Printed and bound By Ripe Digital Ltd. Park Lane Industrial Estate, Corsham, Wiltshire, SN13 9LG. Typeset in Scala Sans. Designed by Martin Majoor, 1993. Thanks to the people who have taken their time to speak to me and allowed to take photos on their premises. Jabba, Manager at Charcoal Chicken , for taking the time to answer my questions and give me an insight to the fast food industry and for the free meal. Thanks to the staff at St. Werburgh’s City Farm for letting me take photos and for letting me inside the chicken enclosure. A.J. Barlow & Sons Butchers, Birmingham Indoor Market, Birmingham, B5 4PQ Charcoal Chicken, Hall Green, Birmingham, B28 8AF St. Werburgh’s City Farm, St. Werburgh’s. Bristol, BS2 9YJ Windmill Hill City Farm, Bedminster, Bristol, BS3 4EA Designed and Written By Rob Ashley. All rights reserved. 2012
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e r u t l u C p o P So what does that old phrase “pop culture” mean again?! It’s always banned about, especially if you work in any industry that’s the slightest bit creative. But does anyone actually know how you’re meant to define it? It seems such a broad term, because what’s pop, like pop music, it’s popular. But to who? Your mother or your 5 year old daughter. There are a few different ways,in which it has been defined, some that say it’s the opposite of “High Culture”, anything favoured by those who are “low cultured” in a way like a leftover of all that is high in its value or worth. Or is it mass culture? Something mass produced for a mass audience. Or is it defined by the people through what they at large choose and reject? This is a possible way of defining pop culture, as the cultural products that are widely accepted. However is this an active choice or is it passive acceptance through large scale advertising?
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Itâ€™s hard to say but, I think all of these could be accepted as pop culture; and for the purposes of this book (which is almost cataloguing chicken references in pop culture) pretty much any of these definitions works. This is mainly because of the widespread commodification and mainstreaming of Chicken. In plain English we bloody love chicken and anything to do with it!
y r o t s i H f o t i Little B Chicken is without doubt our little nation’s most mainstream meat. From every swanky restaurant you dine at, to your cheapest fast food and burger restaurant, traditional British cuisines to trendy Thai cuisines, you’ll find the not-so-humble chicken. The origins of chicken aren’t completely clear, although it is widely believed that they are descendants of the Wild Red Jungle Fowl from South East Asia; and that travellers and nomadic people have transported them around the world. Chickens are thought to have reached Eastern Europe around 3000 bc but not reaching the Western part of Europe until nearly 1000 bc. Chickens were first domesticated, (taken in and given a home, or at least a straw bale) in eastern Asia; where they were reared for Cockfighting. They were seen as very masculine creatures that had great fighting instincts and were exploited for this nature. Sometimes metal spikes were added or put in place of a Cocks natural spur to cause more damage to their opposing Cock. They were often fed garlic and onion to make them more aggressive also.
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Chickens have also played a strange part in Religion since their discovery and domestication. Seen as exotic creatures, especially in Greece. They were seen as fearless and to have something of the Gods in them, attributes similar to the likes of Athena, Hercules and Ares. Because of this reason they didn’t tend to use Chickens for sacrificial offerings even though this was a regular ritual performed in their culture. In ancient Roman culture, they were seen as oracles, when they appeared from the left they were said to be showing a favourable omen upon the person. Keepers of such special and highly regarded birds were known as ‘pillarius’.
e t o N t r o h S A STAND ON WHERE WE
Chickens are farmed in a number of different ways to get the best of certain merits, and these different ways of treating chicken end up producing different tastes and qualities. Chickens are generally bred for either Laying Eggs or Rearing Meat; and occasionally, in certain breeds of chicken, they are bred specifically for entering competitions and showcasing. Some breeds are better for laying hens and can produce up to 300 eggs a year.
The best Egg Layers Leghorn Rhode Island Red Black Star Cuckoo Maran Light Sussex Barred Rock Red Star
Other breeds are seen as better ‘broiler’, ‘table’ or meat birds. Typically they gain weight quicker and convert less amount of feed into more muscle and meat, than other types of birds producing plenty of chicken breasts for our greasy Boneless Banquets. These different types of chicken are all kept in different ways to get the most out of them. Laying Hens are either subjected to batteryfarm conditions were they famously are allowed the same amount of space that this very page takes up. Free rangers fair a bit better, with outside space to roam, (which they generally don’t use as effectively as most farmers would like) and better treatment all round.
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Often broilers are reared in factory farms, which encourages quick weight gain and use of various substances to add more meat to the birds. This can lead to Chickens being crippled because there young bodies can’t really support all the weight. Some even end up dying of heart failure and other weight related things like starvation from literally not being able to reach the food and water. As with free range eggs layers, free range broilers tend to be given mainly the same treatment, and are slaughtered later than factory farmed birds, around 14 weeks being the norm for free range compared with a very short 5 weeks. In 2000 new E.U. legislation ruled that chickens were to be given better treatment and that they’d give a 12 year phasing out period for battery farming operations. All set ups like this had to give them bigger space allowance in their cages, and a spot to nest their eggs. Although sceptics see the space allowance and other small changes as just a scratching of the surface, at least it’s a start.
Devon charity rehouses last battery hen A chicken - being described as “Britain’s last battery hen” - has been given a new home in Devon. The hen, named Liberty, was re-housed in time for the EU-wide ban on small, cramped cages.From 1 January, cages will have to provide enough space for birds to spread their wings, perch and be able to move around. But the British Hen Welfare Trust said not all EU countries would adhere to the ban. The ban was brought about after animal welfare campaigners fought for four decades to outlaw battery cages. Jane Howarth, from the British Hen Welfare Trust, said over December volunteers had re-housed 6,000 battery hens, with just one more to be rehomed. She said: “She will be sitting in her cage very unaware that we’re going to arrive and bring her out. We are looking forward to getting her. She will be living with me.”
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Posted 29 Decenmber 2011 by BBC News
While she is confident the UK will adhere to the ban, Mrs Howarth and her members have concerns about other countries. She said: “The British egg industry has really stepped up to the mark and they are ready. But at the moment we’re looking at a situation where there could be 80 million hens still in illegal cages in Europe.” The British Hen Welfare Trust said the new cages can hold up to 90 birds, which will have space to spread their wings, perch and be able to go from one end of the cage to the other. The cage will now have to provide 750 square centimetres of space for each bird. The cage must also contain litter, perches and claw-shortening devices.
This article is an extract from "Chicken Feed" a blog post from a chicken keeper in America. Posted on 20th April 2010. You can find the original post at: http://dearlittlewater.blogspot.com/2010/04/chicken-feed.html
The Secret to a
Well Fed Bird Ingredients
Afew weeks ago I started thinking about what we feed our chickens. They are free-roaming in our (fenced) yard during the day, and we give them a good amount of kitchen scraps and leftovers, but they also love to eat their feed that we get from the hardware store. We really haven't found a good, organic brand of chicken feed locally. For a while we were buying organic feed from a farm that was ordering it from Virginia, but they stopped ordering it after a few months of using it, because of the cost of shipping it down here. So we've been using Layena, which they like just fine, but I'm pretty sure is full of factoryfarmed animal parts and GMO corn and soy. Not exactly what I want to be supporting, or putting into my eggs. So, enter my awesome friend Monica, who kindly showed me how much fun it is to make your own chicken feed! And that's just what I did.
