It’s a special morning of a special day, but out in migratory bird habitat there’s a massacre going on. Though nearly every family across the country has a turkey thawing out in preparation for a gluttonous banquet a little later in the day,
Text and Photography ©Jim Robertson, 2013. All Rights Reserved
recreational meat-pursuers are ringing in the season by blasting away into flocks of wintering geese to make up for the fact that their sacrificial bird-of-the-day came from a grocery store.
Never mind that the poor being was raised in a windowless barn, crowded-in with so many other turkeys that their wings wither away to virtual stumps of appendages, their natural coloration was bred out of them anyway.
Can’t afford your own tormented Thanksgiving turkey this year? Not to worry, chances are some abattoir has donated hundreds
of frozen carcasses to your local food bank, in hopes of promoting their own animal industry. Here on the coast, turkeys were donated by a thriving seafood “processing” plant.
Non-human life has very little value in today’s world. Heck, a Montana wolf hunter can go out and mow down a loyal dog walking practically at her beloved master’s side and not face any legal consequences. The value of mass-produced birds is measured by the pound. No charge for their stark white feathers; they come off the body easily and can fetch a penny or so a pound at the pillow factory.
But the mighty hunters out in the tidelands currently shooting up a storm won’t be satisfied until they kill something themselves. There’s nothing like a hands-on blood bath to get you in the mood for a feast, I guess. Some folks haven’t come far from Plymouth Rock; at least they phased out witch burnings.
Text and Wildlife Photography ©Jim Robertson, 2013. All Rights Reserved
Exposing the Big Game 
Reblogged this on Wolf Is My Soul and commented:
We don”t celebrate Thanksgving is Sweden, unless one spuse or the other brought the custom to Sweden. (People could of care less, just wanted to mention it as a f.y.i)
The same sentiments apply to any occasion.
Well said, but one correction: someONE, not something. 🙂
PS – GO VEGAN!
Free vegan starter pack at: http://www.afa-online.org
Of course!
Of course it should read someone’s spouse. I blame it on the fact that English is my second language, although I’m usually very thorough when going through the grammar of my text. Sorry about missing it this time.
We knew what you meant;)
“…at least they phased out witch burnings” LOL
And not a moment too soon.
…my heart bleeds…am a vegan but have to watch loved ones relish in eating the carnage of precious beating hearts…*tears*…you expressed my feelings perfectly, btw…thank you…
You’re welcome. Watching loved ones relish in eating carnage is never easy. How can they not see and feel what we do?
I’m assuming your question is rhetorical..but the need to answer is strong. ☺ After being an animal lover/advocate/rescuer (love ’em more than most people) human for years and a student of psychology, I’m convinced many of these humans do NOT see the “connection” between their “food” and where it comes from. To paraphrase, the wonderful Paul McCartney: If all slaughterhouses were made of glass, we’d all be vegetarians.” As for the remainder of the “serial killers,” they are just “wired” differently. And many have no “souls.” I really believe that.
I refuse any invitations by family or friends on Thanksgiving… if it were to give thanks to Tofurkey, veggies and fruits, that would be something to celebrate! This orchestrated mass-killing however, is appalling and the associated ignorance, brutality, callousness, carelessness and egomania is sickening. Thanks for your post, Jim!
You’re welcome Anja, and thanks for bringing up egomania which is clearly behind any notions that all life was put here for god’s chosen ones–the humans.
Reblogged this on Exposing the Big Game and commented:
Just like last year, again were awakened this morning to the constant blasting of shotguns at geese from across the river–Happy Fucking Thanksgiving! These hunters are out killing other animals while the turkey cooks away at home. How much death do they need to feel alive?
An astute comment, Jim, on that grotesque paradox … feeling alive through killing. That joy of that defies explanation from this heart and mind.
Like Anja above, we don’t much like attending Thanksgiving celebrations, with the focus so heavily on the dead bird centerpiece — and the additional blind eye to the other atrocities this holiday represents. We usually leave town with our cameras to appreciate and express gratitude for wild animals alive and well in their habitats, preferably somewhere they aren’t hunted (when we can find that spot), then follow it with a veggie meal and a bottle of wine. We reframe it as giving thanks *to* the animals, rather expressing thanks through their deaths.
It should say “The joy of that” not “that joy of that” — sorry for the typo.
Yes, that’s the only way to spend Thanksgiving.