by 
Peacocks can’t understand the everyday reality of other birds because their iridescent purple feathers and flashy tails give them an unfair advantage.
Strutting around manicured gardens at stately homes and Indian palaces has completely divorced your average peacock from life as it’s lived at the sharp end by chaffinches and lapwings, other birds have told the big, smug purple bastards.
Sparrows are understood to be especially aggrieved, as they have to chirp all steadfastly day for a shot at some breadcrumbs and maybe some cold bacon fat; while Mister Swanky Peacock just has to show people his arse, and they all go ‘how beautiful’ and hand out some caviar or whatever it is they eat.
“That’s the problem with your peacock,” we were told by a mangy pigeon with one foot.
“They’ve never had to get up at 5 am to spend twelve solid hours pecking a lump of chewing gum off the pavement like a proper bird.
“People actually pay for peacock feathers. Pay! I’m lucky if my feathers get used for nesting by mice after I’m killed and eaten.
“How can a peacock know how a real bird lives?”
Peacocks are understood to be confused by the criticism, insisting that they fully support other birds in their struggle and would like to contribute their odd, wailing call if they weren’t shouted down all the time.
“We’re really sympathetic to the hardship of others,” a peacock told us.
“I really like other birds; I just prefer not living anywhere near them.
“Why can’t swallows stay in Africa rather than migrating here and eating all our insects?
“And magpies. They’re all thieves, you know.”
