Helger's Turkey Farm

This is a bad week for turkeys. Every day I pass by Helger's Turkey Farm and glance off the the raised cages where they spend their entire lives enclosed behind chicken wire, with lights on 24/7. All of these turkeys are white. I know. White turkeys. Big joke. Next week most of these birds will be brown and stuffed with all manner of chestnuts and bread crumbs and onions and sage and on and on and on. And they will be a the epicenter of so many American families. How enobling, dying for one's country like they do. I know there has been a push to make the wild turkey the national bird in lieu of the apparently squalid and endangered bald-headed eagle, but that's beside the point. And Martha Stewart will be behind bars for this year's Thanksgiving meal. As to whether it is a "good thing" in her words, or not is anybody's guess. As for me, I think it is a waste of federal resources. So all these white turkeys that I have passed since the day last summer when they presumably arrived in their gulag to be raised, fattened and slaughtered, I bid you farewell. Yours what not to reason why. Yours, for that matter, was never to fly.