2 or 3-4 cups corn (use the larger quantity in the winter) 4 cups winter wheat 3 cups spring wheat 1 cup barley 1 cup oats 1-2 cups sunflower seeds 1 1/2 cups millet 1 1/2 cups quinoa 1 cup sesame seeds 1 cup lentils 1 cup split peas 1/2 cup flax 1/2 cup Fertrell Nutribalancer (per 10 lbs feed, depending on quantities you use) 1 1/2 cup fish meal (per 10 lbs feed)
15 Here's the recipe she gave me. It's modified Ruling The Roost
from here based on the grains we can find easily in our area.
You can substitute amaranth for the quinoa or millet sometimes, or give other grains like kamut, if you can find it in your area.
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In these modern times where we find it possible to waste pretty much anything, we often find it weird or even alarming when we hear of cuisines which use undesirable meat or ‘Offal’ as a delicacy. We’re all guilty of having a stomach curdling moment or making a loud retching noise when we see something that’s not so pleasing on the eye or unusual to the taste buds. These are individual, special and historical dishes, but some times its hard to not say 'Errr'. So I'll rattle through some of what I'd consider to be the most appetising chicken dinners and those that I'd rather not get involved with.
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s g n i W o l a f f Bu Buffalo Wings are like an institution these days, served everywhere using variations on the original recipe and served at varying degrees of spice. It’s without doubt one of my favourite dishes. Nowadays they are not only served in casual bars and restaurants, everyone’s in on them. I’ve been served wings in Italian restaurants, Caribbean restaurants and local pubs. The best must be served in Buffalo though, right? These strangely small parts of the chicken, used to be generally just used for making chicken stock. But their popularity has increased tenfold over the past few decades, with the creation of recipes like Buffalo wings. There creation is credited to a bar owner/restaurateur Teressa Bellissimo from Buffalo, New York. However there are varying versions of the story of how they first came to pass.
Photo U.S. Guard off duty cooking buffalo chicken wings for fellow staff.
Buffalo Chicken Wings, as tradirtionally served with
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The wings have gained so much publicity now that even large companies like Frank’s Red Hot jump on the marketing bandwagon, claiming that it was there hot Sauce used in the very original recipe for the Buffalo wings. A claim they even print on the bottles of their hot sauce these days. The buffalo wing have been the basis for festivals and events, the best known being ‘The Buffalo Wing Festival’ held in Buffalo annually since 2002.
C d Frie This dish is so well known it’s like beating your head against a brick wall evening mentioning it in a book about Chicken, however as well known as it is, it’s roots are a mystery to many, including myself until recently. The chicken is well known from being from the south of the United States and often called Southern Fried Chicken. However, it’s believed that the idea of frying chicken was brought to the south by Scottish Immigrants, who had already had a tradition of deep frying chicken in fat, where as other European countries, especially England usually baked or roasted chicken. Chicken was also fried and sometimes battered in parts of West Africa but due to its expensive ingredients it was considered a special dish. When African slaves were introduced to the south of America, they were cooks in Scottish homes and adapted the dish, introducing new
spices that were absent from traditional Scottish dishes. Slaves werenâ€™t allowed to keep expensive meat animals, but chickens were cheap and easy to raise, and therefore were an obvious choice. This kept the tradition of fried chicken going and becoming a special part of southern African American foods. Being served initially as a special dish at occasions like Thanksgiving. As chickens and ingredients have become cheaper this dish has become even more popular and more regular in American food.
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n e k c i h C
The dish has become so popular, it’s often associated with Black and African American culture in particular. The early 20th century saw it used a stereotypical and racial association with African Americans, restaurants such as ‘Coon Chicken Inn’ used the association with blacks in southern united states to popularise and authenticate their chickens quality. It’s association with being an African American or black cuisine is shifting with time and with its rise of popularity through restaurants like KFC and is now a global industry. The fried chicken industry in the UK has especially taken off, with many city streets now littered with small outlets producing there own take on this classic dish.
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Manifesto from the Infamous, politically and morally backwards fried chicken restaurtrant.
The Menu used in the restaurant, is shown to be playing on the stereotype of a Black Man, not seemingly the brightest in the bunch. In a clownesque outift smiling about the chicken served at this restaurant.
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n e k c i h C t s a Ro A classic British dinner, you can’t beat a good roast on a Sunday and one of the most loved meats is Chicken. Stick some potatoes, some roast veg, a bit of parsnip, a few Yorkshires and you’ve got yourself a nice little Roast Chicken dinner. Chicken’s been the most popular meat in Europe since 1996, taking over from Beef or Veal, because of the B.S.E. disease, or better known as Mad Cow Disease. But roast chicken was a popular Sunday dish way before this. Every Chef these days has there take on the Sunday roast chicken, Jamie Oliver and Delia Smith included. But nothing beats a good home roast.
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c i h C k Jer This spicy Caribbean dish is becoming widely known throughout Europe and America. Jerk Chicken is a favourite with Caribbean locals and well known now as it shows up on high streets in Britain and America. Its popularity has risen through Caribbean events such as Notting Hill Carnival, and other festivals. It’s one of my all time favourite dishes and I try my hand at it on a regular basis, using pastes and seasonings from companies like ‘Dunn Rivers’ which are readily available in supermarkets like Tesco’s, Sainsbury’s and Asda. It is believed that Jerk chicken arose from the influence of African spices and cooking to Jamaica. Jerked food was usually smoked, to keep away insects and to preserve it for longer once cooked. Alternative theories say that the name jerk comes from the fact that the meat was poked, (jerked) so that spices could be stuffed into the meat prior to being cooked. Hence the term jerked meat.
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n e k c
Yummy Walkie-Talkies Don’t play fowl! Chicken thighs and breasts are positively tasty, but why throw away the rest of this otherwise appetising poultry? As any good cook from China, Jamaica or Peru will happily explain, some of the best bits of this bird include the liver, gizzard and feet! In South Africa, “Walkie –Talkies” are a common traditional township delicacy. To prepare it, the feet — the “walkies” — and head — the “talkie”— are boiled to remove the tough outer layer of skin; they are then covered with seasonings and grilled. Explore the local food markets in Durban or Soweto and you are likely to stumble upon this classic savoury snack. Other regional specialities include mngqusho — a dish made from samp (cracked corn) and beans — and “smileys,” which are whole roasted sheep’s heads, each still bearing a gruesome toothy grin.
Extract from “Care for a Fried Tarantula with Your Guinea Pig? Some Foods Are an Acquired Taste” By Laurel Angrist. Posted on www. thetravelword.com
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n e k c i h C l a o Charc iew
A Meaty Interv
A funny oppurtunity landed in my lap when I was out taking photos for this book. I had just taken a picture of one of my favourite chicken shops, not far from my house. I had got less than 100 feet from the shop when a man came dashing down the road after me. It was Jabba, the manager of Charcoal Chicken, and shortly after he kindly agreed to do an interview with me.
How long have you been dealing with Chicken? J:My background's actually sports, I went to university, got a sports degree and I ended up working with the police services. After that I came back to open a business with my family. They had an idea, to sell barbeque food, mainly chicken. So I got into the chicken business about 12 years ago in 2000. I was originally working with a friend who produced “Halal” chicken, but I found out he was no good and started using a different supplier.
