When October meant hunting in the high desert



In October, during my sophomore year of high school, my schedule was: school from 8 a.m. to 3 p.m., football practice 4 p.m. to 6 p.m., and a couple of nights working at the gas station.

And then on Fridays, I’d come home, and my dad would be packing for that weekend’s hunting trip.

This was what every dog craved, every dog dreamed of, the heroic duty they’d been bred for, for tens of thousands of years!

Usually, we’d be joined by my dad’s doctor friends and their kids of a similar age. Forming a caravan, our party would drive the three hours from Portland into the high desert and then onto the land of a rancher friend.

Into the wild

Arriving late at night, we’d continue several miles into a sagebrush and rimrock canyon, the cars and trucks rocking violently up and down, side to side on the primitive road. Often the only thing visible was the swirling dust in the headlight beams in front of us.

We’d camp near a small stream on a flat spot beneath some trees. Once the cars had stopped, we 12- to 15-year-old kids were forced out into the bitter cold to help set up camp. It seemed an impossible task, our hands instantly numb, the darkness impenetrable.

Somehow we did it though — with our dads’ supervision. We gathered the tent stakes, unrolled the canvases, unpacked the folding tables and camp chairs.

When I let the dogs out of their travel cages, they would tear around the campsite, apoplectic with excitement, utterly ecstatic to be in this remote environment, so rich with the presence of undomesticated animal life. New smells, new creatures, so much to explore and investigate.

A dog’s life

Warmed by activity, we pounded the tent stakes in and lifted the formless canvas tents into habitable shapes.

A Coleman lantern was lit. And a fire. If it wasn’t too late, our dads would enjoy a hot toddy and sigh to themselves, happy to be away from civilization, the hospital, their schedules, their wives.

But the dogs were the happiest of all. They too were finally free of civilizational restraint, the bloodless world of kitty litter and doggie treats, leashes and poop bags.

Now they were in the wild, in the realm of predator and prey: wolves, coyotes, deer, and rattlesnakes. And best of all, birds that they could chase through the brush and brambles in furious contests of speed and agility.

The danger, the adventure, the thrill of the hunt! This was what every dog craved, every dog dreamed of, the heroic duty they’d been bred for, for tens of thousands of years!

Bottom of the bag

When it was time to sleep, I would unfold my cot and spread out my sleeping bag in the faint light of a flashlight.

The high desert altitude and bracing cold always left me punch drunk, and by the time I climbed into my sleeping bag, I could barely keep my eyes open.

My father was a heavy-set man in his 40s. Originally from Iowa and of Scandinavian descent, he seemed unaffected by the frigid temperature. He stripped down to his underwear and once inside his sleeping bag, instantly fell asleep and began to snore.

I, on the other hand, was small and slight and was more of a “fetal position at the bottom of my sleeping bag” type of kid.

Desert dreams

Once my bag was warm and I was somewhat comfortable, I’d realize I forgot to piss. Which meant the life-or-death decision: Do I get up and go outside? Or try to hold it through the night?

But no, there was no holding it. I’d better piss. I just had to be tough. I had to be a man. I was on the frickin’ football team for God’s sake, I could get up and take a piss in the cold!

So I flung open my sleeping bag, rolled off my cot, and pushed through the tent flap, exposing my nearly naked body to the knife-like cold outside.

I stepped gingerly through the dirt and sagebrush in my bare feet. I then relieved myself, realizing as I did that it wasn’t that cold, I wasn’t going to die, and that in the moonlight, the desert was vivid and hushed and almost welcoming in its austere beauty.

Layers of ice

It would be very cold the next morning. Even colder than it had been at night. There would be frost on the ground. Water left out would now have a layer of ice.

But somehow, over the course of the night, I’d grown up a little. I’d morphed into someone a little more resilient than the suburban 15-year-old I’d been the day before.

So out I came from the tent, unafraid and without complaint.

The campfire was restarted. Breakfast was made and quietly eaten. Now there was talk of logistics. Where the birds might be. The options for the morning hunt.

The dogs were fed. Extra food for them. They would be having one of the greatest days of their short lives. They would barely be able to walk by nightfall.

Morning has broken

The first morning’s hunt was usually the most energetic. Everyone rested and ready to go. The dogs raced through the brush and over the rimrock, knowing without instruction exactly what to do and when to do it.

Like war, hunting is mostly walking and waiting, and waiting and walking, and wondering if anything will ever happen.

