Taken

take-a-life

Taken

I don’t understand this world or its people who claim intelligence. Who pretend superiority over Nature and her creatures.

They know nothing.

They are nothing beyond a difficult species who thrive off violence to themselves, to the earthlings, to the planet.

Such an arrogant, selfish lot of myrmidons whose ignorance baffles me to no end. Superstitious and gullible and hateful, all while pretending to Godliness; who fancy themselves a heavenly reward beyond this life, simply for their act of obedience to the God they’ve contrived, which forgives them their crimes of murder and theft.

What manner of insanity drives these people, I fail to comprehend.

When they take an earthling’s life for food, or to wear their skin, or to let their captivity entertain them, then they take something that never belonged to them.

Their thievery is a horrid sort. With ramifications impossible to gauge but obvious to those possessed with the will to see.

Killing, Get It?

Enormous beef plants are designed to process large volumes of arriving cattle. After cattle are stunned, they are bled out on the Cargill production line in Dodge City, Kan. They then go through a "carcass wash;" their hides are removed; and the cattle are cut into pieces. (Keith Myers/The Kansas City Star)
Enormous beef plants are designed to process large volumes of arriving cattle. After cattle are stunned, they are bled out on the Cargill production line in Dodge City, Kan. They then go through a “carcass wash;” their hides are removed; and the cattle are cut into pieces. (Keith Myers/The Kansas City Star) [How lovely.]

Fellow earthlings hang. Excited hearts now pump faintly their last drops of life as blood flows a river inside the abattoir. White-robed overlords oversee with heartless glee the demand the people place upon them.

Killing.

It’s what humans do. I get it, now.

The government gets it. Man, do they ever.

Hunters, anglers, trappers all get it, and they get it well.

Every flesh-eater gets it; they cause it, abnormally so, and to their liking.

The slaughterhouse business is a boom, and they get, and take it all the way to the bank, who gets it.

The prison system gets it, with itchy fingers can’t wait.

Cops and soldiers get it, they signed up to get it.

Kill. Kill. Kill, for fuck’s sake.

It’s everywhere, and it’s 24/7/365.25.

Killing.

No big deal, right? I get it.

But hey, let a news story break, a tragic accident, a natural catastrophe, shooting, people killed, animals hurt. An empathetic twinkle sparks inside an otherwise numb-skull, and suddenly the Androids get all emotional, teary eyed. Heartfelt.

Really?

What the hell?

Somebody got killed.

So what?

Who cares?

Nobody. That’s who.

After their obligatory sorrow drowns in its evanescent grief, everything’s hunky-dory. Enervated emotions are restored. Now back to the business of kill and let kill until the next spate of death hits the public airwaves. Then guess what? Suddenly sparked, fleeting superficialities ignite once again with an emasculated flare-up.

Why bother with silly transitory sentiment?

Killing.

It’s what humans do, by fuck. They KILL!

Rejoice!

Killing, a tradition we can’t live without, by participating within.

The Finale

Death of the Gravedigger Carlos Schwabe [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons
Death of the Gravedigger, by Carlos Schwabe ~ Public domain Wikimedia Commons

The Finale

The passage of time abbreviates
One year now 1/62
The next 1/63
Condensing into finale
The Finale, clearly

Amplifying abbreviations
Death loses her threat
Pain his menace
Love its callous
Relief edges nearly

A solitary sorrow
For lone suffering
Of those I borrow
Their fate I’ll no longer
Hold dearly

Thanksgiving 2016

Thanksgiving Grace

Thanksgiving 2016

Well damn, here we are my friends and family. And joining us again this year are Betty-Lu, Bubba-Joe, and ‘Lil Bubba-T. — Get that finger out of your nose boy, and pay attention. No! Don’t put that in your…too late.

As I was ’bout to say, here we are together again to celebrate yet another happy Turkey Day.

–What’s that ‘Lil Bubba-T? The turkey ain’t happy? No, I suspect she never was. But our bellies are ’bout to be.

Anyway, just shut-up and pay attention.

Now, again, as I was saying. It’s that time of year we offer our most humble gratitude to our Lord for bestowing our esteemed forefathers the grit needed to defeat them savage redskin occupiers of this our grate — sorry — I mean, great nation.

Now I ask Y’all. What better way to honor that genocidal season than to pluck from the flock a holy — damn, I mean wholly, innocent and vulnerable fowl, who having spent her entire life in wing-to-wing cramped and foul captivity only to have her innards yanked out her ass and thrown into the deep-fryer.

That reminds me.

