Quoth the Jackdaw: Caw, caw, caw

The Testament According to the Jackdaw of Unreason

The Jackdaw of Unreason believes in God. That’s the very reason he’s called the Jackdaw of Unreason, because you can’t look to reason to believe in God — you look to unreason.

Belief in God goes against reason. Believing in a fantastic realm of an afterlife is irrational.

Reason stands like a pillar of logic on a solid foundation of fact. The reason the sun will come up tomorrow is because it has been coming up for 4.5 billion years and it’s perfectly logical — in fact, it’s a fact — that it will come up tomorrow.

Reason is rational, reason is sanity. Believing in God is irrational and insane. Only a lunatic could believe in God.

Enter the Jackdaw of Unreason. He believes in God. That’s why he’s called the Jackdaw of Unreason.

But, Jackdaw, saith I, playing the devil’s advocate, why would you believe in a God when he referred to your species, namely, vultures, buzzards, ravens, and hawks as “an abomination” among the birds? [Leviticus 11:13-19]

But the jackdaw was a step ahead of me. “You are not the Bible scholar you apparently think you are, my friend, God was referring to creatures that should not be eaten. In any case that’s the Old Testament and irrelevant here, I’m talking about a testament for these times.”

“According to the jackdaw,” I put in.

“That’s what I’m here for, right?’

The Mad Bird of Metropolis

The jackdaw is a lunatic. Not the kind of lunatic whose insanity derives from the phases of the moon, but a bona fide genuine madman, I mean madbird.

The jackdaw tells someone with reason, Forget your reason, get some unreason. Reason won’t get you to the afterlife.

Furthermore, quoth the jackdaw, faith is unreason. Faith is believing in something when there is no proof that it exists. Faith is irrational.

So, get some faith, he says. Don’t question it, just stand firm like an irrational lunatic on a fantastic unfoundation of unreason.

Ah, that jackdaw, he’s one crazy bird.

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The Jackdaw of Unreason shares his wisdom on the new masked society


Our old friend the Jackdaw of Unreason flew in from the west to talk about the new masked society.

He was interviewed by our Central Park correspondent near the East Meadow at Fifth Avenue and 97th Street. The reporter was wearing a mandated face mask.

REPORTER: Welcome Jackdaw, thanks for dropping by — oh, er, I hate to point out the obvious, but you’re not wearing a mask.

JACKDAW: Damn face masks! Do you know how many I’ve been through? Every time I put one on, my beak rips a hole in it.

REPORTER: I can see that would be a problem. Okay, we’ll keep our eyes peeled for the Covid cops.


JACKDAW: This mask law is turning society into an episode of The Twilight Zone. Imagine if you will an entire population that must always cover their faces. A guy can’t even meet a girl or a girl meet a guy in a public place anymore because they don’t know what each other looks like. A guy might have nice hair and smiling eyes but a cruel mouth. And vice versa.

REPORTER: Do do see any end to the face mask rule, Jackdaw, and all the other restrictions?

JACKDAW: I do not. I think it’s just going to get worse. Politicians are turning all of society into a miserable unhappy existence of isolation and loneliness — and in many cases, suicide.

REPORTER: You paint a very bleak picture, Jackdaw— Oh-oh, here comes a Covid cop. You could get arrested for not wearing a mask. You better take off.

JACKDAW: On my way. We’ll finish this another time.


The jackdaw flies off. A cop wearing a face shield comes over.

COP: I saw that. That bird wasn’t wearing a mask. You may have been exposed. I’ll have to take you in — you’re going into quarantine.

REPORTER: I’m wearing a mask, for god sake!

COP: Haven’t you heard? You gotta wear a face shield now. The virus can get in through the eyes — aren’t you keeping up on this stuff?

REPORTER: Of course, up to a point, but the eye thing is pushing it. What’s next? Hazmat suits?

COP: You heard, huh? Okay, let’s go.

REPORTER [into cell phone as the cop leads him away]: Hey, chief, tomorrow’s front page — Hazmat suits!

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God on Trial

Famous Defense Lawyer Represents

The courtroom was crowded, no fear of Covid in the air. The public gallery mumbled and wriggled in their chairs. Reporters were primed for the biggest story of their time.

The judge was looking dismayed, the proceedings had been delayed. The jury looked ahead, they sought justice for the dead. The prosecutor adjusted the rug atop his head.

But the defense table was bare — no one was sitting there.

The prosecutor stood and stated to the judge: The People are ready, your honor, but we seem to be missing the accused and his attorneys.

Who is acting for the defense? the judge wanted to know.

Enriqué Enza, your honor, and my formidable foe

The prosecutor did not get to finish his sentence. At that moment the courtroom door was flung open and in flew Enza. And right behind him, none other than the Jackdaw of Unreason.

The prosecutor turned abruptly in his chair, dislodging his hair.

Enza and the Jackdaw perched on the defense table. Sorry for the delay, your honor, apologized the Jackdaw.

The judge squinted through his glasses: You’re here, but where is the accused?

He’s right here, your honor.

Where? I don’t see him.

You cannot see Him, judge, but trust me, He is here.

What are you talking about? Why can’t I see him?

God is invisible, your honor, everyone knows that. He has not been seen in more than two thousand years.

I can see him! yelled a man from the public gallery. Others joined in: I can see him too! Me too!

The courtroom was crowded

The judge banged his gavel, he was beginning to unravel. The jury was confused, they began to smell a ruse.

Well, er, stammered the judge who was as dumb as a bag of rocks, how does he plead to the charge?

He makes no plea, said the Jackdaw, He hasn’t spoken in two thousand years.

The prosecutor was on his feet, sweating from the heat. God is charged with mass murder by microbe, you honor, I DEMAND THAT HE APPEAR!

Three things happened at once. A lightning bolt flashed outside breaking windows, the lights went out in the courtroom and a thunderclap shook the building.

MISTRIAL! screamed the judge and ran from the room.

The Jackdaw and Enza gave each other the high wing. The jury was terrified, they couldn’t understand a thing. The prosecutor was under his chair, looking for his hair.

God was spirited away by four and twenty blackbirds.

Reporters yelled questions at the attorneys for the Lord but they were too chickenshit to face the rabid horde.

A bailiff, who in such matters was seasoned, opened a side door and out flew Enza and the Jackdaw of Unreason.

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