Ducks are interesting creatures because they’re birds but they spend a lot of time floating about on water. This is kind of like if a dog spent its time doing dog based things (barking, chasing parked cars, and waiting to be fed) but built a treehouse in its spare time and lived in it instead of its kennel. What would you do? You’d take the dog to a dog behaviour specialist.
Unfortunately, you can’t do this with ducks because they’re not domesticated (apart from the one Chandler and Joey had in Friends) and, consequently, this places the species outside of your jurisdiction. If you want to train a duck to do other than stuff like create idioms (“water off a duck’s back”) then you endeavour to purchase a rubber duck, a bizarre evolutionary part of the waterfowl series of birds.
How Did Rubber Ducks Evolve?
It’s believed, but not known as a certainty, a sub-species of duck began to evolve a few decades after the Industrial Revolution began. This was a moment in history when humans began to prefer machines to themselves, and it allowed for the creation of giant devices such as the cotton mill or the iPad. Inevitably, it will lead to our extinction once the singularity is achieved (as seen in Terminator 2) – but this is a story for a different era to deal with.
Today, we’re on about rubber ducks, and rubber ducks are what we’re going to discuss – not apocalyptic events (for our take on this, please visit Apocalypse Scenarios We’d Embrace). Thusly, returning to the previous paragraph, we have an era where the mass production of stuff like plastic began. Plastic… and rubber. Rubber, of course, is a key part of a duck’s DNA, and we believe the amalgamation of these factors led to the new species.
It makes sense. Rubber floats. What else floats? Ducks. Thusly, ducks gradually evolved a rubber counterpart which did away with legs (duck legs are also known as “duck paddles”, interestingly) as the sub-species simply didn’t need them. Which is interesting?
FFS… Rubber Ducks Aren’t Sentient Beings!
Of course they are, fools! For, you see, and tragically, the rubber duck has become so rubberised it no longer can move or apply any appropriate lifelike features to itself. This has advantages as the duck’s typical prey (great white sharks, geese, hungry humans, donkeys, and alien beings from distant planets) take no interest in the rubber duck. It’s natural selection in motion, and if you ask us it’s bloody beautiful.
Thusly, the next time you’re taking a bath please do bear (whilst you’re bare) in mind the little dear floating in your limb isn’t to be emotionally blackmailed or verbally abused – it is a living creature which merely looks like it’s a child’s plaything. It’s the miraculous nature of the world before your very eyes – weep if you must, your tears will at least top up your bath.