Let’s thank the Almighty for the lesson we all learnt ’bout putting said frozen turkey into a kettle of hot boiling grease. By the way, Doc thinks Billy-Bob should be out of the coma and out of the hospital by this time next year. If all goes well. Say’s we should pray his ass grafts adhere to his face prim and proper like.

And speaking of praying, let’s all bow our heads and give our Maker a little spit of our appreciation. Shall we?

Thank you, Lord, for giving this here land of bilk and money, darn-it, I mean milk and honey to us white men, in Your image. And lead us not into– Oh shit! Football’s on. –Amen.

Bitch, fetch Bubba-Jo and me a Budweiser and bring one for ‘Lil Bubba-T so he can wash that taste out of his mouth.

And don’t forget them turkey legs!

America, Where Are You Now?

It doesn’t say who bombed the shelter. Even if it did, it would only be more finger pointing instead of fact. Misinformation and disinformation are the norms, and the USA may well be the leader in that arena.

What we do know is that America provokes and escalates violence and instability throughout the world and therefore is no less culpable.

The video has enlivened in me an emotion lying just beneath a thinning surface: America, where are you now?

The violence that America perpetrates in the name of national security is an elaborate hoax. Wars are the lifeblood of its burgeoning political-corporate-military-industrial complex.

War, as with the oppression of animals, many livelihoods depend on. And thus America has become addicted. A junkie strung out and unreasoned, convinced that war and animal flesh are both good and needed.

This never-ending violence angers me to never-ending.

I joined the USAF near the end of the Vietnam war, a confused young man. I stayed state-side, and so I don’t associate as a Vietnam vet, per se. Nonetheless, the stigma remains. However, the point I’d like to make is this, my final disillusionment in the people of a country I believed at one time desired peace.

Foolishly, I thought peace was the goal. And, I believed it attainable.

I saw the mass demonstrations during the Vietnam war. Young people fled to Canada. People burned their draft cards. Students protested, and four were gunned down at Kent State. The Ohio National Guard willfully turned its guns on unarmed, nonthreatening young American citizens and opened fire, a tragedy now nearly forgotten, known as the May 4 Massacre.

Inside me, I knew that once this war was over America would never fight another. Its people had had enough of war. Enough of sending their sons and daughters off to die in foreign lands. Enough of executing its citizens on the home ground.

Likewise, I knew that when people saw the brutal reality of animal agriculture veganism would become a wave that swept the entire world in compassion.

Was I ever wrong?

War protests are now a blemish on American history.

Animal enslavement has reached epidemic proportions.

The peace and love movement had died a silent, lonely death. Its aging hippies now very much defending the status quo. Trading bell-bottoms and paisley print for suit and tie. Peace for war.

To speak out against war is unpatriotic. To express discontent, the act of a traitor.

War is what we are; it defines us. Violence is what we do, daily in our lives, to the people, to the animals. It is on our plates, literally; and from there its escalation has no end.

And peace? Well, that’s just a word, a concept I can no longer believe in.

Although my bell-bottoms and paisley prints live only in the faded snapshots of an era long ago, I never have nor will I ever own a suit and tie. These are the garments worn by the representatives of Authority. They serve as a constant reminder of oppression and war.

As I write this, as relevant then as now, Steppenwolf’s, Monster, plays in the background and asks, “America, where are you now…Don’t you know we need you? We can’t fight alone against the monster.”

Freedom

Freedom
Image: PIA16909 by NASA; Font: Infected by AllencHIU cHIU

Freedom

I have a God; Her name is Freedom
She has children
Whose names are Vegan
Born to a Savage Planet
Bring sanity to a ruthless world
Mistake not their compassion for weakness
They are strong, courageous
With purpose
Fire kindles their Hearts
They are Vegan
They have a God; Her name is Freedom

Comparing Us to Animals?

The Animals
Image credit: Unknown. But whoever the artist, they did a mighty fine job. Kudos.

Us and Them, Let’s See

Who hasn’t heard numerous times before that, “You can’t compare humans to animals. That’s ridiculous.”

For example, you can’t compare the Jewish Holocaust with the animal holocaust or black slavery to the slavery of animals. Or, simply human suffering to animal suffering.

I agree, it’s preposterous.

It’s belittling.

No valid comparison can a rational person conjure.

What demented reasoning defies logic to suggest an identity between the two? Ha!

Double Ha!

What possible presentation could infer equality? Only, lunacy.

Who contests we have no equal? Who dare?

What animal, ever, in its existence, possessed the indispensable disposition to initiated a war. None! Damn you, I say, none.

What animal able of producing massive amounts of disposables to overload the landfills and fill the mighty oceans? Yes, only us, and us alone!

