What I mean is, I've always wanted to eat cat.
I don't know why. Maybe it's because I suspect I've already eaten my fair share (along with everyone else who eats Chinese take-out). Maybe it's because cats are little assholes who think they're sooooo much better than everyone else.
I don't know why. But I really want to eat one.
Quick! Go look in the mirror. You see that look of disgust and outrage on your face? That's called "hypocrisy." Say it with me now: heh-pah-crahssy.
That's right, say it with a Boston accent.
Tell me, what's the difference between cats, cows, chickens, horses, pigs, and dogs?
"Well, um, some of them are pets and others are, well, food?"
Correct! Now let's talk about what they all have in common:
- They're all animals;
- They're all domesticated;
- They all have the capacity for pleasure and plain, fear and joy, even affection; and
- They all taste delicious.
The reason is that we've spent generations developing emotional attachments to some animals while eating the others.
We're like, "Hey, you see those animals there? Treat 'em like shit, then kill 'em so I can stuff my face with bacon and steak. But those ones over there? I like to cuddle and take cute pictures with 'em, so they're off limits."
In some cultures it's downright weird to own pets. In some cultures keeping dogs, cats, guinea pigs, and other critters in the house is as weird as having a pet chicken in your living room or a pet cow on a leash.
You know they eat guinea pig in Peru? It's a delicacy. You get to pick it out yourself! The cuter the guinea pig, the tastier it is. Or so they say.
And then there's a dog festival in southern China. Sorry, that's dog eating festival.
Let's abandon arbitrary distinctions between "pet" and "dinner."
Let's stop being so hypocritical.
For years now your precious little pussy got to enjoy Fancy Feast and catnip and snuggling on the couch while you watch reality TV. If I BBQ the little fur-ball tonight at least it had a good life.
Which is a lot more than we can say about last night's roast.
It got stuffed (literally) full of food it doesn't like just so it would make that lovely sizzling sound while on the grill.
It lived shoulder to shoulder with its neighbour, never seeing the light of day.
It got pumped full of chemicals and antibiotics and then died so we could eat.
Meanwhile we have no-kill shelters crammed full of cats and dogs who can't find loving homes. We have deer running out into the street and endangering motorists.
But suggest a deer cull and people get all up in arms. Suggest that shelters serve orphaned kitties to the homeless (and anyone else who wants to dine on feline) and people throw up in their mouth a little.
Fuck your cat. Seriously. It's food. Not my fault you fell in love with it.
And if it ever comes down to you or him, guess what? You'll eat that little fucker in a heartbeat.
So let's stop pretending we care so much about the animals, okay? We might get pissed about trophy hunting or animal abuse but we don't really care. If we did we'd be up in arms about the inhumane treatment of livestock. We'd boycott factory farms right now, march and protest until governments enacted laws mandating the humane treatment of cattle, chickens, and all those other living creatures we call "dinner."
As it stands we're selective about which animals we care about. And by selective, I mean hypocritical.
|Look at the happy cow!|
So until we can be honest about our role in the needless suffering of animals worldwide I'm going to keep fighting for my right to eat your pussy.