A n i m a l W r i t e s © sm
The official ANIMAL
RIGHTS ONLINE newsletter
Publisher ~ EnglandGal@aol.com
Issue # 10/04/00
Editor ~ JJswans@aol.com
Journalists ~ Park StRanger@aol.com
~
MicheleARivera@aol.com
~ SavingLife@aol.com
Layout ~ Corrynthia@aol.com
THE SEVEN ARTICLES IN THIS ISSUE ARE:
1 ~ Rage and Reason by Michael Tobias
2 ~ The Other Victims of Puppy Mills by G. Kerry
3 ~ Will There Be A New Olympian Milk Mustache Ad? from Robert
Cohen
4 ~ Shocking Details of Alien Civilization! by Tim Robinson
5 ~ Feline Health Alert: Liquid Potpourri May Be Hazardous to Your
Cat
from ASPCA news-alert
6 ~ Poem: If Only They Knew? by Colleen Ferro
7 ~ Quote to Remember: Groucho Marx
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Rage and Reason
by Michael Tobias
submitted by Onion hed2@aol.com
To pretend to speak about environmentalism
without positing and acting upon our commitment to humanity's ethical
obligations, would be akin to whining during World War II about an
"environmentally suspect Third Reich," without any mention, or effort
to save, the victims of the Holocaust. To gloss over the greatest tragedy
ever perpetrated by one species in the biological history of Earth, namely,
mankind's arrogant and unchallenged obliteration of most other life forms -
meat eating being the most sustained, calculating, widespread, and heartless
form of such violence - strikes this reader as monstrously ignorant, and
self-serving.
Ignorance masks its intolerance, self-interest, and callousness with the tired
logic of abusive millennia; a logic now appropriated by those among you who
would dare to call yourselves environmentalists.
There can be no environmental consciousness, no lasting solution to the
ecological mayhem all around us, without an ethical core of intention.
There is no disputing the fact that species are vanishing at an incalculable
rate; that animals universally are under siege, the human motives for such
carnage too numerous to diagnose. Given what we know about the declining
numbers of most animal species, how can any thinking, feeling person subscribe
to meat eating?
It all boils down to greed, stupidity, and laziness on the part of those of you
who would argue that meat eating and environmentalism are compatible
impulses. They are not. Meat eating is a function of the taste
buds, which can be controlled. Evolution does not condemn us. Our
choices condemn us. There is no residual biology in our gut that compels
us to kill the neighborhood grocer for our meal, any more than it demands the
slaughter of the innocent. Meat is not an addicting chemical. We
have the power to rise above it, even if a few other species do not. But
keep in mind that 98% of all energy transfer on Earth comes about as the result
of herbivorous appetites, not meat eating.
Once you are truly aware of this, you will remain aware, because it has become
your self-awareness, your ethical uniqueness in a world of tumultuous
change. You do not forget how to ride a bicycle. You do not forget
that the destruction of the rain forest, the coral reefs and estuaries, the
bat, is a calamity; or that nuclear war is the end.
To argue that bunches of cauliflower are just as helpless and sensitive to pain
as a turkey may or may not be true. There's no question that every living
organism feels pain. But the argument - with all of its yet to be learned
revelations - has been perverted by those who would use it to invalidate all
distinctions between plants and animals, so as to justify the killing of
EVERYTHING! If we are to survive, we must minimize violence: taking
concerted steps, day by day, like alcoholics on the mend, to reverse the
murderer in man. There is no other way.
Meat eaters do not acknowledge that murderer in man, this planetary calamity,
because no law exists, no legislative or juridical opinion has ever been set
down in this country that would tamper with their daily bullying of animals, or
prejudice those men against killing for their dinner. America - and most
cultures - look with pride to the hunter, exult in his efficiency and
resourcefulness. Goaded by popular opinion, uncurtailed in his bloodlust,
the meat eater had every bulwark, the sheer magnitude of other meat eaters, to
support him; to go on and on defending the butchery, in blissful ignorance of
the billions of animals who suffer and perish continually, every second of every
day and night. Those men, and women, and young persons who kill are the
most inhuman of all animals. To suggest that because other animals kill,
humans can do so with a free conscience is to deny the magical purpose and raison
d'être of conscience in the first place. We are shepherds, we know
better; some would even argue that we are the front-runners of animal
evolution. If that is true, then we are responsible for setting a pattern
on Earth that is tempered and wise and gentle. Meat eating is utterly
unrestrained; an ecological, medical, and spiritual disaster for
everyone. It was in recognition of this once too obvious credo, that the
Bible clearly stated, "Thou Shalt Not Kill." Period. No
ifs, ands, or buts.
