Courtesy SancheznThat’s right, Buzzketeers, you heard it here first: Scotland has declared war.
Muskets are being cleaned, shakos brushed, wigs powdered, kilts pleated…
And who or what is this war on? England? No, Braveheart settled that one with an academy award. Personal hygiene? I’m afraid that war was lost centuries ago. Drugs? Maybe, but Trainspotting was so much fun.
So what’s left?
Birds, y’all, birds. Scotland has finally declared war on the birds. Actual birds. I don’t mean, like, a cockney version of national misogyny. Seagulls, in fact, are the targets here.
Why? Why ask why, I say. Have you ever seen or heard a seagull and not wanted to destroy it and all of its ilk? That, by the way, is a rhetorical question.
Scotland has drafted a more formal—though only just—list of complaints against the bird nation: they thrive on litter, and their aggressive behavior towards humans and other animals is increasing. They are, in short, “a menace.”
The Environmental Minister even whipped out the story of a paper delivery boy (called a Scottish Flat-hat Lad, I believe), who has had to abandon his duties for fear of bird attack. Wars have been started over less.
The initial campaign will kick off in the southwestern town of Dumfries, Scotland, during the gulls breeding season. The Scots are clearly taking seriously the old saying “Hit ‘em where it hurts” (the genitals). Anti-gull task forces are being formed to destroy nests and drive the birds off. It’s going to be like a Scottish Starship Troopers.
There may be another solution here—this article points out that the gull population of Britain began rising sharply and steadily after the introduction of the Clean Air Act in 1956. It isn’t that gulls thrive in clean air (they probably hate it, rats that they are), but that the act prohibited the burning of garbage by local landfill owners, giving the horrible birds all the delicious trash they could ever hope to eat.
So Scotland needs to start firing up those landfills! Sure, it’s dirty, but we need to consider the perils of off-balancing animal populations. Just look at zebra mussels and, like… zebras. Get out your bagpipes and claymores! Fill the sky with the greasy black smoke of victory!