The Rorschach Thrush

*editor's note: in the following paragraphs there is a suggestion that the arrival of the Swainson's Thrush is concurrent with the spring equinox. As this is undoubtedly true for some parts of the world, the approximate arrival dates for this bird in Washington State are mid-late April. The first songs are heard a couple of weeks later, generally. However, the weather is so shitty here on and around March 21st that I would argue that Relative Spring comes much later...say, around the time that Swainson's show up and start belting it out. Apologies for the incongruity. Forgiveness is begged.

Winter solstice has come and gone from these northern latitudes. The spent champagne corks of New Years Eve have all washed out to sea. The Nativity scenes that once graced lawns across the city have been broken down and stored away for the season; the 3 Wise Men stacked, crotch-to-nose, beneath the teats of the Holy Cow, among the winterized mower and moldy badminton set. Baby Jesus, pinned to the garage wall by string and a roofing nail, floats above the bovine head, his angelic face mustachioed and left arm missing, blasphemous modifications from a merry band of vandals that swept through the neighborhood on the eve of His birth. Joseph, for his part, stands alone in a corner, behind the golf clubs, while his virgin wife sits fireside within the comfort of the house, her soft gaze fixed on the brandy-breathed homeowner arrayed at her feet. A halo of spent nitrous-cartridges surround them, his weeping wetting the cradled plastic foot in his hands.

Here, tucked just south of the 49th parallel, our solar rations grow a little larger each day and though we are still firmly in the icy grips of Deep Winter, we are allowed to dream a little. With caution we cultivate small embers of hope. Meager longings are given longer leash. Thoughts of what the spring will bring forth, if it should ever come again, are again permissible. In the low angled light we venture out, bundled in earth toned rags and loud stocking hats, seeking the sparse rays that occasionally, miraculously penetrate the gray gloom.

The other day, as we shuffled through the brown slush beneath the witch fingered trees that line our charming, burnt out downtown sector, an esteemed colleague of mine, Scout Kremlin, Master of Owls and of Irredeemable Real Estate, received a call. He has for his cellphone ringtone the song of the Swainson's Thrush.

It is difficult to approximate the ecstasy I felt upon hearing that unearthly ringing escaping from his pants. The rising, spiraling thermal of broken glass sent me into a reverie that left me huddled against a brick wall, eyes watering, mumbling incoherently to myself. A passersby lobbed some coins at me. I came out of my trance, purified, awestuck, 37 cents richer.

The Swainsong has always had a time-travelling effect on me, sending me back to the first time its beauty was brought to my attention. Tall Paul, renegade handy-man, flyfishing wizard and dirtbag naturalist, his Pall Mall trailing smoke, following the Swainsong skyward, taught me my first bird songs and rudimentary IDs. The dark-eyed junco wears a Darth Vadar helmet, its song a phone ringing. The fire-eyed towhee calls like a cat. Red-breasted nuthatch sounds like a truck backing up.

Everytime I hear the Swainson's, there I am, dumb-ass teenager, wounded, spiteful, pissed at the world, the same world whose beauty is just beginning to melt my cold, boreal heart. Tall Paul looms large in the memory, lighting his next smoke with the previous one's cherry, a circle unbroken, wiping out the old fire on his pant leg. The spent ciggy butt is inserted into his pants pocket, for Tall Paul doesn't litter.

Fused with this memory are all subsequent springs that the song has ushered in, a helix of sonic stasis, of time suspended. The bird's vibrating syrinx a unifying conduit of an Equinox Eternal. An ever-expanding moment, a floating world that materializes out of the mist only to rise up and disappear into the ether.  

I had to know if the Swainsong had the same effect on others. Surely, even among non-birders, the song had to elicit Deep Feelings. Maybe some would hear it as an inquiry into the Great Mystery. Perhaps it would unsettle some bowels, a naturally-occurring Brown Note, the infamous tone sought after for centuries by clergymen and other weirdos.

A recording of a Swainson's Thrush song was played for individuals as encountered at St. Andrew's Assisted Living Community, Blackbird Coffehouse and Franklin Elementary School. A lackluster hacky sack circle at the community college was also sampled. The subjects were asked to describe the song in whatever language came to mind, however florid or plain. The following list catalogs these descriptions.