Why do you think chicken’s so popular? J:It’s cheap (he chuckles) It’s the cheapest large source of protein that you can get. It’s become such a norm nowadays to have cheap chicken. For example the national newspapers have highlighted suppliers such as Maggot Pete. He was selling contaminated meat, bleaching them white and selling them on. It’s that common!
Where do you stand on the issue of free range meat? J: People don’t realise Halal isn’t just the way you slaughter your meat, It’s the whole process. So if you don’t feed the chicken, kick the crap out of it and slaughter it and expect a blessing, you can forget it! It may not have human rights but you’ve gotta show respect. If you respect what you eat, what you produce is gunna be good. (A guy in his early 30’s walks in) Jabba: This is the driver for my supplier.
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At your farm, are the chickens running about outside? Are they free range? Driver: Yep, they’ve got a shed, but they’re mainly outside. There’s a fence to stop them running into the road, but they’ve got loads of outside space.
Apart from being a halal chicken shop, how would you say that you differ from other restaurants? J: The big difference is if you walk into any shop, you will not have 6 items on the menu. In here, we serve whole chicken, half chicken, Jerk chicken, wings, burgers and a chicken salad. There are 6 items, Period. If you go to any other shop you’ll get a processed product. I like mine to be local; I like it to be British. If it ain’t local, It ain’t British I’m not interested, It’s a simple as that! I can get chickens for less than a pound from Brazil, Denmark, Holland. I care about my product, I eat my food and so do my family. n.b The chicken burgers are just chicken breast fillets, not coated or batttered; seasoned and charcoaled to perfection. Thanks for the burger meal Jabba.
How did Charcoal start? Where did the name come from? J: Truth is it’s my brother’s idea and he came up with the name. I’m just here enjoying the journey. Me: Was it his idea to Barbeque the chicken? J: Well if you look back in the past, the basic way to cook your food was barbeque and cooking over charcoal.
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Would you say the names hinting back to a more basic time? J:If we went back to basics, we’d be a lot healthier. In my day there were traditional butchers who specialised in a certain type of meat. Fresh, local and had unique tastes. Now you’ve got the same mundane taste. It ain’t fresh, local and unique, I’m not interested.
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Chicken is in our society, our culture and our homes and its here to stay. If you take a minute to actually add up how many chicken characters, stories and references we have, youâ€™d be surprised. Many of them are so standard you hardly bat an eyelid when you are shown one. But in the coming sections I wanted to show you a few very obvious references of Chicken, with a few more obscure and older ones to sweeten the journey.
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Cock a doodle doo Cock a doodle doo, My dame has lost her shoe; My master's lost his fiddle stick, And knows not what to do. Cock a doodle doo, What is my dame to do? Till master finds his fiddling stick She'll dance without her shoe. Cock a doddle doo, My dame has found her shoe, And master's found his fiddling stick She'll now dance with her shoe. Cock a doodle doo, My dame will dance with you, While master fiddles his fiddling stick, For dame and doodle doo.
nursery rhyme first published in 1765 in Mother Goose’s Melody. But the origins possibly date back to the 1600s. Even if you can’t recite it word for word, you’ll know the saying Cock a doodle doo!
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I’m sure most British children of the 20th century know the popular English
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Henny Penny Chicken Licken’, Chicken Little or any other cute rhyming poultry puns
Another ambiguously familiar childhood story is that of Henny Penny, also known as Chicken Licken or Chicken Little. This fable known for its alternative endings is about a young chick who thinks the worlds coming to an end, when an acorn falls on her head, leading her to believe that “The Sky is falling!”. In many western adaptations of the story the chick goes to find the king to tell him and along her journey meets other animals who join her. The animals are tricked into a fox’s lair where he eats them all. However in some happier endings the chick gets away and manages to reach the king. The moral of the story changes depending on ending. The popular ending is often thought to be warnings to not believe everything you’re told. The moral of the happy endings are to be courageous and not to chicken out of doing the right thing.
ne day Henny penny was picking up corn in the corn yard when whack! — something hit her upon the head. “Goodness gracious me!” Said Henny Penny; “the sky’s a–going to fall; I must go and tell the king.” So she went along and she went along and she went along till she met Cocky Locky. “Where are you going, Henny Penny?” Says Cocky Locky. “Oh! I’m going to tell the king the sky’s a–falling,” says Henny Penny. “May I come with you?” Says Cocky Locky. “Certainly,” says Henny Penny. So Henny Penny and Cocky Locky went to tell the king the sky was falling. They went along, and they went along, and they went along, till they met Ducky Daddles. “Where are you going to, Henny Penny and Cocky Locky?” Says Ducky Daddles. “Oh! We’re going to tell the king the sky’s a–falling,” said Henny Penny and Cocky Locky. “May I come with you?” Says Ducky Daddles. “Certainly,” said Henny Penny and Cocky Locky. So Henny Penny, Cocky Pocky and Ducky Daddles went hto tell the king the sky was a-falling. So they went along, and they went along, and they went along, till they met Goosey Poosey, “Where are you going to, Henny Penny, Cocky Locky and Ducky Daddles?” Said Goosey Poosey. “Oh! We’re going to tell the king the sky’s a-falling,” said Henny Penny and Cocky Locky and Ducky Daddles. “May I come with you?” said Goosey Poosey. “Certainly” said Henny Penny, Cocky Locky and Ducky Daddles. So Henny Penny, Cocky Locky, Ducky Daddles and Goosey Poosey went to tell the king the sky was a–falling. So they went along, and they went along, and they went along, till they met Turkey Lurkey. “Where are you going, Henny Penny, Cocky Locky, Ducky Daddles, and Goosey Poosey?” Says Turkey Lurkey. “Oh! We’re going to tell the king the sky’s a–falling,” said Henny Penny, Cocky Locky, Ducky Daddles and Goosey Poosey. “May I come with you? Henny Penny, Cocky Locky, Ducky Daddles and Goosey Poosey?” Said Turkey Lurkey.
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“Why, certainly, Turkey Lurkey,” said Henny Penny, Cocky Locky, Ducky Daddles, and Goosey Poosey. So Henny Penny, Cocky Locky, Ducky Daddles, Goosey Poosey and Turkey Lurkey all went to tell the king the sky was a–falling. So they went along, and they went along, and they went along, till they met Foxy Woxy, and Foxy Woxy said to Henny Penny, Cocky Locky, Ducky Daddles, Goosey Poosey and Turkey Lurkey: “Where are you going, Henny Penny, Cocky Locky, Ducky Daddles, Goosey Poosey, and Turkey Lurkey?” And Henny Penny, Cocky-locky, Ducky Daddles, Goosey Poosey, and Turkey Lurkey said to Foxy Woxy: “We’re going to tell the king the sky’s a–falling”. “Oh! but this is not the way to the king, Henny Penny, Cocky Locky, Ducky Daddles, Goosey Poosey and Turkey Lurkey," says Foxy Woxy; “I know the proper way; shall I show it you?” “Why certainly, Foxy Woxy,” said Henny Penny, Cocky Locky, Ducky Daddles, Goosey Poosey, and Turkey Lurkey. So Henny Penny, Cocky Locky, Ducky Daddles, Goosey Poosey, Turkey Lurkey, and Foxy Woxy all went to tell the king the sky was a–falling. So they went along, and they went along, and they went along, until they came to a narrow and dark hole. Now this was the door of Foxy Woxy’s cave. But Foxy Woxy said to Henny Penny, Cocky Locky, Ducky Daddles, Goosey Poosey, and Turkey Lurkey: “This is the short way to the king’s palace you’ll soon get there if you follow me.