Meat eating is about killing animals, not simply eating meat; killing in
proportions that no one can begin to gauge or comprehend. The killing of
docile innocent animals whose throats are sliced open in matter-of-fact
assembly lines, while their bodies dangle and writhe from steel snares and
claws, and the weight of their terrified lungs and hearts asphyxiate them, as
the butchers, swaying to the heavy metal melodies of their headsets, slice and
pulverize and gore, puncture and boil them alive, often missing with their
hatchets and hacksaws before finally doing in the animals with lumberjack
hydroclippers of every size and shape and razor sharpness. The
unimaginable conditions, the putrid lakes of deep and despondent blood, wasted
life, mountains of hideous pain and wretched brutality, disappear at the
air-conditioned grocery stores and hygienically preserved meat counters; and
vanish within the elegant bottles and fancy containers. So that America,
the beleaguered, prides itself on environmental protocols, and Earth Days and ecological
hand-wringing, and scientific bandstanding, while suffering souls all around us
are cast cruelly to an oblivion that makes Hell seem more agreeable.
You think the above killing grounds are justified so as to continue the habit
of meat? Then prove it; do what the poet Percy Shelley recommended, and
then, only then, may you judge yourself on the level of other, non-human
predators:
"Let the advocate of animal food force himself to a decisive experiment
on its fitness...tear a living lamb with his teeth, and plunging his head into
its vitals, slake his thirst with the steaming blood; when fresh from the deed
of horror let him revert to the irresistible instincts of nature that would
rise in judgment against it, and say, Nature formed me for such work as this.
Then, and then only, would he be consistent." *
* A vindication of Natural Diet in Percy Shelley, Selected Poetry, Prose
and Letters (ed., A. S.B.Glover), [Nonesuch : London, 1951] pages 900-913
There can be no environmentalism without a thoroughly unambiguous belief in the
preciousness, the importance, the fragility of life on Earth.
Meat eating spits in the face of that belief system, countering caution and
self-restraint with gluttony, and a mockery of all that the life force has
achieved, in four and half billion years of biological aspiration.
As children of nature, endowed with a heart, a conscience and a brain, we ought
to know better; we cannot continue the charade of supposedly caring about the
planet, while turning our back on an estimated seven billion mammals and avians
condemned to being eaten every year, in the United States alone. The
numbers on an international scale have never been calculated but they surely
amount to tens of billions of animals. Just one fast food chain, among many,
boasts, on its billboards, of having sold nearly thirty-billion hamburger
patties.
And it goes on.
For these, and many, many, other reasons, I will never take an environmentalist
- or any human being for that matter - seriously, who, knowing all this
continues to eat meat.
"No light, but rather darkness visible, served only to discover sights
of woe, Regions of sorrow, doleful shades, where peace and rest can never
dwell, hope never comes. That comes to
all; but torture without end..."
-Paradise Lost
There is nothing so pitiful and helpless in all the world, as a one thousand
pound, bewildered cow strung upside down by a shackle on its ankle, bellowing,
clawing clumsily for life, trying by all of its unpracticed instincts to find
its friends, to ward off the death he knows is coming. A blood splattered
wall to his right, a little human killer with an unreachable mind, unreachable
heart, to his left; surrounded by bayonets, knives, shotguns, air guns,
electric captive bolt applicators. How to become that cow?
Frightened, in agony, no one to hear it, the cruciate ligaments of its knees
rupturing, the fetlock and hip joints dislocating, the skin being peeled off
while he still clings to every final breath, blood pouring out of his nostrils,
covering his eyes, pain burning like the fires of the sun until darkness
descends with a quick splutter of weakening surmise. And the lights have
gone out forever. Who can ever answer to the feeble ferocity of a cow's
final bellowing query: Why?
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The Other Victims of Puppy
Mills
Puppies are not the only victims of puppy mills, my story.
by G. Kerry
Submitted by DogAdvocat@aol.com
I fell in love with a beautiful little teddy bear
of a puppy the instant I set eyes on her and she let me know that the feelings
were mutual. I knew nothing about puppies, the Keeshond breed or puppy
mills. I only knew I had to have this adorable little bundle.
She became the joy of my life and a delight to my soul and somehow we both
survived her puppy hood. We were inseparable and the bond between us deepened
each day. I soon learned that a Keeshond is a thinking being with a keen sense
of humor and fair play.
The first time I tossed a ball for her to chase she ran after it and brought it
back to me, also the second time. But the third time she didn't give me the
ball, she just looked me in the eye, gave her head a toss throwing the ball
across the yard then looked at me expectantly. I understood the message and
dutifully ran, laughing all the way across the yard to retrieve the ball.