Raspy ascending yodel
A toilet being flushed
A warble unraveling
It's doing spirals!
Frantically optimistic
Hysterical laughter
As if water is flowing upstream
I think it could be the last sound, as everything we could ever know
     is spun down a cosmic drain into a black hole.
The sound my head makes as it spins upward in the forest, looking for a secret
Some elf dude, really high, playing, like, a flute
A tornado that makes harmony instead of chaos
Window into eternity
The piper at the gates of dawn
Swirling cascades of mist
Waterfalls made of clouds
Kinda like when Mario eats a mushroom in that old Nintendo game
Exuberant spirals of metallic bubbles
A pretty chicken

------------
photos by Seagull Steve
sonagram by Mike Nelson Birdtour Asia 
www.xeno-canto.org/177489
creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-sa/4.0/legalcode

Migrant Chugging

The birds are just chugging through South Texas now...anything and everything seems to be showing up. My sense of birding FOMO is growing quite acute, although my obsessive monitoring of the weather makes me not worried that I'll be missing a fallout anytime soon. Right. I was lucky enough to come across some cooperative Yellow-billed Cuckoos last weekend. Usually shy and reclusive, the cuckoo does not always stick to it's reputation in the company of one #7 birder.

I could get used to hanging out with stationary cuckoos. I feel like they do this a lot. I wonder what these birds mull over when not migrating or casually decimating tent caterpillar colonies.

Scarlet Tanagers are also moving through now, with reckless abandon. Birders are getting blinded left and right...many will never be able to see color again. I swear there is nothing redder than a male Scarlet Tanager. A cardinal appears dull and lifeless in comparison.

The notorious threat posture of the male Scarlet Tanager is enough to make anyone weak in the knees.

Drab birds want to be crushed too. Here is a female Scarlet Tanager. Note the short, grayish bill and contrasting dark wings, which help set them apart from female Summer Tanagers. They actually remind me of female Painted Buntings a little bit.

This is the one and only Veery I've seen this year. On the day I saw it, it was constantly foraging way out in the open. Very few people seemed to notice it though, although it seemed to be begging for the attention of all birders and photographers in the area. Pro tip from #7: if you want to avoid the hordes of birders and photographers at South Padre Island, watch brown birds.

See? Begging for attention. The descending, ethereal song of the Veery is one of my favorites by the way...if you've never heard one, be assured that you are poorer for it.

Although gifted with a Veeryish voice, the song of the Swainson's Thrush doesn't compare. No offense Swainson's Thrush.

I do enjoy Swainson's Thrushes...they are a fun bird to study, and relatively variable. The birds here are much drabber than those of the west coast, but still have a lot of color in the face. And yes, I have seen a couple Gray-cheeked already this spring.

There are piles of Indigo Buntings out on South Padre right now. Talk about facemelting. I'm not really accustomed to crushing helpless birds like this but I'm not complaining. If Scarlet Tanager owns the color red, Indigo Bunting has mastered the color blue.

There are often a pleasant number of birds around. Sometimes there are hella. This is hella. Here are Indigo Buntings, Orchard and Baltimore Orioles.

Dickcissel has arrived!!!! Before this year I've only seen them as vagrants in California. Now I feel like a non-vagrant Dickcissel veteran...I've seen some big flocks on SPI. I'm still trying to make sense of their face and breast pattern...its complicated. Their distinctive, fart-like calls easily give them away as flyovers.

Franklin's Gulls are still coming north in big numbers. Note the limited black visible in the underwing, and obvious white primary tips, which help differentiate it from Laughing Gull. Of course, Laughing Gulls do not have pink bellies.

The other day I went out after some north winds had been blowing, hoping for more migrants putting down than usual. While there was no fallout, there were thousands of Franklin's Gulls around the convention center. Here is a chunk of the big roosting flock.

The Global Birder Ranking System has subsequently informed me that being in the presence of so many Franklin's Gulls has awarded me +8 points. Not a bad way to level up. All photos in today's post were taken on South Padre Island, TX.

The Human Birdwatcher Project Presents: A Major Leak From the Global Birder Ranking System (Rise and Measure the Temple of the Five)

What does Final Five material know about Swainson's Thrush? Everything. Dry Tortugas National Park, FL.

BREAKING NEWS. Being the Number 7 birder in the United States, I am constantly besieged with questions about the Global Birder Ranking System (GBRS) that assigned me this lofty position in the first place. As I have mentioned before, GBRS is very secretive, and those of us considered to be Birding Giants are typically under various gag orders...we are able to acknowledge the existence of GBRS, but giving out details is not something we are typically free to do.