What animal ever invented machinery able to pollute the air, water, and land with such ease and indifference? The mere utterance, asinine.

What animal capable of creating genetically modified organisms, medicines, chemicals, and poisons able to sicken and disease every living organism? Oh phew!

What animal maliciously harms another? Rape? Murder? Steal? Lie? Cheat? Grab a pussy?

What other being commands such convoluted communication skills as to sow ambiguity and dubiety into every syllable? Bark, bark. Meow, meow. Moo, moo. Really?

What animal ever watched Jerry Springer?

What animal willingly surrenders their freedom to empower an Authoritarian Overlord? A government they bow to? And then willingly pays this Determining Absolute the fruit of their labors? Come-on.

What animal creates imaginary Gods to give license to injustice? Damn you; they have no such imaginings. Thank God.

Now, who fancies any animal even remotely capable of such atrocities as the Holocaust, or that of black slavery, or the genocide of whole native populations, or the extinctions of entire species, or animal agriculture? None!

How dare any dunderhead compare us to the animals. Idiots.

The Heartbeat

Boy feeding animals
Childish Wonder

The Heartbeat

Things change, in time–
Our lives.
Our reasons, our seasons.
Our friends and our pretends.
But our Heartbeat,
The Rhythm of Compassion,
coursing through our veins,
that Vibrant Vibration
of Empathy
a child brings to the world
remains the same.
One either has this,
or not.

As the world demonstrates time and again, I don’t believe compassion is acquired or learned; as its rivals indifference and heartlessness seems so easily won.

Compassion, therefore, must be the spirit a child born to, or they are not. While a child may lose their way in the course of indoctrination, the Heartbeat of Compassion remains with them, robust, though sequestered.

Why I Write

Loving mother and calf. Source Mercy for Animals http://www.mercyforanimals.org/
Loving Mother and Calf

Why I Write

I write for change.

I write to free the slaves.

I write to expose the criminals.

I write to protect the innocent.

I write to denounce the guilty.

I write to reveal cruelty.

I write for the voiceless.

I write for freedom.

I write for peace.

I write as though all the world is reading.

As if, all the world cared.

Animal Welfare

Mauritius 2013. Source: Animals Australia http://www.animalsaustralia.org/
Mauritius 2013. Source: AnimalsAustralia.org (an Animal Welfarist organization). Here we have a helpless bull, frightened and confused, guilty of no crime against humanity, held prisoner awaiting execution, tied tightly around the neck, strapped firmly and unmovingly to the rocky ground. This is Animal Welfare, at it’s very best. It is, unacceptable, at the very least.

Animal Welfare, the Diabolical White Angel

Animal Welfare, is not Animal Rights. There is a chasm between the two. Unbridgeable by any thinking person. One is acceptable cruelty; the other is unacceptable slavery.

Welfare is not Rights, no matter how you slice them.

Animal Welfarist, however, would have you believe animals gleefully wander into those peacefully humane slaughterhouses, relaxingly laying down to soft music, willing giving up their lives, for you.

Such altruism is phenomenal. Imagine it, if you can – Douglas Adams’s cow that wants to be eaten.[1]

Larry V on Twitter recently posted, “Animals go into the slaughterhouse alive & come out chopped into pieces & people like to think something humane happens along the way.

Thank you, Larry.

As with everything else the elite and powerful wish us to believe; as with all forms of slavery they unmercifully capitalize on and market to the gullible masses, this too is a lie. One of monumental cruelty.

So incredibly powerful is the sway of their indoctrination over the willing, that they so easily justify their selfish desires, their barbaric traditions they resolutely cling to in the name of God and custom.

Animal Welfarist have, to some significant extent, infiltrated the Animal Rights movement. They do, after all, have all the money and all resources at their disposal to promote their posh livelihood posing as humane revolutionaries.

They are not.

Don’t be fooled.

I’m reminded by what Theodore Kaczynski a.k.a. The Unabomber, wrote in his book, “Technological Slavery,” Where he writes:

“…the people who extinguish revolutionary movements are the people who are drawn indiscriminately to causes: racism, sexism, gay rights, animal rights, the environment, poverty, sweatshops, neocolonialism…it’s all the same to them. These people constitute a subculture that has been labeled “the adversary culture.” Whenever a movement of resistance begins to emerge, these lefties…come swarming to it like flies on honey until they outnumber the original members of the movement, take it over, and turn it into just another leftist faction, thereby emasculating it.”

Be wary The Adversary Culture, Animal Welfare.

[1] Thank you, BillZiegler1947.com, for your astute article that links to Douglas Adams’ Cow.