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Why did the chicken cross the road?
Plato: For the greater good.Robert Anton Wilson: Because agents of the Ancient Illuminated Roosters of Cooperia were controlling it with their Orbital Mind-Control Lasers as part of their master plan to take over the world's egg production.
Aleister Crowley: Because it was its True Will to do so.
J.R.R. Tolkien: The chicken, sunlight coruscating off its radiant yellow-white coat of feathers, approached the dark, sullen asphalt road and scrutinized it intently with its obsidian-black eyes. Every detail of the thoroughfare leapt into blinding focus: the rough texture of the surface, over which countless tires had worked their relentless tread through the ages; the innumerable fragments of stone embedded within the lugubrious mass, perhaps quarried from the great pits where the Sons of Man labored not far from here; the dull black asphalt itself, exuding those waves of heat which distort the sight and bring weakness to the body; the other attributes of the great highway too numerous to give name.
Gary Gygax: Because I rolled a 64 on the "Chicken Random Behaviors" chart on page 497 of the Dungeon Master's Guide.
Timothy Leary: Because that's the only kind of trip the Establishment would let it take.
Douglas Adams: Fourty-Two
Nietzsche: Because if you gaze too long across the Road, the Road gazes also across you.
B.F. Skinner: Because the external influences which had pervaded its sensorium from birth had caused it to develop in such a fashion that it would tend to cross roads, even while believing these actions to be of its own free will.
Carl Jung: The confluence of events in the cultural gestalt necessitated that individual chickens cross roads at this historical juncture, and therefore synchronicitously brought such occurences into being.
Carl Sagan: To see the billions and billions of stars.
Jean-Paul Sartre: In order to act in good faith and be true to itself, the chicken found it necessary to cross the road.
Ludwig Wittgenstein: The possibility of "crossing" was encoded into the objects "chicken" and "road," and circumstances came into being which caused the actualization of this potential occurrence.
Robert Heinlein: Because with the freedom the chicken was given, it was the chicken's responsibility to do so.
John Constantine: Because it'd made a bollocks of things over on this side of the road and figured it'd better get out right quick.
Gandalf: O chicken, do not meddle in the affairs of roads, for you are tasty and good with barbecue sauce.
Buddha: If you ask this question, you deny your own chicken-nature.
Bill Gates: For the money
Salvador Dali: The Fish.
Darwin: It was the logical next step after coming down from the trees.
George Lucas: Because the Force was with it.
Sigmund Freud: The chicken obviously was female and obviously interpreted the pole on which the crosswalk sign was mounted as a phallic symbol of which she was envious.
Martin Luther King: It had a dream.
Stan Laurel: I'm sorry, Ollie. It escaped when I opened the run.
Epicurus: For fun.
Ralph Waldo Emerson: It didn't cross the road; it transcended it.
Werner Heisenberg: We are not sure which side of the road the chicken was on, but it was moving very fast.
David Hume: Out of custom and habit.
Saddam Hussein: This was an unprovoked act of rebellion and we were quite justified in dropping 50 tons of nerve gas on it.
George Orwell: Because Big Brother was watching to make sure that it did cross the road, although in its heart, the chicken never did.
Robert Burns:
Fair Fa Your Honest Sonsie Face
Great Chieftain O' The Chicken Race
The blackened road 'ahind ye said
Ye best run quick ere ye be deid!
The Sphinx: You tell me.
Leda: Are you sure it wasn't Zeus dressed up as a chicken? He's into that kind of thing, you know.
John Milton: To justify the ways of God to men.
Sir Isaac Newton: Chickens at rest tend to stay at rest. Chickens in motion tend to cross the road.
Sisyphus: Was it pushing a rock, too?
Dylan Thomas: To not go (sic) gentle into that good night.
Walt Whitman: To cluck the song of itself.
William Wordsworth: To have something to recollect in tranquility.
Monty Python: For Something Completely Different