Until now. I recently received this memo (something I am normally not privy to) from an Anonymous Source about the current guidelines of potential inclusion into the vaunted Final Five; the top 5 birders in the country. Although I put my ranking and reputation at great risk by releasing this information to you all, hopefully it will put an end to the one of the questions I get the most...how do you get into the highest circle of the greatest birders in the United States?

Below is the complete memo, almost entirely intact, brought to you by none other than The Human Birdwatcher Project ("Birders are people too!"). Please do not ask me to explain the quote at the bottom...certain things are better left unsaid.

Subject: Memo: Standards and Practices for the Recertification and Inclusion of New Members of the Final Five
From: The Global Birder Ranking System (High Cabal)
To: The Global Birder Ranking System ( Class Bravo Birderer Technicians)

Hello GBRS staff, we hope this memo finds you well. With the discovery of mega-crippler Rufous-necked Wood-Rail (which earned Mr. Daw an outstanding 84 points!), many of you newer staff have been wondering how discoveries like this (or lack thereof) can affect the standings of The Final Five. The Final Five, of course, have all been there for several years now, with 4th and 5th place birders switching places several times as a result of certain eyebrow-raising gull misidentifications and a brief but bizarre public meltdown of Number 4 while chasing a Pink-footed Goose last winter. This outburst has since been attributed by the GBRS Ranking Audits Division (GBRS-RAD) to the observer's marathon of whisky consumption, brought on by a particularly nasty dip from the day before. GBRS-RAD recently determined this was an act of desperation, rather than deeply-ingrained personality flaws manifesting themselves (see March 2012 memo "Recurring Traits Found in GBRS Low-Ranked American Birders"). 

The GBRS High Cabal wants to reassure you junior staff that the regulations for eligibility of The Final Five have remained much as they have been since the January 2011 memo. As a refresher, here are the current requirements for inclusion in the Final Five.

Most birders could not tell you how to identify an immature Great Frigatebird, which is showing off its characteristic ruddy head and pink feet. The Final Five would know this bird instantly, with no need for field guides. Photographed at Midway Atoll.

1. Identification Skills. It goes without saying that the most important factor in ranking of the Final Five are a birder's identification skills. The Final Five must be leaders in the most challenging aspects of North American bird identification, particularly groups such as gulls, tubenoses, female hummingbirds, flycatchers, etc. Intimate knowledge of Mexican, Central American, Siberian, Caribbean and European species that have or could occur in the United States is expected as well.

The Final Five are constantly on the lookout for unexpected birds, no matter the chances against them. Gray-backed Tern (this one from Midway Atoll) may someday reward southern Californian birders who put in time sorting through summer tern flocks.

2. Birds Found. The quickest way a birder can increase their standing in GBRS is not to chase rare birds, but to find them. For example, points earned for documenting a Ross's Gull can (at least temporarily) completely offset a birder's consistent inability to differentiate Red-necked and Little Stint at 500 yards. Of course finding a national mega carries the most weight, but everything from state records to documenting localized breeding for the first time can cumulatively bear heavily on a Final Five contender's GBRS score.

A birder could have Grasshopper Sparrow for every county in their state, and that would not propel them into the Final Five. Medicine Lake National Wildlife Refuge, MT.

3. Lists. The classified formula of calculating a birder's lists and integrating them into their GBRS score remains the same. It is important to stress the fact that impressive list totals often are not found in conjunction with the other attributes listed in this document.

Anyone in the Final Five knows that despite it being an exotic waterfowl species, there has been no suspected case of escapee Tufted Ducks in California for years. Lake Merritt, Oakland, CA.

4. Vagrants and Escapees. The Final Five must have a firm grip on knowing the provenance of birds whose origins are questionable. Neither cage bird conspiracy theorists nor blatantly biased stringers will be eligible for upgrading to The Final Five. Those who have been on the right side of history in cases like this (which may or may not be in accordance to various state committee decisions) will be rewarded appropriately.

In terms of molt and plumage, the appearance of this Mississippi Kite would be challenging to describe for many birders. Not so, for the Final Five. Dairy Mart Ponds, Tijuana River Valley, CA.

