This american life, a chicken expert witness.

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Charon

Charon

In the Brooder
8 Years
Dec 10, 2011
71
0
39
Drummond, OK
http://www.thisamericanlife.org/radio-archives/episode/452/poultry-slam-2011 "Scharlette Holdman's story continues, in which she and the rest of a legal defense team try to save a man on death row by finding a star witness—a chicken with a specific skill. "
452_lg.jpg
 
From the transcript:

Scharlette Holdman:
"San Quentin sent in a prison psychiatrist to determine-- was he competent to be executed? Did he know he was going to be executed? And did he know why he was going to be executed? So the psychiatrist goes and interviews Harry. And then this psychiatrist testified in court that not only was Harry aware that he was going to be executed, she was so certain of this because she had played Tic-tac-toe with him and Harry had beat her."...

...Ira Glass:
"Scharlette thought-- and this is not a joke. It's not an exaggeration. She thought that a chicken like that could save this man's life. Jurors, after all, tend to believe the state and its witnesses. And a chicken like that could totally undermine the psychiatrist's testimony by proving that playing Tic-tac-toe doesn't mean that you understand things like why you're being executed."

Scharlette Holdman:
"I just knew a chicken would work. It's a sad state. But I think a chicken has more credibility than the defense team did. And I think it would have brought the jury over to seeing us as people rather than as these obstructionists who were interfering with an execution.

And who can doubt a chicken? You can't. Chickens aren't going to lie. Chickens have integrity.

I had this image of the psychiatrist being on the stand. And I would quietly enter through the wood doors as they opened with this beautiful leghorn under my arm, right, and a comb at a rakish angle. And as I walked into the courtroom, not saying a word, and quietly took a seat on the front row, the psychiatrist-- who we knew, because we'd investigated her background-- was from New York City, would see a person with a chicken and think, why is that-- oh my god, no. And that psychiatrist would slowly realize that she was going to have to play Tic-tac-toe with a chicken."

http://www.thisamericanlife.org/radio-archives/episode/452/transcript

The Psychiatrist was from New York and probably knew all about the Chinese Arcade and the resident chicken. Too bad she didn't get to be confronted by the `expert'. Many other well heeled, well educated and otherwise cultured/coiffed denizens of American Society were apparently well aware of the odds (if not of the precise format of the `trial'). As recounted by Calvin Trillin (best known for his writing for The New Yorker mag), he'd take his guests on walks, following lunch, and introduce them to the `XO breed'...


Quote
And, the interesting thing to me about it is, every single person I’'ve taken down there says the same thing. Looks over the situation - remember, it only costs fifty cents to play and if you win you get a large bag of fortune cookies worth thirty-five to forty cents. But the chicken is very good at tic-tac-toe. And, the people look at it and then they always say the same thing `the chicken gets to go first'.’ I say, `it'’s a chicken, you’'re a human being surely there should be some advantage in that'’. And then not all of them, but a lot of them say `but the chicken plays every day'’…”
Click to expand...

Calvin Trillin on the Charlie Rose Show 11/2/11

Some history of the Chinese Arcade and Tic-Tac-Toe chickens: http://vanishingnewyork.blogspot.com/2011/02/chinatown-fair.html​
 
Last edited:
This absolutely made my day. Hysterical!

My Welsumers are smarter by far than my Buff Orps or my Aussies, and I have two black sexlinks who are not only very peronable, but are also very smart. The SLs fiogured out right away ( I got them as adults) that when I was turning over boards, rocks etc. that worms and bugs were in the offing, and followed me around like dogs. The Wellies come when called, and once when I came home after dark and found the gate to their run and coop had blown shut, cuttin off thier access to the coop, I searched far and wide in the back yard to find them. I finaly figured out that they would be in the best possible hiding places, and some were pretty ingenious -- the best being the axle on the undercarriage of a wheelbarrow. They gave a wee chirp when I picked them up and tucked them under my arm, and a big sigh of relief when I deposited them into their bedroom. I have seldom felt so ashamed and repentant. But they forgave me. And I do think they knew it was my lapse, but that they have no concept of grudgeg. But perhaos I am anthropomorhizing. I adore them, in any case, and they will live out their lives in my care. But I ca,n and have, killed and eaten other chickens that I did not like as much, or who were dumber or meaner. I can't imagine killing anything as intelligent as a pig. I would have to be starving,
 

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