Dust, feathers and ammonia choke the air in the chicken house, and fans turn it into airborne sandpaper, rubbing skin raw. He rubs it onto his neck and chest for protection against chafing, a pale paste forming against black skin. Then he adds a loop of rough brown paper, the sort that covers tables in crab houses. You don't want that chafing. As the modern poultry industry has grown into a multibillion-dollar enterprise, every component has been relentlessly remade.
Chicken houses boast computers that control fans and curtains to regulate temperature.
Biotechnology engineers disease-resistant birds. This afternoon, Russell West enters first. His boots sink into a squishy mix of manure and wood chips as he runs a tattered plastic sheet across the width of the house, dividing the flock in two. The birds protest. They beat their wings and bounce off one another and the walls.