5. Molt. Simply, complete memorization of the contents of the Pyle books is expected; additional knowledge and insight is preferred. It should go without saying that bird topography must be known like the back of one's hand. The benefits of molt mastery are many and need not be explained here.

Top-ranked birders have been gossiping about the potential split between Western and Eastern Willets for years. A thorough, respectable genetic study would probably seal the deal; Final Five candidates would know what types of studies would be acceptable in this particular case. "Western" Willet, Marina Park, Ventura, CA.

6. Genetics. The field of genetic studies of birds resulting in splitting and lumping species is fluid and constantly undergoing change. It is paramount that the Final Five know both the current and obsolete methods used in avian genetic studies, the history of these tools, and splits and lumps that may occur going forward.

All current Final Five birders are intimately familiar with the flight call of Blackburnian Warbler. Some inexperience with flight calls of rare and range-restricted species (i.e. Kirtland's Warbler, Colima Warbler) is acceptable for future Final Five candidates. Dry Tortugas National Park, FL.

7. Flight Calls. Vocalizations are a basic, crucial part of various identifications and need not be discussed here. However, flight calls of passerines are known to a small minority of birders and can provide conclusive identification of unseen flyover birds. Western birders in particular suffer from a lack of knowledge in this field, due to differences in species communities and the nature of migration in western states. Future nominees for the Final Five from western states are expected to overcome this regional handicap.

While the laybirder may suggest that the crest of Crested Auklet may simply be a function of breeding plumage, the Final Fiver will know that a study has shown that they serve an important function in feeling their way around the dimly-lit rock crevices where they nest. Buldir Island, AK.

8. Science. The Final Five need not hold degrees in a scientific field, although it is helpful. However, a solid understanding of science and it's framework of critical thinking is necessary. There is no room in The Final Five for theoretical ornithologists, who put forth theories on bird behavior, movements, appearance, and biology based on complete speculation and guesswork.

A member of the Final Five is expected to exude a wealth of knowledge pertaining to all North American birds. In a recent test by GBRS-RAD, GBRS birders ranked 1-5 all correctly answered that the set gillnet fishery for Kodiak Island, AK, had an estimated bycatch of 28 Red-faced Cormorants in 2002. Buldir Island, AK. 

9. Knowledge. Encyclopedic knowledge of birdlife is expected in The Final Five. This includes, but is not limited to, status and distribution of birds down to very fine temporal and spatial scales, repertoire of vocalizations, variations of specific plumages and morphology, behavior, conservation issues, and known connections to ecosystems. Knowledge is power, and one cannot become a power-birder without it.

This bucolic scene features birders displaying exemplary conduct. They demonstrate a youthful vigor, ostensible camaraderie, potential solidarity, a healthy interest in something other than birds, and excellent calves.

10. Conduct. A birder is a birder both in the field and after the binoculars come off.  The Final Five are expected to have social skills far and above those of the average birder, or to be explicitly clear, the social skills one would expect from the average nonbirder. Expected conduct does not compel the Final Five to be mild-mannered or inoffensive, but the following habits and traits are strongly desired: Not embarrassing themselves in online forums/Facebook groups/listservs; keeping an even temper; comprehension of basic social cues (i.e. the ability to detect and dispense sarcasm, making a joke that other people can understand, etc); lacking prejudices against large swaths of the population (i.e. men, women, Asians, beginning birders etc.); not pronouncing bird names in bizarre, completely unconventional ways; not being overly serious, petty, or passive-aggressive. A mild amount of awkwardness is acceptable for members of the Final Five, however the stifling awkwardness abundant in the birding community generally prevents birders from advancing beyond Birder #85 or so.

With the number of skilled but socially isolated, hermit-like birders in the United States whose conduct is poorly understood, GBRS is considering the creation of a supplemental list to track and rate hermit birders. A decision on the creation of this new ranking subset is expected in the coming months. 

Moving forward, we continue to cast a wary eye on the incursion of photographers into the birding community and the increasingly gray area between birders and photographers, which some worry may potentially complicate GBRS scoring. At this point in time we will stay the course and not score those who have not admitted to being a birder, in public or otherwise.

The annual GBRS 4th of July BBQ in Bridgeport, CA, was a great success! Congratulations to Birder #38, who won the chili cook-off.

The shorebirds are moving south friends, and as their numbers swell, so too will your GBRS score. Good birding everyone, and as always...