Followed by short bursts of extreme excitement, chaos, noise, and adrenaline when a covey of birds exploded into the air all around you.

RELATED: Defending the last place where men can be men

ABC Photo Archives/Getty Images

Rest and relaxation

We’d return to camp for lunch. And then back out again if the hunting was good. Or if there were no birds, maybe fishing in the afternoon.

Or sometimes, my dad would just take a nap. And I would relax in a camp chair and read a couple chapters of my assigned books for sophomore English: "Huckleberry Finn" or "Catcher in the Rye."

All parties would be back in camp by dark. If you’d caught or killed anything that day, you cleaned it now. The camp stove would be fired up. Often freshly caught trout would be fried in butter for dinner. If not, there were usually steaks in one of the coolers.

The dogs would have to be attended to. More food. More water. And extra praise and meat scraps, as they were the ones who dove into impenetrable thickets, dashed across precarious rim rock, or chased a pheasant into a treacherous ravine.

Always, the dogs were the heroes of the day and then the thoroughly exhausted warriors of the night.

Arriving back in Portland, late on a Sunday night, I would take a long, hot, deep-scrubbing shower and retire to my warm and comfortable suburban bed.

The next morning, it was back to my warm and comfortable suburban high school. But doing so with a secret and special experience of a type most kids would never have.

The environmental left will not admit what wind and solar destroy



Several studies by biologists and ornithologists are raising alarms about the toll so-called eco-friendly technologies are taking on birds and other wildlife. Many researchers who support alternative energy in principle are dropping the pretense that wind and solar are benign.

The problem begins with energy density. To generate the same reliable electricity as a natural gas plant or nuclear facility, wind and solar require thousands of additional acres. That is not ideology. It is physics. Yet in the rush to satisfy arbitrary “net zero” targets, the environment supposedly being protected gets destroyed.

The Mojave Desert tortoise, an ancient survivor of harsh conditions, is also losing to the solar boom.

Wind and solar facilities kill wildlife, fragment habitats, disrupt ecosystems, and leave ecological wreckage far beyond what the green lobby cares to admit. Politicians and well-funded environmental NGOs still sell wind and solar as the natural world’s saviors. The data shows something else entirely: These projects are not merely displacing wildlife. They are killing it on an industrial scale.

One shocking assessment found that wind and solar farms overlap with 2,310 threatened amphibian, bird, mammal, and reptile species globally, or 36% of the world’s threatened species. The green utopia is being built on the graves of the vulnerable.

Another study found that 2,206 operational renewable-energy facilities had degraded 886 protected areas, 749 key biodiversity areas, and 40 distinct wilderness areas. Researchers project that footprint will expand another 30% as more natural refuges are industrialized.

A review of 84 peer-reviewed studies of onshore wind installations documented 160 cases of species displacement affecting birds, bats, and various mammals.

For the golden eagle, the toll is measured in death. In the Western United States, documented mortalities more than doubled between 2013 and 2024, rising from 110 to 270.

An assessment of 42 African raptor species documented an 88% decline over 20 to 40 years and identified wind farms as a major factor. In China, the rush for wind power coincided with a nearly 10% decline in overall bird populations after wind-farm construction. In Changdao County, a critical migration route for 330 bird species, local communities reported reduced bird populations and increased pest activity. In a stunning admission of failure, officials demolished 80 wind turbines to save the ecosystem.

Solar power brings its own damage. Recent research shows that in humid regions, large-scale solar plants can trigger near-total vegetation collapse. Panels block sunlight, alter the microclimate, and destabilize soil. When roots disappear, the ecosystem’s foundation goes with them.

In desert ecosystems, solar arrays disrupt plant growth cycles and harm the microorganisms that keep the desert alive. In China, photovoltaic development has fragmented and degraded more than 2,100 square miles of agricultural, sandy, and grassy terrain.

Solar development also reduces species richness on intact landscapes. Perimeter fencing creates barriers that trap animals and block the genetic flow healthy populations need.

RELATED: America tried to save the planet and forgot to save itself

Sean Rayford/Getty Images

In the United States alone, solar energy is estimated to cause between 37,800 and 138,600 bird deaths each year. One reason is the “lake effect”: From the air, vast fields of solar panels resemble water.