“I will go first and you come after, Henny Penny, Cocky Locky, Ducky Daddles, Goosey Poosey, and Turkey Lurkey.” “Why of course, certainly, without doubt, why not?” said Henny Penny, Cocky Locky, Ducky Daddles, Goosey Poosey, and Turkey Lurkey. So Foxy Woxy went into his cave, and he didn’t go very far but turned round to wait for Henny Penny, Cocky Locky, Ducky Daddles, Goosey Poosey and Turkey Lurkey. So at last at first Turkey Lurkey went through the dark hole into the cave. He hadn’t got far when “Hrumph," Foxy Woxy snapped off Turkey Lurkey’s head and threw his body over his left shoulder. Then Goosey Poosey went in, and “Hrumph,” off went her head and Goosey Poosey was thrown beside Turkey Lurkey. Then Ducky Daddles waddled down, and “Hrumph,” snapped Foxy Woxy, and Ducky Daddles’ head was off and Ducky Daddles was thrown alongside Turkey Lurkey and Goosey Poosey. Then Cocky Locky strutted down into the cave and he hadn’t gone far when “Snap, Hrumph!” went Foxy Woxy and Cocky Locky was thrown alongside of Turkey Lurkey, Goosey Poosey and Ducky Daddles. But Foxy Woxy had made two bites at Cocky Locky, and when the first snap only hurt Cocky-locky, but didn’t kill him, he called out to Henny Penny. So she turned tail and ran back home, so she never told the king the sky was a–falling.
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The Little Red Hen Morals taught through the story of one hardworking Hen.
This chicken story is a little old folk tale of Russian origins (most likely anyway) which is almost parable or fable like. Often used to teach morals, a rather popular story in the America, which is often told to teach children about hard work and having a work ethic. Also related to personal initiative and doing things off of your own back. The Little Red Hen is said to give an alternative approach to teaching morals and good will in stories that differs from the old religious stories that held this responsibility. The story has been rewritten and reâ€“worded many times over to fit the use of any particular issue.
The Little Red Hen
Little Red Hen lived in a barnyard. She spent almost all of her time walking about the barnyard in her picketty–pecketty fashion, scratching everywhere for worms. She dearly loved fat, delicious worms and felt they were absolutely necessary to the health of her children. As often as she found a worm she would call “Chuck–chuck–chuck!” to her chickies. When they were gathered about her, she would distribute choice morsels of her tid–bit. A busy little body was she! A cat usually napped lazily in the barn door, not even bothering herself to scare the rat who ran here and there as he pleased. And as for the pig who lived in the sty — he did not care what happened so long as he could eat and grow fat. One day the Little Red Hen found a seed. It was a Wheat seed, but the Little Red Hen was so accustomed to bugs and worms that she supposed this to be some new and perhaps very delicious kind of meat. She bit it gently and found that it resembled a worm in no way whatsoever as to taste although because it was long and slender, a Little Red Hen might easily be fooled by its appearance.Carrying it about, she made many inquiries as to what it might be. She found it was a Wheat seed and that, if planted, it would grow up and when ripe it could be made into flour and then into bread. When she discovered that, she knew it ought to be planted. She was so busy hunting food for herself and her family that, naturally, she thought she ought not to take time to plant it. So she thought of the Pig — upon whom time must hang heavily and of the Cat who had nothing to do, and of the great fat Rat with his idle hours, and she called loudly: “Who will plant the Seed?” But the Pig said, “Not I,” and the Cat said, “Not I,” and the Rat said, “Not I.” “Well, then,” said the Little Red Hen, “I will.” And she did. Then she went on with her daily duties through the long summer days, scratching for worms and feeding her chicks, while the Pig grew fat, and the Cat grew fat, and the Rat
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grew fat, and the Wheat grew tall and ready for harvest. So one day the Little Red Hen chanced to notice how large the Wheat was and that the grain was ripe, so she ran about calling briskly: “Who will cut the Wheat?” The Pig said, “Not I,” the Cat said, “Not I,” and the Rat said, “Not I.” “Well, then,” said the Little Red Hen, “I will.” And she did. She got the sickle from among the farmer's tools in the barn and proceeded to cut off all of the big plant of Wheat. On the ground lay the nicely cut Wheat, ready to be gathered and threshed, but the newest and yellowest and downiest of Mrs. Hen's chicks set up a “peep-peep-peeping” in their most vigorous fashion, proclaiming to the world at large, but most particularly to their mother, that she was neglecting them. Poor Little Red Hen! She felt quite bewildered and hardly knew where to turn.Her attention was sorely divided between her duty to her children and her duty to the Wheat, for which she felt responsible. So, again, in a very hopeful tone, she called out, “Who will thresh the Wheat?” But the Pig, with a grunt, said, “Not I,” and the Cat, with a meow, said, “Not I,” and the Rat, with a squeak, said, “Not I.”
The Little Red Hen
So the Little Red Hen, looking, it must be admitted, rather discouraged, said, “Well, I will, then.” And she did, Of course, she had to feed her babies first, though, and when she had gotten them all to sleep for their afternoon nap, she went out and threshed the Wheat. Then she called out: “Who will carry the Wheat to the mill to be ground?” Turning their backs with snippy glee, that Pig said, “Not I,” and that Cat said, “Not I,” and that Rat said, “Not I.” So the good Little Red Hen could do nothing but say, “I will then.” And she did. Carrying the sack of Wheat, she trudged off to the distant mill. There she ordered the Wheat ground into beautiful white flour. When the miller brought her the flour she walked slowly back all the way to her own barnyard in her own picketty-pecketty fashion. She even managed, in spite of her load, to catch a nice juicy worm now and then and had one left for the babies when she reached them. Those cunning little fluff-balls were so glad to see their mother. For the first time, they really appreciated her. After this really strenuous day Mrs. Hen retired to her slumbers earlier than usual — indeed, before the colors came into the sky to herald the setting of the sun, her usual bedtime hour. She would have liked to sleep late in the morning, but her chicks, joining in the morning chorus of the hen yard, drove away all hopes of such a luxury. Even as she sleepily half opened one eye, the thought came to her that to-day that Wheat must, somehow, be made into bread. She was not in the habit of making bread, although, of course, anyone can make it if he or she follows the recipe with care, and she knew
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perfectly well that she could do it if necessary. So after her children were fed and made sweet and fresh for the day, she hunted up the Pig, the Cat and the Rat. Still confident that they would surely help her some day she sang out, “Who will make the bread?”Alas for the Little Red Hen! Once more her hopes were dashed! For the Pig said, “Not I,” the Cat said, Not I,” and the Rat said, “Not I.” So the Little Red Hen said once more, “I will then,” and she did. Feeling that she might have known all the time that she would have to do it all herself, she went and put on a fresh apron and spotless cook’s cap. First of all she set the dough, as was proper. When it was time she brought out the moulding board and the baking tins, moulded the bread, divided it into loaves, and put them into the oven to bake. All the while the Cat sat lazily by, giggling and chuckling. And close at hand the vain Rat powdered his nose and admired himself in a mirror. In the distance could be heard the long-drawn snores of the dozing Pig. At last the great moment arrived. A delicious odour was wafted upon the autumn breeze. Everywhere the barnyard citizens sniffed the air with delight. The Red Hen ambled in her picketty–pecketty way toward the source of all this excitement. Although she appeared to be perfectly calm, in reality she could only with difficulty restrain an impulse to dance and sing, for had she not done all the work on this wonderful bread? Small wonder that she was the most excited person in the barnyard! She did not know whether the bread would be fit to eat, but — joy of joys! — when the lovely brown loaves came out of the oven, they were done to perfection. Then, probably because she had acquired the habit, the Red Hen called: “Who will eat the Bread?” All the animals in the barnyard were watching hungrily and smacking their lips in anticipation, and the Pig said, “I will,” the Cat said, “I will,” the Rat said, “I will.” But the Little Red Hen said, “No, you won't. I will.” And she did.