"Limiting diffusions to two dimensions increases the number of evolutionary jumps within the species. Rise and measure the Temple of the Five. Transformation is the goal. They will not harm their own."

Please destroy this document after reading. Thank you! - GBRS High Cabal

June: A Good Month For Robin-Stroking

Whimbrels are often present late into spring, but by the middle of June most shorebirds on the California coast are done migrating. June is, in fact, the only month that is bad for shorebirding in California...we have a few breeding species and some oversummering individuals, but shorebird numbers are very low compared to May (when many migrants are still moving north) and July (when many migrants are already coming south). Of course, the White-rumped Sandpiper trio (***MEGAS***)  in Del Norte County was unexpected and infuriating, as Del Norte County is far from just about everywhere in the state.

It's June. The first 10 days or so can be fantastic for vagrant eastern songbirds, but other than that, there is not much going on in the bird world aside from getting down to the business of making more birds. A few late migrants are still moving through, but many species are fledging chicks already. Those that whine about "summer doldrums" are probably not looking for vagrants, or can't wait the few weeks for shorebirds to begin arriving on their southbound flights.

I've only done a paltry amount of birding so far this month that wasn't on the clock, so to speak. Hopefully I'll get to the mountains during my next island break and rack up some nice elevation birds for the year list...can you believe I haven't seen a White-headed Woodpecker in years? How embarrassing.

Black Turnstones are one of the species you can expect to see coming south in July. Many will still be sporting their fancy white marks of the breeding season. Fellow rockpipers Wandering Tattlers, Surfbirds and Ruddy Turnstones will be right behind them. Rincon Beach, Carpenteria, CA.

Heermann's Gulls are already coming back into the state after breeding in Mexico. It's always refreshing to see them after having nothing to look at but Western Gulls and haggard California Gulls for the last couple of months...they are truly gulls cut from a different cloth. Sausalito, CA.

Least Terns had a disastrous breeding season in 2012 at many different colonies in California, likely due to a shortage food brought on my warmer than normal water temperatures. Hopefully they bounce back this year, or else I will slip into a state of catatonic depression. Photographed at Oceanside, CA.

Scripps's Murrelets started nesting way before everybody else and are pretty much done sitting on nests. Those who successfully hatched a chick (like Ancient Murrelets, chicks leave the nest very soon after hatching) will be at sea escorting their progeny around. Photographed off San Diego, CA.

This was one of the last Sharp-shinned Hawks I saw this year, back in mid-April. In southern California, they won't be back until September. Note the shrunken-looking head in this photo, a field mark that is at least as helpful (if not more) than tail shape. Sisar Canyon, Ojai, CA.

In late spring one of the commonest species still moving through California deserts is Wilson's Warbler.  It's funny, if you only birded the coast you would never really grasp how abundant these birds are. Galileo Hill, outside California City, CA.

Swainson's Thrush is another migrant that still can be found in some numbers at the very beginning of June in the desert migrant traps. In fact, people shouldn't even bother looking for these birds on their breeding grounds, they are too damn hard to see. Just go to the desert during the spring and watch them hop around on lawns like robins. Galileo Hill.

Warbling Vireos are one of our humblest birds. There is probably no one in the entire world who considers Warbling Vireo their favorite bird. Sure they have a pretty song and they are a welcome migrant, but who doesn't have stronger feelings for their slightly-cuter and more colorful relative, Philadelphia Vireo? California City Central Park, California City, CA (obvi).

Ash-throated Flycatcher. Doesn't the bird look unusually brown-headed in this photo? Everyone knows Empidonax cause migraines, but Myiarchus can cause aneurysms. Sisar Canyon, Ojai, CA.

This Rufous-crowned Sparrow on Santa Cruz Island picked the ugliest possible perch to conduct its dawn chorus. A resident species, it's quite possible that this sparrow will be within view of this lovely solar panel for its whole life. The breeding species on the island are still singing a lot, but not quite as much as in April and May.

Ah, sweet sweet Song Sparrow breeding success. Is it just me or does the fledgling have a distinct Savannah Sparrow look to its face? Santa Cruz Island.

Back In The (Silver) Saddle

This is my FOY WEWP! Western Wood-Pewee is not often thought of as a beautiful bird...but now that you have seen my crush, I believe you think otherwise.