A study from Poland confirmed this effect, showing that photovoltaic farms attract waterfowl because of water-like reflections. Birds descend expecting a lake and instead collide with scorching glass. Researchers identified 70 bird species at risk across six sites, with the highest collision risk concentrated within 650 feet of the installations.

The Mojave Desert tortoise, an ancient survivor of harsh conditions, is also losing to the solar boom. From 2004 to 2014, its population fell 39%. Industrial-scale solar projects have destroyed roughly 100,000 acres of its habitat. We are pushing out a species that has lived in the Mojave for millions of years to make room for panels that will be obsolete in 20.

The reckless expansion of low-density energy projects into valuable ecosystems must stop. The green transition is running red with the blood of the creatures we’re supposed to protect.

USDA exploring possibility of mass vaccinations for American poultry despite RFK Jr.'s warnings



Health and Human Services Secretary Robert F. Kennedy Jr. warned earlier this year that vaccinating poultry against highly pathogenic avian influenza A (H5) viruses might transform farms into incubators for mutant viruses — viruses that could potentially leap to humans.

"All of my agencies have advised against the vaccination of birds," Kennedy told Fox News' Sean Hannity, "because if you vaccinate with a leaky vaccine — in other words, a vaccine that does not provide sterilizing immunity, that does not absolutely protect against the disease — you turn those flocks into mutation factories."

"They're teaching the organism how to mutate," continued Kennedy. "And it's much more likely to jump to animals if you do that."

Despite Kennedy's concern — which is apparently shared by the National Institutes of Health, the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention, and the Food and Drug Administration — the U.S. Department of Agriculture is looking seriously at mass vaccinations for American poultry.

A USDA spokesperson told Blaze News that the USDA "is exploring the viability of vaccinating poultry for HPAI" but noted that the "use of any vaccine has not been authorized at this time."

This vaccine exploration appears to have taken on greater energy in February when egg prices were reaching record highs.

After flying south of $3 between 1994 and 2022, the price for a dozen eggs began to rise dramatically during the second half of the Biden era, then even higher earlier this year, reaching an all-time average high of $6.22 in March.

RELATED: The 'cage-free' myth: Why everything you think you know about ethical eggs is wrong

Allen J. Schaben/Getty Images

Although there were multiple factors at play — including the shift in various states to cage-free hens and record consumer demand — the price spikes were largely driven by the mass exterminations of commercial and backyard bird populations ordered by the USDA in response to HPAI viruses.

Blaze News previously noted that between Feb. 8, 2022 — when the USDA's Animal and Plant Health Inspection Service first confirmed bird flu belonging to the clade 2.3.4.4b in an American commercial flock — and March 2025, the USDA directed the extermination of over 166.41 million birds. Fewer egg-laying birds naturally means diminished supply and higher prices.

'Vaccination in any poultry sector — egg layers, turkeys, broilers, or ducks — will jeopardize the entire export market for all U.S. poultry products.'

In a Feb. 26 op-ed, Agriculture Secretary Brooke Rollins outlined "five steps to tackle avian flu and bring down costs for American families."

In addition to dedicating up to $500 million to help American poultry producers implement "gold-standard" biosecurity measures, increasing financial relief to farms whose flocks are affected by avian flu, removing "unnecessary regulatory burdens on egg producers where possible," and considering temporary import options, Rollins said her agency would "provide up to $100 million in research and development of vaccines and therapeutics, to improve their efficacy and efficiency."

Although egg prices have returned to relatively normal levels, a USDA spokesperson told Blaze News that the agency continues "to evaluate the potential use of vaccines."

"Before making a determination, USDA, in consultation with federal partners, will solicit feedback from state officials, veterinarians, farmers, the public health system, and the American public," said the spokesperson. "USDA is working with federal and state officials and industry stakeholders to develop a potential plan for vaccine use in the United States."

Reuters indicated that industry members anticipate that the agency will complete its plan in July.

RELATED: Cleaning up Biden’s bird flu mess falls to Trump

Health Secretary Robert F. Kennedy Jr. (left) and Agriculture Secretary Brooke Rollins (right). Photo by Andrew Harnik/Getty Images

There is some controversy over the potential mass vaccination of poultry on the business side of the equation.

Dr. John Clifford, a former USDA chief veterinary officer who advises the USA Poultry & Egg Export Council, told Reuters that chicken meat producers would be dealt a crushing blow if importers stopped importing U.S. poultry over concerns that vaccines were masking the presence of HPAI in flocks.