I guess that was my first "obedience lesson" in taking turns and fair
play. I must have passed the test because I got a great big laughing Keesie
grin and some tender licks as my reward. I would play little jokes on her and
she would play little jokes on me, often amazing me with the uniqueness of the
things she would think up. She never ceased to amaze me and I could never look
at her without thinking, how beautiful and intelligent she was. The very sight
of her lifted my spirits and inspired me. We ate together and slept together,
when I showered she would come nosing in through the curtain and join me, when
I soaked in a tub full of bubbles she couldn't resist jumping in. When we hiked
through the woods and streams together she would never let me out of her sight.
At the ocean we would chase seagulls and splash in the water together. She was
always happy to help me dig holes in the garden and I would help her chase
lizards and other critters
and dig in the gopher holes. We had such wonderfully happy times together and I
loved her with all my heart and soul.
Little did I know she was a ticking time bomb of sorrow, pain and anguish for
the both of us, through no fault of her own or mine. She had been born to
suffer and bring grief by an insensitive, greedy puppymiller whose only concern
was mass producing puppies for profit. These degenerates don't care if they
reproduce puppies with genetic disorders, heart and immune system disorders,
allergy and skin problems or any other inherited defect. They don't care about
the future health of the puppies or the devastation they will cause in the
lives of the people who love them. They over breed indiscriminately, as often
as they can with as little cash output as possible for food and housing, in
unimaginable filthy conditions and without veterinary care or loving attention.
My little partner began with allergies, then skin problems, heart problems
followed. I sold my antique bellows organ to pay the vet bill and buy her
prescriptions. There were times she
would seem to get better, then she would get worse and I would have to
lift her up and carry her outside to go for a ride or make a puddle. Her liver and kidneys began to function
poorly, she retained water and couldn't make a puddle. Back to the vet, more
tests, more medication. I sold my piano to pay for it all, to buy her a
little more time. I called university research centers and talked to some very
kindly researchers who shared any new information they had with me on her
problems and I tried it all. It was hell, she was suffering and I was doing all
that I could find out to do and it wasn't enough. I sold my wedding rings to
pay the vet and prescriptions and buy a special concentrated diet that I had to
put down her throat with a syringe when she stopped eating. After three years
of nursing and caring for her, of hoping and praying for a miracle I finally
realized it was time, time to make "that terrible decision." She
couldn't eat or drink, she couldn't walk, run or play. She couldn't do any of
the fun things she so dearly loved to do, she was suffering and she had lost
her wonderful laughing Keesie grin. I was physically, emotionally and
financially exhausted.
With my heart breaking, sobbing uncontrollably, I called the vet and made the
appointment for three days later in the afternoon just before closing. For the
next three days I would carry her out to the truck and lay her on a cushion
where she could see out of the window. I would drive up the dirt roads through
the woods at 5 miles per hour all day, to all the places where we had shared so
many happy hours together. She rested her chin on the open window sill and
watched intently as we drove. She had always enjoyed riding along like this,
woofing at deer and squirrels when we saw them. She seemed to enjoy the scenery
now but only pricked up her ears at the sight of a squirrel with no woofing
request to stop and let her chase it up a tree.
On the last day, my face streaming with tears, I told her about my own near
death experience, how beautiful and wonderful it was on the other side where
she would be a puppy again without any pain or suffering. When we arrived at
the veterinary office I apologized for my selfishness in not letting her go
sooner asked her to forgive me and wait for me on the other side. She looked at
me with the most intense look of understanding, gave me a tender lick and laid
her face in my hand.
Tell me puppy millers, was your $25 profit worth it?
G Kerry (c) 9/19/2000
Permission to crosspost was granted by her. If you print or crosspost,
be certain to include the author's name and copyright information.
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Will There Be A New
Olympian Milk Mustache Ad?
from Robert Cohen - i4crob@idt.net
Does anybody doubt that Americans will be coming
back from Australia with sour cream and vanilla ice cream (the dairy industry
milkstache formula) applied to their upper lips?
The premier candidate for a milkstache will be Marion Jones, the sprinter/long
jumper who continues to strike Olympic Gold. She has already won two
Olympic gold medals, and has three more in her sights.
Problem is, Marion's name has been tainted by her husband's association with
steroid hormones. American shot putter CJ Hunter is married to Marion.
This man could substitute for the entire offensive line of the Green Bay
Packers - that's how big he is. Unfortunately, he is not competing in
this summer's Olympics because his enormous bulk was artificially constructed
with the help of a banned steroid hormone, nandrolone.
