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November 13, 2015

I used to believe that hunting was normal, natural, etc. etc.

But then one day I realized I was having those thoughts the same as someone who might hunt would.  I had never thought about hunting from the point of view of the hunted.


Suddenly I was in a wooded area with my child.  All around us are creatures who are the same color as the trees and grass so it is difficult to see them.  Sometimes they are high in the air, other times low to the ground and crouching.  Every waking moment of my life is spent worrying about these creatures.  For some reason, I have no idea why, they will make a very loud noise and by the time we hear it, it is already too late.  One of us is murdered or made lame or dying.

We have never harmed these creatures ourselves.  We are peaceful.  We never attack or plan to be cruel back to them.  Despite having committed no crimes and no retaliation they keep coming, crouching and hiding, high and low, and murdering us.

There is no law to protect us.  No place to hide.  My every waking moment is spent in fear of the creature who makes the loud frightening noise and murders us.  There is no rest for me as a mother with my child.

Although we are peaceful, we ourselves can never truly feel at peace for we must live every day in fear.  For us, every day a war is upon is, a war of which we know not why it is against us, of which we never retaliate, of which there seems to be no end and no explanation.

Ethics and morals all have to do with choice.  A lion has no choice.  It isn’t a moral or ethical decision for the lion.

A human with a belly full of breakfast, a fridge full of food at home and a grocery store on every corner has a choice.

Kill the innocent.  Do not kill the innocent.


From → Journal

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