Thursday, February 16, 2006

Onward Macho Killers

Two posts on hunting. This one by James Wolcott on Cheney's style of rich man's killing spree:

"This line of talk reveals a strange, even warped vision of authentic Americanism - one that ignores the fact that the huge majority of Americans live in cities or subdivisions, and hunt only for bargains on Playstations, flat screen TV's, and gasoline.

"It also gives a style of hunting that can charitably be described as shooting fish in a barrel with fine Italian shotguns far more old-fashioned American macho credit than it deserves, as if wealthy hunters driving Hummers around a private ranch to blast away at cage-raised 'prey' hold any fair comparison at all with the kind of tough, ready men of the outdoors..."

Rich guys pretending to be Jeremiah Johnson is one of the many fascimile editions of rawhide authenticity being successfully peddled in the media with no one willing to stop and say that inflicting unnecessary pain and suffering on animals should be a source of sin and shame, and that the decent thing to do would be to break Cheney's shotgun in two before anyone or anything else is harmed by his buffoonery.

And this one, courtesy of Cleek:

What got me thinking, though, was this: yes, I've done all that: I know all about guns and gun safety, hunting and being a big macho slayer of smaller animals. But these days I have zero interest in doing it again. I no longer think of the animals that I used to shoot as little animated targets; I realize that they have their lives to live, just as I have mine. That they don't know how to speak or type an email doesn't give me the moral authority to kill them as a way to boost and soothe my own ego. I'd rather feed squirrels and birds then kill them. I have absolutely no interest in killing a deer or a bear. And if ever offered, I'll politely decline the chance to shoot farm-raised birds. Yes, I'm sure it's a great challenge to hit a fast-moving bird from 100 feet, and I'm sure the VP takes great pride in the accomplishment; but beyond a test of hand-eye coordination that I can duplicate with a copy of Half Life 2, the point of killing birds eludes me. I don't need to stand on a pile of little corpses to feel like a man.

Those are my sentiments exactly. Some humans, on the other hand, are desperately in need of killin' and I would have no qualms about fulfilling that need.

On second thought, in the spirit of compassion for all living things, a coupla .44 Specials in the kneecaps would be much better.

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