One day in the city, I saw a pigeon, and he saw me. I watched as he took flight, and torqued my neck to follow his path high above the street to where he eventually perched himself on the shallow ledge of a tall building. It gave me the chills. "That's really high up there," I thought to myself, "but does a bird perceive height differently then I perceive a distance at ground level? Are they ever afraid of heights?"
Yes, in a way, they sometimes are, says Ashley Smith, chief executive of the Hawk Conservancy Trust, but it's extremely rare. Take Troy the Owl for example. Due to a fledglinghood injury, Troy's been under the care of humans for almost his entire life, and subsequently, hasn't the courage to fly any higher the 5'10" (the exact height of his handler).
This is the case with many domesticated birds, especially parrots, who've either been clipped or have had some kind of traumatic experience, resulting in an awareness of the seriousness of gravity.
But can this awareness be categorized as fear? A couple of studies suggest that in the case of humans, misperceptions of height have a relationship with our acrophobia, whether its the misjudgments that cause the fear or the other way around. Regardless, this fear is an evolutionary development which has kept us, the flightless masses, alive and respectful of the Earth's pull. To the majority of flightful birds, dealing with gravity is most-likely akin to our ascending and descending a hill... not scary, just something for which to exercise caution.
or... another possibility...
Food for thought.
Turns out, the only downside to being a six-foot tall, sewer-dwelling amphibian is that you'd probably never get laid.
Now, of course the turtles CAN have sex, but with whom? Other turtles? Completely out of the question... too small, too weird. And humans... well, without even attempting to address the staggering moral conundrum that would exhaust even the most open-minded, the fact remains that turtles have crazy weird penises. They're humungous and misshapen and if they were to mutate proportionately with a human-sized turtle... well, god help us all.
So, what in the hell are they gonna do? They're teenagers, dripping with hormones. They're all completely obsessed with April. Mikey, without even trying, successfully manages to steal some dude's date at the "Dockshore Club." They're all these muscular, funny, charming, interesting, and seemingly normal dudes, who have 3-foot-long slimy spikes instead of wieners. I reckon it's not easy being green.
Can we all remember our teen years? The awkwardness, the insecurities, the questions, the horniness... MY GOD, THE HORNINESS. Now imagine that during those years, you must come to grips with the fact that you are a giant turtle. You are not only unusual, but one of only four creatures like yourself in the whole universe... and these creatures are all male, and most likely your brothers (well, except for Venus de Milo, but she's stupid).
Is being a bad-ass vigilante mutant enough to counterbalance the fact that you will never ever get any?
