Nobody in the chattering classes, nor bloggers, nor rantings on social media discussed what I saw in the debates. I saw the juxtaposition between two mutually exclusive ways of being. One player presented accomplishments and challenges as an adult, inherently accepting the burdens and joys and loss and accomplishments such a life entails. The other side proposed a simpler, partially imagined, childlike way of being; almost a regression.
It terrified me.
Could there be a worse fate? To renounce the burdens of self-responsibility is to become a lesser person. I don’t want to be livestock on a vote farm!
Am I alone? Did anyone else sense this? Listen hard to the sales pitch from both sides. See if you pick up on the vibe.
Eventually, I found myself sitting on my tailgate talking to my pigs. I’d gone out to toss them a treat. Mrs. Curmudgeon had made apple pie and the pigs were in ecstasy munching on the peelings.
A word about pigs. They’re awesome. You may be thinking of fat retards in some factory farm but my pigs are healthy and athletic. They’re clever buggers; curious, smart, inquisitive. They have personalities. They’re fairly agreeable. In their youth they were escape artists but I could lead them home like the Pied Piper. They like me.
They should like me. I treat them well. I constructed a pen that’s absolutely massive for just the three of them. I bring them treats. When I call they come running. They enjoy all sorts of food; French fries, burritos, pizza, corn on the cob. Plus, a well-balanced corn and wheat diet that’s probably better than most humans ate until very recently in history. They get plenty of fresh water, a great place to hang out, sometimes I’ll toss in a log so they have something to play with. Yes, they play with toys. They’re smarter than your dog.
They’re fun. They’re tame. They’re good natured. I can pet them. They’re better company than most humans. I raised them from piglets.
In a couple of weeks, I’m going to roll a trailer into their pen. I’ll toss some marshmallows in the trailer. They’ll probably charge right up there and gobble them up. If they’re skittish, I’ll leave the trailer overnight so they get used to it. One way or another they walk on to that trailer. I don’t force them.
Then I’ll drive to a place where a guy puts a bullet in their head and cuts them into pieces.
Yeah. That happens.
I don’t dislike my pigs. I treat them well. But they’re livestock.
“That’s the thing guys.” I was talking aloud. No kidding, the pigs love it when I talk. I think they like how it sounds. They honk and snort right back.
“The debates were just awful. I think there’s a whole lot of folks who just don’t like being adults.” I tossed more apple peelings. I was munching on a slice of fresh apple pie; a paper plate balanced in my lap.
Snort, snort snort…
“I mean, you guys have free food, and a place to stay, and health care. I even get the vitamin supplement for your feed. You guys are pretty fit.”
Snort, snuffle, snort.
“And you’re gonna’ end up in a freezer.”
Snort, snuffle, shuffle…
I sighed and tossed them the last bit of my pie. They loved it. When they begged for more I tossed in a whole apple; which they fought over.
You ever listen to a debate and see some of the appeals being made and then take a good look at livestock? That shit’s dark!
When I was in a sad mood my dog would decide I needed to go for a walk. It was wise counsel. I needed a walk. I tossed some gear in my truck and went grouse hunting. More to come…
There’s another side of your livestock you may not have considered, one which is good or bad whichever way you choose to view it.
Your pigs have been treated well, everything done for them, they are fit and sleek without a care in the world in the pen you have created.
If something were to happen to you, and the gravy train were to be derailed, what would happen?
I would venture a guess that when hunger sets in, their true nature would begin to assert itself.
Perhaps two would perish in short order, as they hadn’t learned the pitfalls of the real world soon enough.
But the third, oh, the third! He would lean up and toughen up, grow the bristles, his tusks would extend and grow sharp, and become what he always was from the day he was born…
He would be the BOAR!