Life/Animal Rights

Plantman left The City to tend the Tree of Life out in The Nation and witness the appearance of The Missing Girl.

Early nurse’s aide collected blood.  The patient to the right of me moaned all night begged mercy.  Still dark.  The usually pleasant semi-noise of pre-dawn amplified to unpleasant by the wheeling of stretchers and machines; insistent patients buzzing the nurses’ station. I was not clear enough to know exactly where I was in terms of life’s journey as I waited for the sun, but it  sure as hell wasn’t Egypt.

At last Plantman was led to the vault of The Accused. The walls and door were three feet thick, but the vault was air-conditioned, lest The Accused succumb before The City could legally VOID him. The Official punched the key-code and the door yawned open, revealing a cot, a toilet, and a small table which held The Accused’s beloved African Violet, “Rose.”

The night before he was Accused,  The Not-Yet-Accused lay awake, troubled by thoughts.  His Sunday night routine. The Wife slept soundly. The pills hadn’t worked— on him.  Nor had the wine.  He resorted to television.  Disturbed. No program soothed.  Until the twenty-four-hour Hunting and Fishing channel.
Three men in a boat. Large lake, peaceful.  The men spoke softly, each phrase stretched loose by long,  slow diphthongs of The Nation’s South. It was early morning, where they were.  Foamy tongues of water lapped the boat-side.  Seductively.  Rhythmically.

This month’s FDA guidance for reducing livestock antibiotics will actually make things worse, animal welfare and food activist groups are saying. “The FDA is using a garden hose on a forest fire,” says Farm Sanctuary Senior Policy Director Bruce Friedrich. The guidance is a “diversion” that pretends to address the problem of factory farm-driven antibiotic resistance while accomplishing nothing.

One evening after work Plantman saw a man in a rumpled uniform of sorts bounced out of the Cave Guy bar.
The man made a vain attempt to stand, then let his body crumble to the gutter. On closer inspection, Plantman was shocked to discover that this poor drunk was none other than The Manager of The CityPlex.
His uniform was soiled and unbuttoned, his hair uncombed.  He was a mess.
“Manager, can this be you?”

Epics of the Deep, was a typical Big  Media over-production, but interesting in its implications: The Mad Cetologist gets hold of TKI Technologies’ Pyramid Human-Animal Language Translator (HALT), used to prove to vegetarians, “animal liberation” activists and other Viral Deviants, that while animals have a certain instinctual “intelligence,” they are far from human, and their liberation would not only result in a dearth of protein for the Citizens of The Nation, but the animals’ certain death from car accidents, starvation, not to mention immense health hazards caused allowing pigs, cows,

those who write the narrative and who win the military and marketing and financial wars . . . .
give us better living through chemistry

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Arctic ice may be melting. The methane levels may be rising, ice shelves breaking off with every news bulletin.
Here is one thing that some of those obscene profits of the greedy climate changing corporations could be seized for through taxation. Remedying the damage done in the rainforests of Peru, South America through the extraction of gold.