That won't stop the dairy industry from rewarding Jones. Dairy marketing
geniuses consider drug use to be an asset, having previously painted a
milk mustache on home run champ, Mark McGwire. History repeats
itself. Another shot putter (world-record holder Randy Barnes) will never
again compete, having been barred for life for having used the same drug as
McGwire (androstenodione).
ATHLETES TAKE IGF-I
Those who take insulin-like growth factor (IGF-I) will not be caught at this
summer's Olympics. Athletes: Beware! The technology exists to
test fat molecules and reveal those who have taken the powerful genetically
engineered growth hormone. One day, there may not be an Olympics.
It is a not-so closely guarded secret that weight lifters, sprinters, swimmers,
and athletes from all nations and events are using the protein hormone, IGF-I.
They use it in the belief that it cannot be detected. They will certainly
all one day be in for a surprise. Two Cornell University scientists have
received a patent for a test that detects subtle changes in fat molecules after
IGF-I treatment.
ATHLETES SAY THE DARNDEST THINGS
U.S. shot putter C.J. Hunter, better known as "that big guy" who is
married to Marion Jones, decided to skip this year's Summer Olympics because of
a knee injury. IOC officials say he tested positive for nandrolone during
the summer. C.J. blames a dietary supplement for the positive test.
Andris Reinholds, a rower from Latvia also tested positive for nandrolone, a
banned steroid hormone. He was sent home from the Olympics on
Saturday. Reinholds blames his positive test on a Chinese herbal
medicine.
German long distance runner Dieter Baumann, a German runner, won a gold medal
in the 5,000 meters at Barcelona. He recently was banned from this year's
Olympics after testing positive for nandrolone. Dieter claims that his toothpaste
was spiked.
Robin Lyons, a Canadian hammer-thrower, also tested positive for
nandrolone. He blamed a diet
supplement. Indeed.
Runner Simon Combo of Kenya, cyclist Neil Campbell of Britain, long jumper Iva
Prandzheva of Bulgaria, sprinter Linford Christie of Britain, runners Doug
Walker and Mark Richardson of Britain, sprinter Merlene Ottey of Jamaica, all
tested positive for nandrolone.
CAN YOU DIG IT?
That's the favorite quotable from new Olympic heroine, Marion Jones, who (rumor
has it) will soon be the newest member of a long list of dairy industry
milkstache wearers.
Millions of dollars in endorsements await our newest athletic darling, and
one hopes that Marion does not share the same fate as yesteryear's Olympic
hero, Florence Griffith Joyner (Flo Jo).
Flo Jo wore a milk mustache and died with 250 cc of undigested food in her
stomach containing flecks of cheese. She ate her last pizza at 3PM and
died at 6AM, 15 hours later. Her body organs were acutely congested with
mucous and Flo Jo could not breathe. GOT ASTHMA? Asthma rates
continue to soar in the African American community and Marion Jones' milkstache
ad will betray the children who see her as a hero.
Is it too late to ask Marion not to do it? The $25,000 paid by the National
Fluid Milk Processors for this ad will be a drop in the bucket compared to the
millions of dollars in endorsement fees awaiting her.
Contact Marion's agent: Charles Wells of Vector Sports Management:
817-337-4494 (extension 13). vectorsm@aol.com
http://www.notmilk.com
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Shocking Details of Alien
Civilization!
by Tim Robinson - icon@zip.com.au
Before going any further, I must warn readers
that the material contained in this article is not for the faint-hearted, and
many may find it highly disturbing.
It concerns reports and communications I have received from higher
sources. These reports concern an alien
civilization that perpetuates sinister and barbaric practices against beings on
their own planet. It has been a solemn reminder to me, that although there are
many loving beings in the universe, there are also many who do not respect life
and are plainly deceitful and sadistic, and not to be trusted.
I cannot elaborate on the source of my material. Hopefully, readers will feel
the truth behind my words, and use their own discretion to understand what they
can.
The first reports came to me approximately 4 years ago. My 'source' began
describing this civilization to me in horrific detail. I will attempt to bring
words to describe my memory of this discourse. It began with a description of
the ruling class on the planet. Their history is littered with cruel and
inhumane acts, so I suppose with that in mind, their present-day situation is
hardly surprising. The ruling class have many sympathizers to the down-trodden,
yet the uncaring greatly outnumber them, so their voice is hardly heard.
