⚠️ SATIRE DISCLAIMER (Standard Issue, Now With Feathers):
This is a fictional rant in the unmistakable voice of George Carlin, written as political satire with a rare touch of tenderness. No birds were harmed in the making of this monologue. Except maybe a few Republicans metaphorically.
George Says: “IN A WORLD FULL OF ASSHOLES, LEAVE IT TO A BALD EAGLE TO BE THE DECENT ONE.”
So here’s the scoop: out in Casper, Wyoming—a place best known for wind, wide skies, and probably more gas stations than people—we’ve got a story that actually doesn’t suck.
Meet Big Hank, a bald eagle with a six-foot wingspan and a no-nonsense vibe. And then there’s Lil’ Talon, a baby falcon—tiny, fast, and absolutely not supposed to be hanging out with eagles.
But does Big Hank care?
Nope. Big Hank looked at that feathered ping-pong ball and said, “You? You’re with me now.”
And like some grizzled uncle teaching you how to fix a car with duct tape and spite, Hank’s been teaching Talon how to hunt. How to fly. How to be a raptor with purpose.
And let’s be clear—this is not some warm-and-fuzzy Disney montage.
This is an apex predator taking a feathered mosquito under his wing and saying, “You got potential, kid.”
Now meanwhile, in Congress?
They're still trying to define who counts as a “real American.”
And in the Supreme Court? They’re arguing over whether bald eagles can read books in drag.
But out in Wyoming?
One eagle just taught us more about kinship, mentorship, and chosen family than half the damn country’s political class.
And George says:
“That’s the real America, right there. Not red. Not blue. Not branded with a corporate flag pin.”
Just two birds, flying against the wind. One old. One young.
One who could kill the other in a blink, choosing instead to teach him to live.
So here’s to Big Hank.
The feathered socialist.
The talon-toting life coach.
The airborne anomaly who decided that power doesn’t always mean domination.
And here’s to Lil’ Talon, too.
Fast, scrappy, and still learning. But flying a little higher every day.
George out.
And if birds can get this right, what the hell’s our excuse?