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The Chicken Market Chicken Market, a bit of a found treasure if you ask me. I found this gem of an old story whilst scowering the internet. The story was originally written by Henry Morley. This seems to be one of those stories that was possibly passed down by word of mouth, I’d say this being as I couldn’t really find much of it or about it when I was searching for it online. The only place I could see with a copy of the original story was the Boston Public Library who release some of their literature online. I have only extracted the first chapter of the story to give you a flavour of the story and the tone in which it is written. If you’d like to read the rest of the story, which I’m sure many will after reading this brief introduction to the story, there will be a link to the Boston online library catalogue in which I found this piece. The story follows a young man who wishes to sell his collection of chickens on at a market. He encounters all sorts on the to this lovely market which he wishes to reach.
The Chicken Market
nce upon a time there was a rustic whose name was Ben Ody, and he knew more of what is in an egg than that it is something good to eat. He understood how one thing comes out of another. Ben Ody, when he had no more sense than the rest of the world, kept fowls; and when he grew to be so wise, he had been carrying his chickens to a pretty market. There is a woody wilderness in Dulmansland, and few reach to the heart of it ; but there is open market held by Fairies in the middle of that wilderness, and any man who gets to it may talk and traffic with the market people to his own great gain. Ben Ody knew that there was such a market, and resolved to carry thither a large basketful of chickens. Goody Madge Ody cried down his design. Chickens, she said, were worth three shillings a couple in their own good town of Peniworth, and that was their just price all the world over. He might grind down his legs from under him in travelling to the strange market, and find, she would answer for it, nobody but a fool to pay a shilling more. Ben Ody made answer to his wife that she talked like a woman, and then set out like a man upon his journey. He had not gone ten steps from his door before he met somebody who offered him four shillings a pair for all his Chickens. But Goodman Ben refused the money, saying to himself, one has not to go far to find a fool. He had not gone ten miles before he met somebody who offered for his Chickens four shillings apiece. Should he halt on his way to Fairy–land because he was tempted by so great a certainty of present gain? Ody covered up the basket with his pocket handkerchief, and travelled on. The very chickens cried “Cheap! Cheap!” to one another when the bargain was proposed. “I hope for better luck than that” said Ody, as he went his way. A forward young hen who was of the company in the basket, getting her head, after a little perseverance, through one of the holes in her master’s handkerchief, turned one eye up at him, and clucked, “Luck! Luck! Luck! Ha!”. He could not tell whether she spoke in sympathy or in derision. For, to the last, wise as he became, Ben Ody could not arrive at the whole and exact mind even of a hen. On the first night of his journey, Goodman Ben, when he came to an inn, supped upon juicy steak with oyster sauce, and bought wheat for
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his poultry. On the second night he had cold shoulder, and fed the chickens upon bran. On the third night he had sour milk for supper, and a very little bread, of which he gave all to his birds. Should he halt on his way to Fairy–land because he was repelled by so great a certainty of present hunger? On the fourth night he supped at a pig–trough, and slept in a barn, upon the floor of which his hens found pickings. On the fifth night he came to the sea coast, where a keen wind, blustering from the east, cruelly threatened to cut off his nose and ears. The wild waves champed on the restraining bit of shore, tossing abroad white flakes of foam. Behind the flying foam–flakes the wind raced, like a starved hound, whining. There was rough water stirring eagerly, flashing white lines, reflecting from the tempestuous sky, just quitted by the sun, a ghastly yellow light. But in the west, water and air were heavy with the purple gloom that buried all, and was not to be cloven even by the stroke of all the lightnings in it. Who could tell when it was from the wind, when from the wave, when from the cloud, that thunder came? In that fierce tumult a man’s ears were stuffed with the incessant roar, his eyes filled with the rising of great waters, and the rising also of their own small flood, under pinch of the wind that had a grip on every nerve. The tongue within the mouth was salted, and all juices of the flesh seemed to be brine. A driving rain began to whip the Goodman in the face. No shelter was to be had in the low red crags behind him, or on the flat, treeless land above. Beyond a gap in the cliffs, far away by a white sea-mark, a boat-house could be seen. But there was between the drenched man and that mockery of shelter a wide wet bog and the estuary of a river. Then fell upon his mind’s ear the voice of his Goody who talked like a woman, and upon his mind’s eye a vision of the market-place of Peniworth that was now left, a five days’ journey, behind his back. The chickens all were become cheerless — cold fowls without tongue. Ben Ody had their basket by this time under his gaberdine, that dripped and flapped over them, a dismal substitute for the warm mother’s wing, under which they still could remember how they once were nursed. Suddenly, through the splashing of the rain, light shone from their owner’s countenance.
