Why did the Chicken Cross the Road?

Heisenberg:

Because the chicken is moving very fast, you can either observe the chicken or you can measure the chicken, but you cannot do both.

Xeno:

The chicken can never reach the other side because there are an infinitessimal number of segments between him and the other side.

Einstein:

It depends on the chicken's frame of reference as to whether the chicken crossed the road or the road crossed the chicken.

Nietzche:

If the chicken gazes too long across the road, the road will also gaze into the chicken.

Newton:

Chickens at rest tend to stay at rest. Chickens in motion tend to cross the road.

Timothy Leary:

Because it was the only trip the establishment would let it take.

Anonymous:

To show the armadillo it could be done.

Plato:

The ideal chicken must ideally cross the ideal road. Therefore, imperfect chickens in this world cross imperfect roads, imperfectly.

Karl Marx:

She was driven by the lash of economic necessity.

Aristotle:

It is the essense of chickens to cross the road.

Lao Tse:

Those who cluck do not know.

Those who know do not cluck.

Capt. Jean Luc Picard:

To see what's out there.

Col. Oliver North:

It was a national security matter.

Basil Fawlty:

Oh, never mind that chicken. She's from Barcelona.

Sir Edmund Hilary:

Because it's there.

The Kingston Trio:

The lions still roam the barranca

And a hen there is always alone.

Sigmund Freud:

The telephone pole suggested a phallic symbol and like all female creatures she wanted to be dominated.

Jacques Derrida:

The question admits of limitless answers, since there is no one logocentric strategy of discourse that takes primacy over all others.

Oscar Wilde:

This chicken problem has many depths, but all of them are equally shallow.

William Blake:

Little chicken, who set thee free

To wander here on Highway Three?

"Oh, sir, your question's very odd;

He is called the Lamb of God."

Douglas Adams:

Forty-two.

Vito Corleone:

We made her an offer she couldn't refuse.

Sappho:

To kiss your skin, to lie with you in moonlight...

Jean Paul Sartre:

To impose a meaning upon her accidental existence.

T.S.Eliot:

To leave the place she knew for another place

And to stay there for a while

And then to move onward to a third place.

Buddha:

To ask this question denies your own chicken nature.

Charles Darwin:

It was the next step after coming down from the trees.

Thomas Jefferson:

All hens are endowed by Nature and Nature's God with the right to life, liberty and the pursuit of the other side.

Confucius:

When the emperor performs the rites with full reverence, and the court officers behave as true scholars and gentlemen, a hen may cross any road in the kingdom safely.

Ernest Hemingway:

To die. In the rain.

H.P. Lovecraft:

To escape the crawling horror lurking on this side of the road, a nameless and foetid monstrosity that cannot be conceived save in the dreams of madness.

Friederich Nietzsche:

There was no chicken, no road, no crossing. There was only an interpretation.

Sid Vicious:

Cause I had the effin' bird pinned to my right nipple when I started chasin' Nancy across the effin' road wif my effin' switchblade.

Darth Vader:

She was seduced by the dark side of the road.

Raymond Chandler:

She had beady inhuman eyes like strange black jewels and the kind of feathers a bird of paradise might envy. I knew that if they made her a free-range chicken she'd grab the first opportunity and never look back.

James Joyce:

Mrs. Hahn, Cock's wife, flapflopped from an ova eggspressed (one l'ouvre, end sot) and charged that lewd brigade into any tennis sun in this faunanimal whirled.

Robert Anton Wilson:

Carol Christmas never knew if she had actually seen a chicken calmly crossing the street in New York's worst traffic, or if it was another nasty joke by that malign dwarf, Chaney. But now she was seeing chickens at every corner, waiting for the light to change. She saw them most often after coming out of her class on post-modern literature.

Ronald Wilson Reagan:

I don't remember.

Weekly World News:

Nostradamus predicted chicken/Bigfoot horror!

Newt Gingrich:

The chicken choose to exercize individual initiative and not wait for a government-funded traffic light program.

William Faulkner:

Uncle Ike saw her first: just an ordinary chicken, he thought for a moment, a chicken picking here and pecking there, gradually working her way across the road toward the lawn; but then he felt the fingers tighten on his arm and looked up, astounded, to see him, the Colonel, eyes lit with a new fire, face aglow like a saint seeing a vision: and then it was destiny, a thing pre-ordained, a fatality, for the Colonel did not reveal even to him, Uncle Ike, the secret ingredients, not the names of the herbs and not even the number of them (some would say he used as many as twenty, and others insisted there was but Jone magic herb that created that special flavor) and so the secret of the crust remained, a hermetic mystery, an arcanum implacable and inpenetrable, locked in the private places of the Colonel's soul: and yet the vision was real, a true moment of Fate; for the franchises sold almost as fast as they could slaughter and gut the stock, and they spread across the country, across the civilized world, making the Colonel not just a millionaire but a billionaire, and Uncle Ike saw it all, knew it all, from the beginning to the day when the initials KFC were to be seen in every city, every town, every hamlet large enough to own two mules and an Assembly of God church: until now, standing in the franchise in Jefferson, Yoknapatawpha County, where Flem Snopes, the bank president, hawked and coughed and spat on the floor, then hoisted his britches, country style, and said to the waitress, "Make it extra crispy, please."

Hannibal Lecter, M.D.:

I ate her liver. With fava beans. And a brandied cranberry sauce.

Friar Broccoli:

The light was green. With green-ness is truth and reason.

Plato:

Because it is in the nature of chickens, strictly defined in asmuch as they are chickens, to cross roads.

Jacques Prevert:

I put the chicken on my head, and my military cap crossed the road...

Vergil:

Arms and the chicken I sing, who first from the side of the road

To the other side driven by fate, came at last to the foot

Of the "don't walk" sign...

Bill Gates:

To lead the other chickens across the Info Superhighway (NOT road) and into a world where there's a computer in every home. Its just where he wanted to go today.

Lao-tzu:

The chicken both crosses the road and not-crosses the road because that is the way of Tao.

The Great Gonzo:

Carmilla, come back!

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