What you see above is a fried chicken wing I purchased from Popeye’s Famous Chicken and Biscuits in Long Island City, NY.  Attached to said wing you will see not one but two feathers.  These bad boys survived the de-feathering process (which consists by the way, of the carcasses being strapped to a conveyor line and run through a machine of rubber “fingers” designed to beat off feathers. The limp bodies are moved through a sequence of machines, each optimized for removing different sets of feathers. At this point the carcasses are usually singed by passing through a flame that burns off any remaining feathers… giggle… I said, ““beat off” feathers.”), dissection of the flesh, shipping, freezing, and flash frying.

The photos were taken because of my abject disgust at their existence.

As my friend Richard pointed out by humorously personifying the feathers… they watched as their friends were ripped from their host, they watched the removal of the limb they call home, and just when they thought it couldn’t get any worse, they were covered in batter and fried.

I thought, I’m going to complain, this is repugnant… then I realized… what do I have to complain about?

Dear Popeye’s,

I was saddened to open my box of chicken only to be reminded that the thing I was eating used to be a living breathing bird.  In the future I hope that you do not give me an aide-memoire of my own foods mortality.  Know that in the coming months I will only be eating chicken strips from your establishment so I can continue to maintain the illusion that chicken comes from some kind of food tree you keep in a warehouse.

Thank you,

Reversible Panda

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