The Chicken Market
Sore hunger, prompter of is wit, reminded him that he knew, as every man may know, one sentence, at least, of the speech of hens. The hint given him from the basket at the outset of his journey, which it had then suited his humour to consider English, belonged naturally to one of the languages of the great Poultry Stock, and was, in fact, Hennish for “I am about to lay an egg’’. “Where,” he cried, in his stomach, “is that egg?”. For eggs are good to eat, and I am desperately hungry”. There was a flutter in the basket, followed by a delicate rap on his elbow. Was that a mouse running down his sleeve? The egg was in his hand. “Pah!” said the countryman; “The egg’s alive! It can’t be eatable”. But Ben Ody put the two ends of the egg to his lips, and found one cold, the other hot. Right enough 1 he thought. So he made for himself a hole in the small end, sucked thereat, and was nearly choked before he knew that what he swallowed was tobacco-smoke. What wonder? Again and again had he prophesied to Goody, and said, “Goody, we shall have the poultry copying the puppies, and the chickens will soon learn to smoke before they break the shell”. How this young embryo came by his cigars was only one out of a thousand mysteries of the tobacco trade. Ben Ody peeped into the egg-shell, and the smoke immediately stung him in the eye. He might as well hope to look down a chimney when fresh wood has been laid on the fire below. Meantime, the wind howled and he sea roared in his ears, the rain lashed his face, and the salt spray leaped into his mouth as his teeth chattered with cold. The tobacco-smoke curled up from the egg like the smoke of a fusee that has burnt close to another sort of shell. “Next only to victuals comes tobacco,” sighed the weary man. “After you, therefore, if you please, my little chicken!”. A wisp of dead herbage was blowing by, and a bit of stout reed in it caught Ben’s attention. “I will have you” he thought, ‘’for a pipe-stem” and, accordingly, he thrust one end of it through a convenient part of the shell. Immediately a venerable head, as big as an old pea, as yellow and as wrinkled, but having as much white beard as a dozen dandelion seeds, thrust itself from inside through a hole of its own breaking, and cried, “How many more draughts are you going to expose me to,
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young man?”. “I beg your pardon, sir,” Ben Ody said. “You are no chicken !” “Why are you standing out there in the rain?” said the little man, still in a rage. “How much damp are you going to bring in with you!? Now then, the supper will get cold, as well as you!” Whether he himself had become smaller, or the egg had become larger, Ben could not then tell, for he had no point of comparison as he stood there in the tempest, with his face towards the boundless sea. Moreover, he was a man on such terms with himself, that in the most reduced condition he could not feel small. He could not, indeed, fail to perceive that his chicken-basket towered high above his head, its wicker sides rising like columns of a temple, in which there were enshrined sublime hens and a cock holding his head higher than any weather-cock in Dulmansland. But, ah ! what a fine lime-whited hermitage, tapestried inside from dome to floor with the most exquisite of tissues, was the vaulted chamber he had taken for an egg. Therein sat the yellow man, and by no means a little man, beside a fire hot enough to have parched his pea of a head (which now seemed to be as big as a ripe pumpkin), and there he knocked out the dead ashes from his pipe before he turned his chair round to the supper-table. The rain splashed and the wind howled outside, while the wide dome that sheltered them rocked like a great ship in the storm. For supper there was a bee’s thigh stewed in its own burden of honey; and Ben Ody was so hungry, that he ate slice after slice, and feasted
Available on the Boston Public Library archive at: http://archive.org/details/ chickenmarketoth00morl
on the honey until his clothes began to feel too tight for him. “Now,” said the yellow hermit, “My name’s Yolk, You are my guest, sir, and I am your servant. What dew do you take?” Here he produced two round bottles from a cupboard, each warranted to hold an exact unbroken dew-drop. “This,” he said, “is Thistledew, and this has been distilled on Woodbine Blossom.” Then Yolk broke the seal of one bottle carefully, produced a couple of cups, and shared with his guest a drop of Thistledew, at which they drank and drank, till prudence counselled them to leave a little in the bottle. Ody hardly knew what he had been talking about, so much had the dew risen to his head, when at last his servant became angry, and began to beat the table, shouting again and again, “ Shut your hand firmly upon what you want, and there you have it!” Then Ben Ody shut his hand, and there were barley corns forcing their way out between his fingers. He shut both his hands firmly, opened them side by side, so that he made a scoop of his two palms, and the scoop was at once full to overflowing of good barley. Then he knew that what he had been arguing about was supper for his fowls, and he went out to feed them.
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FOGHORN LEGHORN Foghorn Leghorn, a character from Warner Brothers’ cartoons created by Robert Mckimson and made his first performance in 1946 in Walky Talky Hawky. For those of you that aren’t familiar with him, he’s a large almost human like, rooster; known for his loud Virginia accent (southern twang) and his mischievous character. His voice and demeanour are largely based on those of Senator Claghorn, a radio voice character by radio comedian Kenny Delmar, Foghorn uses many similar phrases, such as “That’s A Joke, son”. References like this, within Warner Brother Cartoons were obvious at the time of creation but have lost their relevance and understanding over the years, which is a great shame, you can beat a good bit of parody comedy.
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Foghorn’s character was supported by nemesis character Barnyard Dawg. Foghorn being the mischievous and obnoxious character he was would aggravate Dawg often, with witty comments. Unusual for the Looney tunes however, Foghorn would often end up the butt of the jokes and have his annoying acts reverted. He often struts around singing or humming “Camptown Races” but not actually pronouncing many/ any of the lyrics and reverting to a basic hum after singing “DOO-Dah! DOO-Dah!”. His southern twang and distinctive drawl has been called upon by other companies on a number of occasions. Appearing in adverts for brands such as GEICO and KFC.
This notoriously loud and obnoxious character was a Looney tune staple for many. He’s appeared in many of their productions, starting from his first appearance in Walky Talky Hawky, until his most recent in the Baby Looney Tunes film of 2005. Foghorn for me is a great example of the way in which we perceive Chickens in our society. Seen often as kind of an animal to be mocked for their double identity, in that they are so very proud and full of bravado at times and when approaching each other; but then can act so seemingly cowardly and silly at other times.
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Season 4 Episode 3
No Chris Left Behindâ€™ Season 5 Episode 16
figure set. Sold by Mezco, an American toy company, these things are in the pride of place of many an office desk.
the giant chicken
Family guy known mainly and widely for its recurring jokes and inappropriate humour. One of its long standing recurring feuds is that between Ernie the giant chicken and Peter have had a long time beef. Their feud began with Ernie giving Peter an expired Coupon in an episode called “Da Boom” , but continues into other episodes because in brawls Peter always wins and leaves Ernie thinking he’s dead. But unknowingly he always gets up and comes back to fight another day. Their rivalry was further fuelled by Peter accidentally punching Ernie during “Meeting the Quagmires” episode. Ernie is a human like chicken pretty much any of the other chicken characters around. But he’s a little more chicken that other characters like Foghorn, with his wings that only turn into fist or proper human hands whilst he’s fighting. Also he acts more like a chicken in the fight scenes, through actions like pecking. He’s large full of pride and anger, almost as if he’s been primed like a fighting cock from back in the day. He almost bears resemblance in size and appearance to Foghorn Leghorn, (a chicken character spoken about before this) who shared Ernie’s roguish, prankster ways. He’s appeared in a few family guy episodes but isn’t a regular feature of the show.
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This running Family Guy gag is so popular,it's been made into an action
or emblem on the Kellogg’s Cornflakes pack, being in place of pride since 1958!
CORNELIUS The Cornflakes chicken. Ever wondered who that dashing green rooster on the front of your cereal box is? It’s Cornelius the Kellogg’s Cornflakes Mascot. Nowadays his fame isn’t quite as big. But you’ll still definitely recognise his face. He’s been the mascot ever since his introduction in 1958. But the illustration has changed with technology, becoming very vector based and include highlights, and change from the simple block colour drawings he originally appeared in. Designed by The Leo Burnett Advertising Agency, in 1957, specifically for Cornflakes Boxes, Cornelius has become a huge success. Kellogg’s had a few adverts with Cornelius being animated and talking. In the ads were he spoke he was voiced by either Andy Devine or Dallas McKennon, both voice actors. He would take adventures with various child characters and they would catch themselves in situations where they needed eat to have a bowl of Cornflakes to help them out. “Wake up, up ,up to Kellogg’s Cornflakes!”. After a while Cornelius stopped talking and began to just crow in the adverts, which often portrayed him being unable to crow first thing in the morning (as roosters do) without his Cornflakes; paralleling the message that you need a bowl of Cornflakes to start you off right in the morning.
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Good old Corny has lasted the longest out of any mascot
CORNY BITS & BOBS
COW AND CHICKEN This scrawny rooster plays the older brother in the duo “Cow and Chicken”. This cartoon prevalent in the 1990’s was a hit due to the contrast in personality between, Chicken who was rather smug and self confident, opposed with his sister Cow who’s younger and less confident and often needs her older brother to have her back. Chicken is majorly egotistical but occasionally it works out for everyone. His voice is performed by Charlie Adler. Chicken being the secondary character to Cow hasn’t appeared in every single episode, as Cow is the only character in the program to have actually made an appearance in every one. The cartoon series was very first aired with a pilot showing 1995. However the series wasn’t fully established and on air until mid 1997. It ran 4 series and was only produced for 2 years until mid 1999, but was then kept as a rerun on Cartoon Network until 2006. It’s hailed for being one of the classic Cartoon Network cartoons of the 1990s, which was probably to do with its ability to relate to children humorously as well as to an adult audience.