There is one section of society who are treated so despicably I grimace at the
thought. This group are imprisoned, and the ruling class are impervious and
ignorant to their cries of pity and distress. They beg for pity and for a
release from their torment, to be allowed to live their lives as they see fit
and not be shackled and imprisoned against their will. Their prison cells are
so small, they cannot even turn around and they never feel the warmth of their
planet's sun on their bodies. Yet, the ruling class do not care for them and
are disdainful of the cries. But this is not the most horrifying aspect of this
cruelty.
The poor imprisoned souls have one final indignity to suffer. They are killed
for the tables of the ruling class. They have no dignity even in death. They
live miserable lives only to end up as food for the ruling class. Each
individual is forgotten and simply looked upon as a lower species. The cruelty
and lack of compassion is intolerable. I thanked God that our world is safe
from this treachery.
Actually -- if the truth be known -- I am indeed talking of our world.
The "sub-class beings" I described are animals. If you were horrified
that this could happen on another planet, be horrified even more that it
happens on your own. The animals I described are those who are intensively or
"factory farmed." It is true
that most are kept in stalls so narrow that they can't turn around. It is also
true that many never see the sun. Some are chained to the walls or floors of
their enclosure for the duration of their lives. They are artificially
inseminated and they must suckle their young through the bars of the stall
until they are cruelly taken away after a short time.
If we truly are a caring species, then our compassion must extend to the other
sentient beings who inhabit our planet.
Battery hens are kept in tiny cages and can't even spread their wings. They are
often debeaked, as chicks, with a hot wire guillotine. Cattle are kept in
feedlots where there is no room for them to graze and they cannot walk to a
pond to drink or shade themselves under a tree. Pigs suffer in the most
appalling conditions to satisfy the bellies of humans. Millions of animals are
slaughtered every day for our food, for our clothing, for our
"entertainment," or for scientific research.
Please know with certainty that there has never been any major scientific
advances achieved through testing on animals. There ARE alternatives to wearing
animal by-products, and you WON'T die if you do not eat your 'meat'.
There are many famous vegetarians including Leonardo da Vinci,
Plato, Pythagoras, Albert Einstein, Albert Schweitzer, Percy Bysse
Shelley, George Bernard Shaw... the list goes on and on.
There are also world-champion athletes, runners, triathletes, body-builders,
and power lifters who insist on a vegetarian diet. Not only will you not die if
you give up meat eating, you will find that you feel MUCH better. There's a
wonderful lightness of being and you will find that all of your bodily
functions will improve.
We all want a world with less strife and more compassion. Please, let's begin
that compassion in the kitchen.
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Feline Health Alert:
Liquid Potpourri May Be
Hazardous to Your Cat
from ASPCA news-alert - news-alert@list.aspca.org
Potpourri
oil is used every day in homes across the country--but few pet owners are aware
that this popular household fragrance can be dangerous to cats if ingested.
"Most potpourri liquids contain natural or essential oils, which can cause
vomiting, upset stomach, diarrhea, weakness and possibly liver damage,"
cautions Jill A. Richardson, DVM, of the ASPCA National Animal Poison Control
Center. Some products can also burn the mouth and tongue. And should the liquid
get in the cat's eyes or on the skin, the pain can be severe.
In most cases of potpourri toxicity treated through the NAPCC's 24-hour
emergency hotline--1-888-4-ANI-HELP--cats were exposed by either rubbing
against leaky bottles or pots containing the oil or by spilling it onto
themselves. Instinctively, many cats
tried to groom themselves, thereby ingesting the potpourri.
"Fortunately," says Richardson, "with proper treatment and good
supportive care--which may include veterinary-prescribed use of
gastrointestinal protectants, antibiotics and pain killers--most cats recover
within a few days."
The Center's licensed veterinarians and board-certified veterinary
toxicologists have been available since 1978 to advise animal owners and confer
with veterinarians.
For more information, visit:
http://www.napcc.aspca.org/
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If Only They Knew?
by Colleen Ferro
from Yyavegan@aol.com
As I look across the table
at the steak upon your plate,
I can't begin to tell you
How my heart begins to ache.
The empathy wells up in me
The visions of pain and fear.
I hear the pitiful bellowing
cow so loudly in my ear.
I look across the table and
I think "If they only knew."
Then sorrow overwhelms me
as I realize "They already do!"
by Colleen Ferro 4/1/00
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Quote to Remember
"Outside
of a dog, a book is probably man's best friend, and inside of a dog, it's too
dark to read."
--
Groucho Marx
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Susan Roghair - EnglandGal@aol.com
Animal Rights Online
P O Box 7053
Tampa, Fl 33673-7053
http://www.geocities.com/RainForest/1395/
-=Animal Rights Online=-
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