The World's Dumbest Bird

The world's dumbest bird lives outside my house.
For over a month now, he has taken every opportunity to attack the cardinal he sees reflected in various windows around the place, nailing each one with a sharp rap from his beak, and then sitting there, surprised, for a moment when his opponent fails to magically disappear.
This isn't an accident. This isn't a case of a bird just flying along and slamming into a window it didn't realize was there (which, to be fair, is a major cause of depopulation of American songbirds, along with power lines, predatory house cats, and Dr. Teeth and the Electric Mayhem's cover of "Rockin' Robin"). No, this cardinal deliberately sets up right outside the window, settles in, and - with the presumptive Mrs. Cardinal watching - shows that other cardinal, the one in the glass, who's boss. It starts at daybreak - WHAMP. WHAMP. WHAMP. - and goes until either My Delicate Bellicose Flower or I goes downstairs to chase the bird off. This lasts maybe ten minutes, until he circles around the house, finds another window containing the image of another challenger, and sets up again.
The cats, for their part, are useless. I suspect they're waiting on the moment when the bird finally summons a supreme effort, busts through the ridiculously constructed energy-safe double-layer whateverthehellIbought windows and collapses on the dining room floor, thus meeting the feline definition of "pizza delivery".
He's at it again today. Started at 7 AM. The world's dumbest bird, a cardinal.
I think I'll call him "Rex Hudler".