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Also it was memorable for its unusual format, it was a short cartoon and ran for 7minutes roughly but was usually played back to back with a spin off “I am Weasel” played after this before the end credits were rolled. The character of “Chicken” is portrayed as egotistical and this sometimes works out to his advantage, but sometimes is his downfall. I think our perception of chicken in this sense is largely similar to other portrayals of chicken as a proud but kinda stupid creature.
SUPER CHICKEN Super Chicken was an animated short, which aired as part of George of the Jungle. The story line followed the adventures of a character called Super Chicken, without stating the absolute obvious. Super Chicken was a front for who was really Henry Cabot Henhouse III, (a parody of the real life figure Henry Cabot Lodge Jr.) and had a sidekick called Fred (a lion) who pretended to be his servant. One of the recurring jokes throughout the program is the fact that when Henry always took his “Super Sauce” to change in Super Chicken; but the sauce was never had the same effect on him. One time Fred added too much starch to the Super Sauce and he had to eat it with a spoon. And straight after he had drank it he’d stop and loudly cluck or make some chicken related noise. Similarly to the character to Chicken Little, Super Chicken is portrayed as a heroic character, but they definitely throw in a few silly blunders in there to bring back the normal stupid chicken reference.
So, we finally find ourselves speaking about a Hen, not so male dominated as you were probably thinking reading about all of these roosters. Clara Cluck was the well styled lady of the barn, as she appeared in Cartoon’s such as Orphans’ Benefit and Mickey’s Grand Opera. Performances from this early I’m sure make her one of the earliest chicken characters to grace our television or cinema screens. Clara is one of the original farmyard gang of the Disney productions from the early 20th century. She plays a loud and funny character, who’s an opera diva. She was voiced by Florence Gill.
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e c n a D n e k The Chic Everyone knows about the chicken dance, even if you’ve never had the pleasure of performing it. It’s one of those cringey things people break out when they just can't get any lower! When you can feel the hole in the floor swallowing you up, just break it out and be assured that you’ll get a laugh out of your cringeball persona. The Chicken Dance, actually comes from a song of the same name (inventively) which was composed by Werner Thomas, an accordion player. The Swiss musician penned the song in the 1950’s and since it’s become a huge trend. Well, if you can call dancing like a chicken a trendy move… The chicken dance is a running gag in american T.V. series Arrested Development. One of the main characters Michael (Played by Jason Bateman) is taunted by his whole family for being cowardly. Worst of all his family choose the most inappropriate times to pull out the chicken dance. Whilst their at his work office, in another country and in front of strangers and worst of all together at home in front of each other, which ends uop in them all doing their own version of the chicken dance and Michael asking them “Have anyone in this family ever even seen a chicken?!”
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The dance, however, is now an official contemporary American folk dance. The song was first popularised by a dutch band “De Electonica’s” and then in Britain in 1981, by Henry Hadaway, who got in to the charts with the song and managed to sell over 1.6 Million copies in the just the UK. But getting back to the dance and why you wouldn’t want to pull it out on a first date. Have a look at the moves!
s p e t S e c n a D The Usually requires a group of people, who can pair up!
1. Shape a chicken beak with your hands. Open and close them
4 times. 2. Make chicken wings with your arms. Flap your wings 4 times. 3. Make a chicken’s tail feathers with your arms and hands. Wiggle down 4. Clap 4 times, while rising to your feet. 5. Turn to your partner and “Cuck Coo” like a chicken every time you clap. 6. Repeat 4 times 7. At the bridge, hold your arms straight, and pretend to be an aeroplane. Spin round the room in “flight” until the bridge ends. 8. At the end of the song, take a bath in barbeque sauce, while pretending to be a cooking chicken.
“Has anyone in this family ever even seen a chicken?” Part of the “Dancing Plague of 1518” project by Niege Borges
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Chicken Suits The chicken suit, I’ve never personally donned one but they are pretty funny. Seeing grown men walking around in a big yellow costume with their face poking out between beaks is a right sight. And aren’t they always just the clumsiest outfits ever? They’re just asking for you to bang into something really. They go for anywhere between £20 and £100, for those of you looking for the extra special nest for your feathers. Being described as finger lickin’ there’s no one who can resist a laugh from the bright yellow costume. And manufacturers clearly align the outfits with the type of people they’re marketing at; one advert I’ve come across carefully reminds you that. “There is no mouth hole you will need to remove the mask to consume food or liquid” Thanks for the heads up, but how am I gunna be believable if I can’t eat or drink through my beak! Unlike other animal suits they can only be for novelty purposes, which feeds into the humour, ‘cos when you see someone in Chicken suit, you know it’s a joke but it’s still funny. Occasionally they’re used less for humour and more for good cheer, such as in the case of the San Diego Chicken, who’s more of a mascot, portrayed by Ted Giannoulas.
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THE GAME OF
Chicken is a “game” which was brought to popularity in the 1950s, especially in America. The so–called game is played in cars, often which are stolen and therefore bear kinda little or no responsibility to the idiot which chooses to take part in this game. Two racers start driving towards each other from the opposite ends of a single lane bridge. The aim is to be the most “brave” and keep driving and hopefully your relentlessness will scare your opponent into swerving out of the way of your car; leaving them the “Chicken” and you the winner. If I'm honest though I think the one that swerves should be crowned the winner for using a least three brain cells. But this is the premise of the macho 1950's american man. The Phrase is also used to describe a similar situation but with out the physical actions of getting in a car and driving towards another guy at 100 mph. In this sense it is use d to describe a situation where two people are in a conflict where neither of them have anything to gain from the situation, but won't back down purely because of pride. We probably participate in more games of metaphorical chicken more than we'd even care to own up to.
incident. He was involved in some reckless driving on the way to a film set with some friends. A tragic death that comes way to close to home after a role like this.
But no–one likes to be labelled “Chicken”, because although these odd looking birds do possess admireable attributes, we see them as passive and cowardly. This game was first portrayed in mass media, in “Rebel Without a Cause” (1955), a film which focused on the lives of middle class teenagers. Starring James Dean as a new kid in town, who winds up making enemies of a local gang, and finds himself playing Chicken with the leader of the gang for a girl.
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Before the movie was released Dean died in a motoring
E L T T I L N E CHICK Chicken Little is an animated film, based around the main character by the same name. Chicken Little is also another name for the story of Henny Penny, but this film doesn’t follow exactly the same story line. The film tells of a chicken that has a bad reputation with the people of his town, but tries to rescue everyone once an alien invasion starts. He is seen a heroic way in this film, which is unusual for chicken characters within pop culture. Normally regarded as cowardly and scared. However this is only after a long time of being ridiculed by the people in his town who thought he was crazy when he declared that a piece of the sky was falling. Voiced by Zach Braff, (also known for being the main character in comedy series “Scrubs”) Chicken Little takes on a modern approach to the story of Henny Penny (which is documented earlier) but references the old story in strap lines for the film, like “This time the sky really is falling”. This version of the Henny Penny story, works with the moral of being courageous and not chickening out of things.
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CHICKEN RUN Chicken Run has got to be the most famous chicken film â€” right? Animated by Nick Park and Directed by Peter Lord. The film released in 2000, follows a farm gang of chickens who try to escape being turned in to Sunday roasts and chicken pies. Starring Mel Gibson and Julie Sawalha, the film is loved by not only families but by the masses.
