#108 - You and I

Today’s words: Pigeon, China, Satan, Scallop

Word count: 250

Completion time: 23 minutes

--

Why do we torment and criticise other animals

For being inferior? Looking at the world through different eyes,

See, they aren’t like you and I, they don’t feel like we feel

Their pain isn’t recognised, who cares if they die?

People screw their faces up, at little pups in China

Who get served alongside a variety of food.

Not to be rude, but I’m over the line of thought

That is shocked and appalled by yet another animal...

Yet another innocent life we carve up with knives

And say it’s alright, it’s justified, because

They don’t feel like you and I.



A pigeon was sat on a bench the other day

And someone kicked it away like it could contaminate,

Like it would be great if they could be cast away

Like Satan from the heavens. Why?

They didn’t disobey but they have no say because why?

They can’t speak like you and I?

Judge like you and I?



We don’t need to buy something to think that we own it

No cash needs to change hands to know we can have it

The scallops on the beach, the ocean deep

Everything we see, we claim just by looking.

We take parts of the world and reduce them to nothing

Just by looking

I look to you and see myself reflected right back

We’re on the attack, you and I

We don’t give a fuck, you and I

It’s in our nature to rely

On things that can’t fight back.

#97 - Compa$$ion

Today’s words: Care, Show, Year, Gifted

Word count: 304

Completion time: 17 minutes

Summary: What does it mean to be truly compassionate?

--

I realised not too long after I became an adult that people enjoy doing things to come across as good people, when really, they’re just pretending.

By tricking compassionate people into thinking they give a shit, they can make friends, but most importantly, they can make a profit. How much does faux compassion cost? They ask, picking up the tag between their fingers and turning it over.

“Let me show you,” they grin, “let me show you how much I care about the animals that I raise for slaughter, let me show you how humane it all is. If I show you, you’ll see, you’ll understand, you’ll get it.”

I see sheep running around a field, chickens let out of cages, cows grazing all day. I feel great. I photocopy the man’s smile from the TV and paste it onto my face, leaving it there for the duration of the advert.

But, why isn’t the death shown, too? That’s a part of the process, that’s what it’s all leading up to. Without death, this ‘humane’ treatment would be worthless.

I guess the most important bit doesn’t matter.

Farmer of the year.

You see, these people are gifted. The gift? Being able to pass bullshit off as chocolate that will melt in whoever’s mouth they please. Butter wouldn’t melt, but chocolate will. That’s a great gift.

Shit disguised as truffles, shit disguised as caramel swirls, shit disguised as strawberry crèmes, shit disguised...captivity, death, disguised as humane practice. Dressed to the head in gold ribbon and silver foil.

Everyone will scramble to open this present, this carefully wrapped tasty treat.

Eat

Eat

Eat

But as they do, they’ll close their eyes and pretend that no animals were harmed in the production of this gift.

They offered it to us.

They wanted to die.

And that’s fine.

#96 - Little Piggy

Today’s words: Market, Join, Minimize, Specialize

Word count: 106

Completion time: 5 minutes



--



As kids, the little pigs are always going to market

But we don’t know why

As adults, the pigs are still going to market

This time we know why



We just don’t care



If we could join these pigs on their journey

Be there to bear witness to their shortened lives

Would we still sing nursery rhymes about these dark times?



The little piggy isn’t going to market to buy food

He’s going to market because he is food



We need more people to specialize and end, not minimize, these animals’ pain

So that never again will we be fed at the expense of the dead

#37 - The Fate

Today’s words: Distribute, Homely, Tend, Bucolical

Word count: 578

Completion time: 1 hour 15 mins

Summary: Sometimes it’s impossible to escape your fate, but does that justify it?

~

My home life is the definition of bucolical – I live on my parents’ farm, the closest neighbour is a half hour’s walk away, and the beautiful green countryside rolls out for miles. It can be a little restrictive, but it’s homely. 

I’ve only been to London once, but it was my first and last. I was painfully overwhelmed: it was hard to walk without bumping into people, the air felt dank and dirty, and outside tube stations, people in yellow jackets would distribute newspapers...well, I say ‘distribute’, but it was more like slapping them at your chest and urging you to take one lest you be taken to an alley and stabbed; that’s what I heard happens (it’s probably a myth). So what I’m trying to say is – country life suited me just fine; I relished my time alone.

The downside about living on a farm is that I have to get up early every day to help out, but that didn’t compare to watching what the animals went through. My best friends were all eventually killed for food or when they were no longer profitable. I falsely convinced myself that maybe it’ll be different, maybe they’ll let me keep my 1000^th best friend this time. I shouldn’t have formed a bond with them in the first place, but you can’t prevent love (I’ve tried).

Each time I’d tend the animals, I’d whisper into their fluffy or feathered ears that it was all going to be okay, that it didn’t matter what happened because I loved each and every one of them. That was just a lie I told myself to feel better.

“It’s a business, Clara, we can’t keep these animals. They need to be reared for their produce or sold.  You want to be able to eat, right? Anyway, you’d better wash your face and look presentable, I’ve arranged for you to meet with that young lad from the farm across the way. He’s a good boy, so make sure you get along.”

I suppose I was like the animals, too – brought up to be a nice little girl so that a farmer’s son would find me charming enough to marry. I’m surprised my parents went through the trouble of naming me.

One day I decided to challenge our system, so I went to my mother who was topping up the chicken feed...

“Hey, mum?”

She answered without turning around. “Yes, pet?”

“Is it okay if we kill your dog and eat him once he’s plump enough?”

She dropped the feed, whipped her head around and looked at me like I’d just summoned Satan and asked her to be the first sacrifice. “What in the blue hell are you saying??”

“I just mean, if we’re ever low on food...”

She gained on me, eyes blazing. “How could you say such a thing, are you ill?? Did you speak to one of the town folk?? We’re not Chinese, how dare you even insinuate eating Clarence! I’ve a right mind to slap you in the head, you wicked child!”

I jumped. I should have been scared but instead, I was confused; why was she so mad when it came to the dog? “I’m sorry...I don’t know what got into me.” She stared at me, more confused and terrified than I probably looked. “...You want the roast chicken for dinner, is that right?”

Her face softened a little. “Yes,” she turned back to the chickens. “Put the oven on.”