Some industry groups are, however, warming up to the idea.

Although the National Chicken Council previously suggested that "vaccination in any poultry sector — egg layers, turkeys, broilers, or ducks — will jeopardize the entire export market for all U.S. poultry products," they have since suggested they are on board with the program if exports go unaffected.

The United Egg Producers are apparently even more gung-ho, having helped hatch a plan suggesting an initial vaccination for baby chicks, a subsequent booster shot, then routine testing.

Nicolas Hulscher, an epidemiologist and administrator at the McCullough Foundation, has suggested mass poultry vaccinations are unwise, telling Blaze News that Kennedy's "worries about mass animal H5N1 bird flu vaccination are fully grounded in robust science."

'Biosecurity remains the best and most prudent approach to mitigate the impact of the disease today.'

When asked about the possibility that the USDA might nevertheless proceed with the mass vaccination agenda, Hulscher said that "the USDA is ignoring the glaring risks of creating dangerous mutant strains with their plans to mass vaccinate poultry against bird flu amidst a bird flu animal pandemic."

Blaze News senior editor Daniel Horowitz drove home the point in a recent op-ed, noting that "leaky, waning vaccines that rely on suboptimal antibodies against rapidly mutating viruses can lead to immune tolerance and imprinting. This can cause the immune system to misfire, resulting in negative efficacy. Any short-term protection against severe disease often comes at a long-term cost as the viruses adapt and grow stronger."

Hulscher suggested that the best way forward when tackling HPAI in domestic flocks is better biosecurity: "Installing surface-air purification systems into farms, combined with iodine-based nasal/oral prophylaxis for farm workers, is a much less risky option than mass vaccination."

On this, it appears the USDA agrees.

The agency spokesperson told Blaze News that in the meantime, "because biosecurity remains the best and most prudent approach to mitigate the impact of the disease today, USDA also continues pursuing collaborative efforts with poultry farmers and companies on education, training, and implementation of comprehensive biosecurity measures."

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Bird-Watching Is Not A Hobby For Olds, It’s A Sport For Men

As a man of a certain age, I have developed an interest in backyard bird-watching. I am not yet to the stage where I go on bird-watching hikes or trips, nor am I particularly adept at identifying them solely by looks or their vocalizations. But I can mostly tell you which birds happen to be […]

FACT CHECK: Facebook Video Shows Dead Birds In South Dakota, Not China

The video was originally shared on Instagram on Feb. 17

'There is power in a name': American Ornithological Society is renaming over 70 species of birds to correct 'historic bias'



The leftist campaign to sever ties with the past in the name of equity and inclusion continues unabated, even in the sciences. The latest effort, undertaken by the American Ornithological Society, will ultimately see all species of birds in the United States and Canada renamed, purportedly to "address past wrongs and engage far more people."

The AOS announced Wednesday that starting in 2024, it will begin changing the names of 70-80 birds currently named after people. Whether or not this initiative for the birds will fly with zoologists and the general public remains to be seen.

"There is power in a name, and some English bird names have associations with the past that continue to be exclusionary and harmful today. We need a much more inclusive and engaging scientific process that focuses attention on the unique features and beauty of the birds themselves," said AOS president Colleen Handel, a biologist with the U.S. Geological Survey in Alaska.

"Everyone who loves and cares about birds should be able to enjoy and study them freely — and birds need our help now more than ever," added Handel.

The AOS has dabbled in this practice of erasing history to cater to the sensitivities of contemporary ideologues for years. In 2020, the AOS renamed McCown's Longspur the Thick-billed Longspur. This small prairie bird, also known as Rhynchophanes mccownii, was originally named after John P. McCown, an amateur avian collector who was a Confederate general.

Audubon reported that the 2020 decision was in part the result of the social justice Bird Names for Birds pressure campaign, whose activist organizers claimed that "eponyms (a person after whom a discovery, invention, place, etc., is named or thought to be named) and honorific common bird names (a name given to something in honor of a person) are problematic because they perpetuate colonialism and the racism associated with it."

The campaign was supported by various leftist factions, including the Black & Latinx Birders Scholarship, the Anti-racist Collective of Avid Birders, the Feminist Bird Club, and Philly Queer Birds.

"We're really clear that we want to listen to diverse voices, especially those of marginalized groups who haven't necessarily had a seat at the table until now, and work carefully towards a modernization of our nomenclature for birds," said Irby Lovette, a Cornell University professor and member of the AOS' classification committee.

