Or it