The exhibit itself has something to do with inverting the typical museum-visitor relationships by allowing visitors to take home the installation, an act that would normally be a huge museum faux pas (trust me, I know). You take it home with instructions for its care, and after a day or two, you release it and it flies home. But whatever. The question is, can it fly home faster than I can? The answer is, I don't fucking think so. Pigeons may be fast, but I'm like Speed Racer, Flash Gordon and an 8-ball of meth all rolled into one. Plus, pigeons are stupid.
Based on what I know about pigeons, I've prepared these two maps comparing my projected route from the Westword office to the MCA against what I guess the pigeon's will be. Notice mine is straight and comprehensive:
As for the pigeon, there's no telling what that fucker's going to do. I'm not even sold on it knowing it's in a race at all. One thing is certain, though: I'm going to win this race, just like I won at gay running and arm wrestling (note: I did not actually win at arm wrestling).The exhibit opens tomorrow, and the race will begin as soon as we can convince the MCA to give me a pigeon, in spite of their having 86'd me from their premises forever. And we'll bring back video of the victory, so stay tuned. In the meantime, WATCH OUT, PIGEON! I'M ABOUT TO FUCK YOU UP!