In August 2020, the AOS announced it was committed "to evolve with respect to issues of social justice. ... It is encouraging to see that the ornithological community in North America as a whole is embracing this mission and recognizing the need for greater efforts toward inclusion, as evidenced by the massive support for Black Birders Week, Black Lives Matter, and other recent and important social movements that we've seen gain momentum in the public sphere."

The newly announced renaming of over 70 species next year won't be the end of it, as the AOS has made clear it will not stop until every last bird — at least 260 species with people's names — is renamed to the satisfaction of activists.

While the names birders and virtually everyone else have grown accustomed to will be erased, the AOS indicated that scientific names for the birds will be preserved. The bald eagle could, for instance, lose its familiar moniker, but it would remain the Haliaeetus leucocephalus.

The Eskimo curlew, the Inca dove, and the flesh-footed shearwater are among the many names on the chopping block, reported USA Today.

Scott's oriole, named for Winfield Scott, will similarly be depersoned. Scott served as commanding general of the U.S. Army from 1841 to 1861, serving in the War of 1812, the Indian Wars, and the Mexican-American War. Not only did Scott, said by Ulysses S. Grant to have been "the finest specimen of manhood [his] eyes had ever beheld," capture Mexico City and defeat General Antonio Lopez de Santa Anna's armies on multiple occasions, but he later went on to advise President Abraham Lincoln at the outset of the Civil War. Despite his service to the nation that made the OAS possible, Old Fuss and Feathers will reportedly no longer have a bird to his name on account of his hand in driving Cherokee Indians from their lands.

The AOS indicated that it is establishing a new committee to oversee this destructionist campaign, vowing to ensure that its members will be "diverse" with "expertise in the social sciences, communications, ornithology, and taxonomy."

Judith Scarl, AOS executive director and CEO, said, "As scientists, we work to eliminate bias in science. But there has been historic bias in how birds are name and who might have a bird named in their honor. Exclusionary naming conventions developed in the 1800s, clouded by racism and misogyny, don’t work for us today, and the time has come for us to transform this process and redirect the focus to the birds, where it belongs."

"I am proud to be part of this new vision and am excited to work in partnership with a broad array of experts and bird lovers in creating an inclusive naming structure," added Scarl.

Scarl further suggested that acquiescence to activists' demands might generate sufficient interest to reverse bird population declines.

Just as American birds are losing their names, so are the habitats in which they nest.

Blaze News previously detailed how the Biden administration is working to change the names of thousands of historic sites and federal spaces perceived by activists to be derogatory.

In November 2021, Secretary of the Interior Deb Haaland declared by secretarial order the Algonquin word for woman to be a derogatory term and ordered the Board on Geographic Names to begin to remove the term from federal usage.

Some of the changes are simple English substitutions. For instance, Squaw Dance Valley in Navajo County, Arizona, was changed to Cliff Rose Valley, and Little Squaw Brook in Hamilton County, New York, is now Onion Brook. Other changes swapped out perceived derogatory titles for names in native languages. For example, Squaw Gulch in Alaska became Jëjezhuu Tr'injàa Gulch.

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Environmentalist drag queen helps National Audubon Society promote climate change alarmism: 'Nature can be a part of your lives as queer people'



The National Audubon Society has joined forces with a drag queen to promote climate change alarmism.

"For Pride Month, Audubon partnered with drag queen and intersectional environmentalist Pattie Gonia, to bring you Birds Tell Us: The Song of the Meadowlark, a message of hope for the future of our planet," Audubon noted.

In a video, Pattie Gonia, who identifies on Instagram as a "professional homosexual," can be seen clad in a winged costume.

"Birds tells us ... that the climate is changing," Gonia says as music plays during the video.

In response to a tweet about the project John Hawkins commented, "You guys desperately need to hire a regular person to run stuff like this by in the future because apparently no one there is in touch with what normal human beings think."

\u201c@audubonsociety You guys desperately need to hire a regular person to run stuff like this by in the future because apparently no one there is in touch with what normal human beings think\u201d
— Audubon Society (@Audubon Society) 1655151600

Conservative commentator Matt Walsh tweeted an image of Pattie Gonia and remarked, "Serious question: why do drag queens always dress like either the evil step mother in a Disney film or a character from Nightmare Before Christmas? Is this what they think women look like? Have they ever seen a woman in real life?" In another tweet he added, "And how is this not considered at least as offensive as black face?"

