Why did the baby cross the road? … BECAUSE HE WAS A CHICKEN!
This year was my first Dartmouth Halloweekend and it was very interesting to say the least. Some people dressed up all week — that’s too much of a time commitment for me to even wrap my head around. It took every ounce of my creativity to come up with one very hackneyed costume, so major props to those who banged out two-plus costumes last weekend (especially the guy that showed up to class as Super Mario! Oh, and the ’18s who went out in 30-degree weather wearing nothing but diapers.)
With that said, it’s sad for me to announce that the winner of my personal costume contest was not even a Dartmouth student. I know you know who I’m talking about. He was the subject of literally every sorority blitz thread, every group chat and every text conversation. That’s right, I’m talking about chicken baby.
It was a cold Friday afternoon. I was sitting at my desk and cramming to finish a writing assignment when I was first introduced to the chicken baby craze. And it was glorious.
Before I show you a picture of chicken baby, I must preface it by saying that he is the most adorable thing you will probably ever lay eyes on. I know parents are biologically programmed to think their own kids are the cutest, but I promise that this child is cuter than yours will ever be. Of course, my prediction is not backed by any statistical or scientific evidence, but it is indisputably true, nevertheless.
Without further ado, I present Henry, master of the chicken costume (and our hearts).
Here he is posing in front of Baker-Berry Library. Approximately 600 percent of Dartmouth ’18s have a Facebook profile picture in this same exact spot and in this same exact pose. This can mean either one of two things: 1) Henry is in fact an ’18 or 2) his cognitive ability is so far developed that this photo is satirically mocking our blatant social media conformity. I’m personally hoping that, by some miracle, both are true.
I was hoping to score an interview with this human-chicken genius, but unfortunately it did not work out. However, Henry’s father, speech professor Joshua Compton, did provide us with this second more serious, contemplative photo of chicken baby.
I have so many questions. I genuinely wonder what Henry is thinking in this photo. Perhaps he’s struggling with the idea of industrial poultry production. Perhaps he’s wrestling with being on the outskirts of society since he is in fact half-human, half-chicken (and not to mention severely below average human height). Is this little guy thinking up a solution to industrial farming and pollution, or is this young wrecca reciting Anglo-Saxon poetry that reflects his permanent state of exile? The answer is that he’s likely doing neither of these things, but we can never truly know for sure.
Young Henry, enigma though he is, has become a Dartmouth star. I now fully expect him to make an appearance for my next three Halloweekends here. If Henry really is the maverick that I know he is, he will not disappoint.