Ah, the desert. The desert means different things to different people. To average people, "the desert" screams boredom and dusty wastes. To climbers and hikers, the desert means adventure...dusty adrenaline mixed a unique flavor of peace and quiet. To birders, there are those who think of the desert birds...the thrashers, the sparrows, Verdins, Cactus Wrens and the like...and then there are those who think of migrants. California's deserts, from Death Valley to the Colorado River, offer excellent birding during migration, if you know where to look. Thousands of migrant songbirds pass through these areas and spring and fall, and where there is greenery, there will be birds. You show me a lawn and trees, and I will show you some goddamn vagrants....eventually. That's how this works.

Way back before I was the Number 7 birder in the nation, I used to go out to the Kern desert and scour the place for vagrants...I have many fond memories of Butterbredt Springs (Bay-breasted Warbler, Prairie Warbler, Hooded Warbler, etc.), California City (Golden-winged Warbler, Black-throated Blue Warblers, Gray Catbirds, Dickcissel, etc.) and Galileo Hill (Virginia's Warbler, Lark Bunting, Least Bittern, etc.). I lost track years ago of the number of lifers I stacked up out there as a young birder...but sadly, I have not been able to return to these sacred migrant traps since the good old days.

What's that? You want me to crush this helpless pewee even harder??? Cool, here you go.

Seriously guys, I think I'm almost beyond crushing here. I don't know if this bird can take being documented so well. And what's with the contrasting brown auricular patch? I don't understand it, but I like it.

When I accepted this job on Santa Cruz Island, one of the instant perks that I thought of was being within striking distance of the Kern County hotspots during spring migration. Aside from being rarity-magnets, these sites pull in so many birds that you actually get a sense that a major movement of songbirds is happening...nothing unusual for those on the eastern half of the continent, but for west coast birders this is a really big deal. And when you are deprived of such migratory goodness for much of the year...you crave it.

And so I waited until early May, when I made my triumphant return to Galileo Hill and Kern County. I swear, when getting out of the car at Galileo Hill, I felt like MacArthur coming back to the Phillippines. Although Galileo failed to provide any birds with eastern flavors, the numbers of migrants were unlike anything I'd seen in California in years. Today's succulent content covers a few of the birds and unnervingly realistic dinosaurs of Galileo Hill.

Male Costa's Hummingbird is one of the coolest SoCal birds, I reckon. The head of a male morphs into a blob of indescribable brilliance in just the right light, and they have a long, weird and whimsical song that makes them easy to identify by ear.

Female Costa's Hummingbird, on the other hand, is a pretty tough ID, especially for those of you who don't get to see this bird very often. Without a good look, they can easily be mistaken for a female Black-chinned. But surely you own a field guide, and the likes of Jon Dunn and David Sibley can break down the ID process better than I.

This is Midnight the cat, who apparently lives there. Midnight took an instant liking to us when we arrived...Bird Police Officer Searcy and I were, of course, super stoked when it started following us around while we birded, meowing loudly. Nothing attracts rare birds like a large, black, noisy cat. So we had to call in the local cat control.

Help came in the form of a random Jack Russell terrier, who didn't seem attached to any human. He is stationed there to keep Midnight away from birders, according to Officer Searcy. After watching the dog and the cat try to kill each other for several minutes, we took advantage of the distraction to sneak off and go birding without small predators in tow.

Catharus thrushes were plentiful this day. Many of the Hermit Thrushes we came across had very gray upperparts, very different than the individuals that winter across the state.

Perhaps this is auduboni, or a very similar subspecies. Nice to this flavor of Hermit Thrush again, at any rate.

Swainson's Thrushes typically outnumber Hermits considerably during the spring months at many migrant traps in eastern California. Although Hermit Thrushes can vary in the amount of contrast they show between the tail and the rest of their upperparts, Swainson's always sport the same colors from the top of their heads to the tips of their tails.

Galileo Hill, where all of these photos were taken, also goes by Silver Saddle Ranch. It is private property, and you must sign in at the office if you wish to bird there. If you do anything stupid to threaten the access birders get to this unique site, the entire California birding community will hunt you down and make your life a living hell. The Bird Police will sit idly by and watch as you are bludgeoned with binoculars, tripods, and unimaginably large lenses...they are a corrupt and vengeful bunch.

It's probably best that I don't explain this...be sure to show it to your kids before they go to bed though.