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BACK TO THE FUTURE 2 Classic film starring Michael J. Fox in one of his earlier roles; Back to The Future is a series of films about a young man who manages to time travel. But through his time travelling and meddling with the past, he makes changes that have a pretty big effect on his life in the future. In this second instalment of the film, Marty McFly (Michael J. Fox) has to go back to 1955 in an attempt to sort out his future, but ends up messing things up a lot worse than he expected. Whilst arguing with Griff Tannen (Thomas F. Wilson), Tannen asks McFly if heâ€™s too chicken to fight him. This is one of the recurring lines in the film, â€˜Cos no one wants to be chicken, most of all not Marty McFly!
Michael J. Fox as Marty McFly in Back to the Future 2 (1985).
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Hand drawn type missing
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DRAGONBAL L EVOLUTION DragonBall Evolution (2009) is the film which ruined one of the best cartoons of the late 90’s and early 2000’s. The film which stars Justin Chatwin as Goku (the main character from the cartoon program “DragonBall Z”) who dreams of being an ultimate combater. He lives and trains with his grandfather Gohan, who in one shot of the film cooks him Chicken Feet and Squab to try and help him with a healthy diet which will help him be more athletic. Goku isn’t too impressed with them just like most westerns and makes a swift exit. Gohan takes pleasure in sucking the meat off of the Chicken Feet and you can’t help but gag as you see his bowl full of them as if they were a tasty treat. Also with in this film, a cooked chicken is beheaded. A loud bang is heard from the kitchen and then there’s a shot of the head detached. Gruesome stuff for a PG rated film.
Glossary OF ALTERNATIVE CHICKEN DEFINITIONS
(noun) 1 [mid-late 19C] (US) a man. 2 Although chick has become slang only in the 20C, it has been used as a general term of affection since 16C.
(noun) [1920s+] 1 a young woman. 2 [1940s+] a male prostitute. [ext of male meaning for chick]
(adj) [1960s+] (orig. US) of interest to girls or women e.g. a chick movie
(noun)[17C] a pint pot.
(noun) 1 [early 17C+] a timid creature, a coward; thus chicken-hearted, cowardly. 2 [late 19C+] a weak or naive person. 3 [1950s+] (orig. US teen) a contest of nerve in which two cards drive either at each other, the loser being the driver who is seen to turn aside first, or towards an obstacle, cliff edge etc; thus any form of foolish dare-devilry (e.g. play chicken verb). 4 [1960s+] (US Black) a sheepish, foolish grin.
(noun) 1 [late 17C+] used as a direct address to a child or young woman. 2 [midlate 19C] a young man, often as a direct address.
(noun) 1 [late 18C+] a young woman, esp [late 18C â€“ mid 19C] a prostitute. 2 [mid 19C+] (US) young women considered collectively; thus sexual intercourse with one. 3 [1960s+] (US Black) un attractive old woman. 4[1960s+] (US Black) an aggressive woman.
(noun) [mid 19C] 1 anything young, small or insignificant. 2 [1940s+] (gay) an underage boy, or such boys considered collectively 3 [1940s+] a young man used as a lure or blackmail 4 [1960s+] a child who is used for paedophilic sexual exploitation.
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(adj) [1910s+] (orig. US) petty, insignificant
(adj) [1940s+] cowardly
chicken! chickenbone special chickenbrain
(excl) [1950s+] (Orig. US) a derisive cry, coward! (noun) [1950s] (US Black) anything second-rate, inferior, cheap and unattractive. (noun) [1920s) (US) a fool.
(phr) [1960s] (US Black) nothing to matter, forget it; used in response to the query whatsâ€™ up?
(noun) [20C] (US) 1 a police car or patrol wagon 2 an outside lavatory
(noun) [1940s](US Black) an attractive young woman
(noun) [mid 19C+] 1 small change 2 derisorily small amounts of money or anything else.
(noun) [1930s] (US) a contest of nerves (e.g chicken out)
(noun) [1950s+] (US) a general derogatory term, oftem intensified by extensions e.g. bald-headed chicken-fucker (noun) (Orig. US) 1 [1960s+] an older male homosexual with a preference for young boys 2 [1980s] an older man who prefers teenage girls for sex. (noun) [1960s+] (US Black) 1 an aggressive, unpleasant woman 2 a stupid,
chickenhead cont. chickenhead
chickenhearted chicken inspector chicken out chicken-perch chicken powder
immature girl 3 a fellatrix 4 a promiscuous woman. (noun) [1990s] (US Teen) one who talks a lot. [the chicken’s bobbing head and constant squawking]. (adj) [late 18C+] cowardly noun) [1920s+] (US) a womanizer, a lady-killer verb)[1930s+] (Orig. US) to be scared, to be too frightened to ac, to back out. (noun)[late 19C+] a church (rhyming slang) (noun) [1980s+] (drugs) amphetamine (it makes the user ‘run around like a headless chicken’ or it makes the user brave, i.e. no longer ‘chicken’) (noun) [1960s+] (US gay) the urge to have sex with underage boys.
(noun) [1980s+] (US gay) an older male homosexual who prefers sex with teenage boys.
(noun) [1960s+] a brothel (the original mid 19C Chicken Ranch was at Gilbert, Texas. Local farmers paid for their pleasures with ‘chickens’.
(noun) [1950s+] a teenage virility ritual involving the driving of two cars at high speed towards each other, or towards a dangerous obstacle; the first one to turn aside or brake is ‘chicken’
(noun) 1 [1970s+] (S.Africa) the flight from South Africa of white people, fearing
109 Ruling The Roost
for their future in a non-apartheid world. 2[1990s] the attempt by Conservative MPs in marginal seats to find safer ones, in the knowledge that gorvermental unpopularity would condemn them to defeat in the UK General Election. chickenrustler
(noun) [1960s+] (US gay) a male homosexual who has been placed in chage of underage boys, e.g. scoutmaster or choirmaster.
(noun) [1940s-50s] (US Black) a very small amount of money (the small impression it makes on oneâ€™s expsenses.)
chickenshit chickenshits, the chicken thief chicken wings chickie
(noun) [1940s+] (orig. US) 1 a coward 2 a contemptible, disgusting person. (noun) [1950s] diarrhoea. (noun) [Mid-late 19C; 1940s] (Aus/US) a petty thief. (noun) [1990s] the labia. (noun) [1940s+] (orig. Aus) a young woman.
Sources Keeping a few hens in your garden – Francine Raymond,Kitchen Gard, 1998 Living with chickens: everything you need to know about keeping chickens – Jay Rossier, David & Charles, 2005 The chicken chronicles – Alice Walker,Littlehampton Book Services Ltd, 2011 Chicken manual: The complete step-by-step guide to keeping chickens – Laurence Beeken, Haynes Publishing, 2010 Cassell's Dictionary of Slang - Jonathon Green, Weidenfeld & Nicholson, 2000 Hanna-Barbera cartoons – Michael Mallory, Virgin, 1999 Tex Avery king of cartoons – Joe Adamson, Popular Library,1975 Of mice and magic : a history of American animated cartoons – Leonard Maltin,Penguin Books,1987 http://archive.org – Internet Archive http://catalog.nypl.org/ – New York Public Library Catalogue http://www.bpl.org/catalogs/ – Boston Public Library Catalogue http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/ – BBC News