Audubon noted on its website that "Pattie Gonia, the drag persona of Wyn Wiley, is an environmentalist who uses her platform to highlight issues around climate change and inclusivity in the outdoors" and that "Pattie wants more LGBTQ+ people to feel empowered to engage with nature and the outdoors."

"Nature can be a part of your lives as queer people. You don’t have to run to a big city to find yourself!" Pattie Gonia said.

"The National Audubon Society protects birds and the places they need, today and tomorrow, throughout the Americas using science, advocacy, education, and on-the-ground conservation," according to its website.

Birds Tell Us: The Song of the Meadowlark www.youtube.com

'The racist legacy many birds carry': Lengthy Washington Post feature gets hilarious reaction from Tucker Carlson. And he's not alone.



So, the Washington Post published a recent story with the following headline, "The racist legacy many birds carry."

Yes, birds.

Thank you to the heroes of @washingtonpost for highlighting the legacy of racist birds. We must decolonize those a… https://t.co/jwDSKzHppw

— Gad Saad (@GadSaad) 1623802786.0

In fairness, it's not so much that the Post is saying certain birds are racist, as in wearing-red-MAGA-hats racist, which, of course, would be a cardinal sin of sorts:

Washington Post Racist Birds of America... https://t.co/kNZZfHHJMn

— Ronna DeBrucki (@DebruckiRonna) 1623736034.0

No, the Post's piece focuses on a debate on whether to change as many as 150 names of birds that "honor people with connections to slavery and supremacy."

More from the story:

The Bachman's sparrow, Wallace's fruit dove and other winged creatures bear the names of men who fought for the Southern cause, stole skulls from Indian graves for pseudoscientific studies that were later debunked, and bought and sold Black people. Some of these men stoked violence and participated in it without consequence.

Even John James Audubon's name is fraught in a nation embroiled in a racial reckoning. Long the most recognized figure in North American birding for his detailed drawings of the continent's species, he was also an enslaver who mocked abolitionists working to free Black people. Some of his behavior is so shameful that the 116-year-old National Audubon Society — the country's premier bird conservation group, with 500 local chapters — hasn't ruled out changing its name. An oriole, warbler and shearwater all share it.

"I am deeply troubled by the racist actions of John James Audubon and recognize how painful that legacy is for Black, Indigenous and people of color who are part of our staff, volunteers, donors and members," interim chief executive Elizabeth Gray said in a statement in May, the Post reported. "Although we have begun to address this part of our history, we have a lot more to unpack."

The Post's story on the matter spans nearly 2,000 words, which no doubt involved a lot of effort. But the clear premise is the same as numerous other campaigns in the wake of George Floyd's death and the riots that followed over the summer of 2020: To cleanse the American landscape of any hint of past real or alleged racism, no matter how far removed from the present day.

And that involved toppling and defacing and removing statues of Founding Fathers, a push to scrub the names of not-woke-enough-figures such as — believe it or not — Abraham Lincoln from school buildings in San Francisco, and canceled sales of Dr. Seuss children's books.

Now birds must be renamed, apparently.

How are folks reacting?

Fox News host Tucker Carlson aired a very funny segment on the matter Tuesday night, which you can view at the bottom of this story.

Others did the best they could to also make fun of the growing controversy. Outspoken podcaster Adam Carolla presumably had the Post's piece in mind when he tweeted the following Wednesday:

A group of crows is called a "murder" and a group of ravens is called an "unkindness." Yet a group of owls is call… https://t.co/X3TJ3WI6hk

— Adam Carolla (@adamcarolla) 1623855547.0

Others just couldn't help themselves, either:

  • "Soon, we will only be able to refer to all birds as they or them. The ⁦⁦@washingtonpost⁩ has too many researchers," one commenter wrote. "Parrots. There. I said it and I'm glad I said it."
  • "A bird pooped on my car the other day. I thought that it was because I parked near a telephone line, but it was white supremacy all this time," another user quipped. "I'm so tired of all this oppression."
  • "Birds are pretty racist... But not as racist as the combined hatred ducks and beavers have against the platypus," another commenter noted.
  • "That bird with the racist look in its eye," another user observed. "You can totally tell!"

Here's Carlson's reaction:

Tucker: We must dismantle all systems of bird-supremacyyoutu.be