Comments on: Wake Me Up When September Ends

by: alvarete

Tue, 11 Oct 2005 15:24:33 +0000

This is a pretty awesome chains of comments, my fave thus far. The mental image of people being randomly attacked by birds makes me smile…

by: Johann

Tue, 11 Oct 2005 15:19:06 +0000

Pretty good story, i´m not sure i´ll be able to look at birds the same way.
Just yesterday i was at a farm and the soil had been plowed just a few hours prior. I counted 2 gray eagles, and 21 small brown hawks. I wonder had i gotten out of the car would they have attacked me in a cordinated efford and left my white bones laying there. I´m never getting out of the car in a farm again.

by: alvarete

Sat, 08 Oct 2005 13:09:06 +0000

Come on, we all know the story

FADE IN

A RAINY STRETCH OF HIGHWAY, NIGHT

A lone truck busts through the dark. We can see it’s a chemical truck, large yellow RADIOACTIVE WASTE signs cover its sides. We catch up to the truck’s window, and see BOB, the truck’s driver, speaking on the radio.

BOB
Dispatch, I took the left turn off 65, but I don’t think I’m on the right track. I can’t see any signs that point to Texas. Can you help? Over.

The radio clicks and sputters static. No answer comes from the other side.

BOB, to the radio
Dispatch, can you hear me? Over.

Still no answer. Bob, annoyed, tosses the radio mic into the empty passenger set, and mutters to himself.

BOB
Just my fucking luck…

We change point of views to a small creature sitting in a tree. When the truck is about to pass by he chirps evilly, then launches himself into a hover. We can see that he’s heading straight for the drivers window. Bob doesn’t notice the bird until it’s too late.

BOB
What the fuck?!

The bird flies into the cabin and starts pecking at BOB’S head and ears. BOB tries to shoo it away, first with one hand, but as the pecking intensifies, we can see little droplets of blood appear on his forehead. He starts panicking, and his hands abandon the steering wheel. The truck starts to swerve, and BOB overcorrects the steering wheel, which causes the truck to leave the road and buckle sideways. The truck slides for a couple hundred meters, then crashes noisily against a tree.

We slowly pan to…

OUTSIDE THE DRIVER’S CABIN, BY THE WINDOW

We can see Bob’s bloody hand hanging outside the truck. The shot lingers so we can see the damage the bird has caused: bits and pieces of his scalp are missing, and underneath his bloody skull shows through. The camera then starts to drift to the back of the truck, where we can see green radioactive slime starting to pour from underneath the truck’s wreck. The shot pans out, and we can see we’re right outside a farm. The sign reads:

PETE AND JO’S BIRD FARM

We pan closer to the sign, and we can see the attacking bird. Something isn’t quite right about it: its eyes are bloodshot, and it moves with unnatural stiffness. It throws back its head and chirps with bloodless delight, then flies away.

by: Schiz

Sat, 08 Oct 2005 04:48:40 +0000

A whacky spirit in form of a bird? Birds with Spielbergesque fantasies? Sorry, but those theories are just fucking ridiculous. That little devil was obviously part of a genetically modified race of birds. It must be some sort of bio terrorist attack operation, started by some Jewish scientists who have been operating undercover in pet labs for many years. These experimental animals are unique among their species in their impressive ability to annoy the shit out of people. They’ve been genetically programmed to do this. The goal is to use this fluffy army to psychologically destroy people with pet peeves.

by: nashira

Fri, 07 Oct 2005 22:01:57 +0000

That, or maybe the bird heard about the flu and thinks he’s in a Spielberg movie, so he flew away from asian labs to warn everyone. If you’d looked closer, maybe you could’ve seen his sidekick: a little cricket with a yellow berret that’s also the morse code translator. …—…

by: alvarete

Fri, 07 Oct 2005 21:24:24 +0000

A friend once shat on a friend’s head while we were walking down the park. I would’ve given my left nut for a camera.

by: Blind Willie

Fri, 07 Oct 2005 15:08:47 +0000

Forget about devious, I meant mischievous.

by: Blind Willie

Fri, 07 Oct 2005 15:06:53 +0000

It is odd though that with all the misfortunes you’ve had with birds, you haven’t been phisically attacked by one of those devious fuckers. Me, I don’t trust birds. I don’t hate them or even dislike them. It’s like that same feeling of discomfort some people have with cats. I’ve been attacked by birds twice in my time, and I tell you this: being peckered in the head by an angry black bird is a nasty experience. What I recollect the most were the sounds of the bird. Forget about “chirping”, we’re talking about an ancient cry from hell, or another plane of existance. This winged devils are experts in the art of war. They’ll fly from the back and without warning will dive and strike in the middle of your head repeatedly, for about five seconds and then dissapear in the same misterious way they appeared. Picture yourself with a moronic what-the-fuck-did-just-happened look in your face, trying to recover your cool, and straightening your hair. Look around all you want, the little prick is already hiding between branches, what do you do? You better run, boy. That’s a lesson for all of you, if you’re not ouf of their territory ASAP, you’ll get the same treatment all over gain. This time though, the sound of its battle cry will haunt you forever.

My take on the bird in your window: It’s the same bird you saw in Ecuador, so watch your ass, ’cause it’s deffinetely a spirit trying to possess your soul. Ancient rites will be required for this one.