Our State Bird Is An Asshole

An indictment of the mockingbird

Words and illustration: Jeremy Brasher

     Every spring and summer it happens, I'm out walking my dog around the block just enjoying the crappy sticky hot miserably awful weather, and a flash of grey and black swoops out of the sun and smacks my dog on the back. My dog is of course, completely freaked out. Even more so as the blur wheels around in the air and comes back for more. My dog then seems to have a brief internal struggle, weighing whether to take off as advised by his instincts, or stick by me like I taught him. Splitting the difference, he decides to run off about ten feet and then run back to me, again and again, until I intercede with my bipedal advantage in an as of yet futile attempt to exact revenge on this avian tormentor by swinging at the winged terror a la King Kong and the biplanes.
     I have to say, in all honesty, I will punch a mockingbird in the face if I get a chance.
     I hate those things. Say what you will about them being beneficial by eating the weight of a Volkswagen in bugs everyday or whatever, the fact remains, our state bird is, quite frankly, an asshole. Yeah, you might say, “It's just defending its nesting territory.” But check this, if the mockingbird was a little more observant, it would know that I don't care about its nest. Just because someone walks in front of my house I don't try and beat the crap out of them. Jeez.
     Mockingbirds shouldn't feel that threatened either, they have almost no predators. Cats and hawks are about the only ones, and most hawks simply will not mess with mockingbirds. In fact, when a hawk starts going after a mockingbird, the mockingbird will sometimes turn around and fly straight at the hawk in some suicidal game of chicken. Most hawks just can't handle this unlikely reversal and will bail on the whole attempt. The only hawk that can really screw up a mockingbird's day is the Cooper Hawk, which is a fast flier and can carry off a mockingbird without it ever knowing what hit it. But if the hawk happens to miss on the approach, a mockingbird will straight up flip out and go after the hawk, all the while calling other mockingbirds, not for assistance in killing the hawk (which it can't do), but to help it taunt the hawk until it gets creeped out enough to just want to get the hell away from them.
     Sometimes snakes try to take out the spawn of the hateful mockingbird by invading their nests to eat their eggs. If the snake gets discovered creeping around, mockingbirds will not only attack it, they will call all the other mockingbirds in the area to help them beat the hell out of the snake. I can understand that. I mean, okay, you gotta defend the nest when it's being invaded. Gotta get away from predators. Seems pretty reasonable.
     But don't let those logical behaviors confuse you. Mockingbirds are paranoid, thugged-out, psychopaths. For instance, a lot of birds migrate, fly down to Florida or Cabo or wherever. Not mockingbirds. A mockingbird will stick around and ride out the winter, which in itself is not really that strange. Things get weird, however, when the other birds come back from vacation. What do the mockingbirds do? They jump them. Yes, for no apparent reason whatsoever, mockingbirds beat up the other birds when they come back to town.
     Another claim to fame for the mockingbird is its beautiful singing. Along with the nightingale, it holds the title for most shredding vocal chops of the bird kingdom. For years most birdcalls were assumed to be mating oriented, which is a sort of sweet idea—“Aww, the bird is singing for it's true love.” That sentimental idea also now appears to be totally wrong. Recent studies that I heard one day on the radio and can give no factual verification of their existence suggest that most birdcalls are actually aggressive threats to other birds to stay the hell away. This evidence in a way implies that the mockingbird, with it's elaborate calls, is a champion shit-talker, and may in fact talk the most outrageous provocative trash ever as far as birds go. I mean it's called a mockingbird for a reason, you know.
     Also, it's true mockingbirds often mate for life. This is no doubt a public relations move on their part to portray themselves as family oriented to appeal to the right. I suspect this charade is just a transparent Machiavellian ploy for some kind of coup or power grab later.
     Lastly, the mockingbird gets around. Not only is it our state bird, it's also the state bird of Texas, Louisiana, and Mississippi. It's overexposed, overblown and generally played out as far as birds go. Mockingbirds are the Paris Hiltons of the avian kingdom, they got too much attention for not doing very much and now no one even cares. I say we get another bird, maybe that ivory-billed one. That bird has enough of a hard time proving it even exists to sit around harassing people all day. Or maybe an owl of some kind; owls are cool.
     Owls are too busy being wise and enigmatic to beat up dogs. I bet if an owl wanted to it could totally carry a dog off. But owls have restraint. The mockingbird could take some lessons from owls.
     As spring is upon us at last, I'm seeing them. They're out there. In the parking lot at my work right now they're out there, beating the crap out of each other, talking their mess, and generally being nuisances. Mark my words, mockingbird, and heed them well, your malignancy won't last forever. One day your reign will end, and my dog and I will be triumphant! Mark my words!

Jeremy Brasher is the lead singer of The Moving Front and the captain of the Zombies, the only team in the history of the Little Rock Kickball Association to be covered by The Economist. Holler at him at jrombrasher@yahoo.com.