Let's stand back for a moment and look rationally at this phenomenon. There is something weird about a sport that attempts to confuse fish with pieces of dead animals so they think they're eating something real. Of course, reality to a trout is bugs that, under microscopic examination, would give Stephen King the willies, so maybe a mouthful of defunct chicken covering isn't so bad after all. Still, you have to wonder about a creature that will mistake a hunk of urine-stained fur from the belly of a fox for natural food. Yet this is the stuff from which superior trout flies are fashioned and that is why I feel superior to trout because I wouldn't look at the sole off a hobo's loafer and think it is T-bone.
Trout are dumb.
That's how dumb trout are. I'm superior to them. You may think this is sour grapes, that I can't catch trout, so I'm running the sport down to make myself feel better. Har de har har har, as Ralph Cramden would say. I read about a guy who raises chickens.