Perhaps if you’ve gone perusing in North Brooklyn or a place of equal coolness, you’ve seen it. That. You know a shaft which sticks out of a chicken. Without getting too technical, it is a penis that grew out of a chicken. Neither man nor poultry, it acts as a label for a particular area, primarily “this is an up and coming or already there area”. When real estate agents see it, they scream with glee, knowing that area is about to get hot and bothered.
There’s been email communication with this anonymous tagger, even a girlfriend (Pussy Ham) coming on in to join in on the fun. A few theories have been made as to who this person is:
1. Poster Boy, a street artist who grew up in a large East Coast city
2. Zombie Andy Warhol
3. Former head of the Central African Republic Ange-Félix Patassé
T
T
Of course, this being the modern age, even an anonymous graffiti artist engages in online interviews. Hell, Carles from HRO does it, why can’t some guy who draws chicken dicks do it. But I think that this isn’t an actual person per se. Rather, this is an elaborate attempt to mark out territory for the next wave of gentrifying artists. Think of those red aerosol tags on tree in “FernGully”: they claimed they were protecting the trees but were secretly destroying them.
That’s what is happening here. Supposedly “hip” artists come with a spray paint can and try their best to show that indeed it is their land. But it is just a giant conspiracy by the ultimate dick chicken. Of course I’m talking about Donald Trump.
Donald Trump is the creator of dick chicken. Hair-cut wise, the chicken matches up. And the real estate near these symbols is always in good areas. Areas you can’t afford if you’re reading this, or soon will be unable to afford. Going into bankruptcy over and over again drove the Donald mad. Plus, those divorces added up. Slowly he thought of foods to sample with his penis. Pies were the obvious choice, but he moved on to Cantaloupe, Watermelon, Squash, and Pumpkin before moving onto meats. Meats felt right, they felt a bit cannibalistic. Having already feasted on the flesh of man, he decided to try chicken, since hell, everything tastes like it. So these portraits are of his meat-laden lovers.
Using an unusual real estate tactic, he created a perfect environment for poor artist types to move in and gentrify an area. Installing used book stores and independent coffee shops (which don't even let non-paying customers use the bathrooms), he had a dream. Or rather, his brain slug (aka hair) decided this would be a better course of action than his usual modus operandi. Selling generic apartments filled with tacky gold and trim, with his name slapped on to add an extra 120-200K onto the price tag just can't cut it in the Great Recession. Dick Chicken appealed to that half-mocking/half-serious homo-erotic humor that certain (well-to-do) segments of the population indulge in.
Love and power drove him to the dick chicken, like moths to the light. Live long and prosper, you corporate cock.