The Birds Is Coming already suggests poetry with its ungrammatical syntax. It suggests that these individuals have become a singularity; finally, something unified: a movie. But poetry is wrong; movies are wrong. Each bird is particular, suggests its own reasons.
“It’s funny because my mom wasn’t allowed to see it because her mom said it would give her nightmares and then she skipped school to see it and lo and behold she had nightmares. She pulled this story out whenever I wanted to do anything that she didn’t want me to.”
It became her reason for acting.
It is interesting to note that no natural bird sounds were used in the soundtrack although they are memorable; memorably fooling viewers into believing that the human is the natural. That’s where the movie functions, in the vice versa
where the inhuman comes from the earth and possesses an apparent psychology. While
Thomas Nagel asks the question, “What is it like to be a bat?” Or more generally, what is it like to map yourself onto some other entity with consciousness? What if I map myself onto a whale, dog, President Bush, my mom, a tiger, etc.? What creeps up for me is, what if I map myself onto “I”? What then?
We cannot ask the birds what they’re thinking. Or, we can ask, but they will not answer.
MacGuffin: Whatever drives a question is pinned in stillness.
It could be Freudian. Freud was quite in vogue at the time.
but excuse me I’m not a Freudian. I don’t think our psychological pasts will all blow up in our faces, I don’t believe in repression; however,
urbanity’s
restless tracking
has brought
the earth’s
nervous pecking
to the country.
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