Yes, I Attacked That Woman, And I’d Do It Again

Let's get one thing straight: We eagles obey no courts of law. We heed no judges. We've never even heard of the concept that you call "police." So however many times you try to tell me that everything I say can and will be used against me in a court of law, your threats mean nothing to me. The carceral system is for you puny humans, not us noble eagles. I don't come into your home and tell you how to live your life! OK? OK. With that understanding, I will now share my side of the story.

I was minding my business in the tropical forests of French Guiana, which, as you may imagine, is my home. I live by the Kourou River Basin, near the coast, and aside from the occasional ecotourist, my home is undisturbed. Would I prefer a home free of uninvited guests? Yes, obviously. But do I generally put up with a few sightseers? Yes, because I am not an asshole. I watch these tourists as they take photos of smaller, less noble birds, like those annoying-as-hell great kiskadees squawking all day long or those twangy silver-beaked tanagers. All the real big players in the forest, like me and the jaguars, are too smart to be "captured" by a "content creator." But occasionally, when I'm feeling generous or having a great feather day, I'll cock my head and emerge from my perch high in the canopy to give them a little show. I watch them as they snap photos of me with their obscenely phallic camera lenses. In this, at least, we are aligned: I'm literally stunning. If I saw me perched elegantly overhead, I too would have to stop and stare.