Thought experiments

They know where we think we are going. Every parrot does.

Thought experiments

Felix ran his 2020 campaign on, "He knows where you think you are going." We found this reverberated throughout the country, striking nerve endings, as truth. Parrot truth. Which isn't human truth. Because human's truth isn't truth, it's opinion filtered through personal experiences leaving the equation unsolvable by another human. We read each other's algebra and smile. We nod. We acknowledge each other's confused. Grateful that we aren't them. Herders can't flock. And flockers are too smart to consider herding.

Run it by the bird first. Run a simple thought experiment. What would a parrot think about what you are thinking about? And if it fails the test of parrot truth, adjust. Adjust because measuring human ideas against a sincere flocking thinker will keep you inside the rails. Is your idea honest? Does it do no harm? Does it consider others in your flock? Does it provide a benefit?

"Things to Run by the Parrot." A notebook I made for myself. I use my copies to write ideas. To write Detective Felix stories. To run every word I write by the parrot.

Felix has decided he likes being referred to as "The Birdie."

"See the Birdie?"

"Yes, Felix I see you!"

"See the Birdie?"

"Felix! You are awesome how can I miss you?"

"See. The. Birdie??"

I realize I've missed a lesson identical to the lesson I missed the first three months he lived with us. Naming conventions. Parrots speak in the third person. It saves time.


"I SEE the birdie, Felix! Hello Birdie. Birdie, do you want some tea?"

*lip smacking sounds*

I serve warm turmeric tea, holding his yellow cup at the correct height and distance from his beak. This cup is the one yellow thingy he accepts. Felix chews his tea.

He fills the bottom beak like a cup. Chews. The tea over flows creating a large drop dangling under his bottom beak. He then dips his dead a bit forward. The drop's edge crosses the end of his open beak, he tips his head backup. The drop hanging is now smaller leaving behind a chewable amount in his mouth. I wait for him to work through the drop.

"How's the tea, birdie?"

He whistles one low, slow, soft note. Elongated as a human would say, MMmmmm. He creates another drop to drip. His eyes turn almond shape. A happy birdie.

"See the birdie?"

Yes, Felix. I see and understand the birdie, not as quickly as you would like at times.

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