Crow committee is for the birds

Board up your windows, shield your children (or somebody's children), hide your spouse, write your will and evacuate quickly; the crow invasion is upon us.

Currently you are safe, but at the end of this month masses of red-eyed, winged death beasts will perch on top of your homes, your cars and the sweet, innocent faces of your kids.

Campus, especially, is at risk. A crow may stalk you as you walk to class; it'll wait to strike when you least expect it, ripping out your very heart with its claws and holding it up for the others to see.  The murder (flock) will then feast on it in front of your family…and then the crows will eat your family. They eat everything.

And when they're not terrorizing the streets, they will bury the townspeople in their fecal matter. Gobs of people will cry out among the floating debris; residents will helplessly cling to their belongings as the poopy soup sweeps them into the chaos. 

Finally, the four horsemen of the apocalypse will descend from the sky. But they'll probably take a look at all of the carnage and get the hell out of there. 

Despite the impending doom, a group plans to battle it out against the merciless soul scavengers. The Terre Haute Crow Committee met Tuesday at City Hall, in fact.

As stated in Thursday's Tribstar article "Committee's ‘caw'ing: Controlling the crows," a team of volunteers has been assembled to tackle the crow problem. Last year, the committee had a budget of $18,000, most of which went toward launchers, high-visibility vests…and fireworks.

What better way to combat the crow crisis? As the birds are devouring our internal organs and carrying first-born babies to their nest to feed, they can celebrate the country's independence. Year round.

Don't you understand, Terre Haute? Crows are smart creatures. Flashy lights and loud noises may phase the birds at first, but they'll be back. And even though they look like they're scattering out of fear, what they're really doing is mocking you.

Another fact you might consider is that crows remember faces. A study conducted by Dr. John Marzluff of the University of Washington in 2008 proved that. So, volunteers, as you're kicking off your fancy fireworks show, the crows are watching you, and they're remembering who you are.

They also know your home address, social security number, birthday and mother's maiden name.

Crows have migrated to Terre Haute for many years by the thousands. And while the city is hopeful about driving the pesky birds away, I can't help but feel like it's a lost cause.

I mean, while we're at it, why don't we just assemble a task force for other bothersome animals. Deer and squirrels are pretty prevalent around Vigo County. I wouldn't mind seeing a pigeon committee either.

Instead of spending nearly $20,000 on annoying birds, we should be spending that cash on ammunition for Terre Haute's real issues.

We can start with jobs and crime.