teenagel0cal asked: I only eat animals that are raised well and killed humanely and I eat all parts of the animal is that ok
Is it okay to repeatedly impregnate someone every year in order to kill their children if their home is clean?
Is it okay to to deny someone everything enjoyable or natural or healthy because you need to make sure their corpse is fit for eating after they are killed?
Is it okay to perform surgical operations and procedures on someone in order to make a profit? Castrate a little baby just so he’ll be fat enough for the pot? Mutilate limbs just to prevent their delicate bodies from being torn?
Is it okay to slit the throat of someone who thought they could trust you?
Imagine being ‘treated well’ for a few months. You’re still young, you’re far from being fully grown or mature. One day you’re led onto a truck. You’re anxious because you’re not used to travelling in a lorry or a van. The doors open and men you don’t recognise poke you with electric prods or metal poles and chase you all into a long chute. You’re all in single file and there’s a lot of noise and a lot of scary things happening, so different to your ‘quiet, local, family farm’ with the workers you know and trust. The doors open one at a time and the person in front of you disappears from site. You can smell sweat and fear and you can hear the muffled moans of your friends behind the wall. Then the doors open and it’s your turn. You’re prodded forwards into a room shaped like a box. Before you know it you’re fenced in and staring a stranger right in the face. You don’t like being seperated from your friends, and this is a new and frightening situation. The adrenaline and fear of your friends is even stronger here. The man reaches towards you with something long and metallic and - BAM.
You hit the floor, convulsing widely, head spinning. The captive bolt gun that is supposed to render you unconscious and completely unaware hasn’t quite hit the mark and, like so many others, you are simply in agony, stiff with fear, but totally conscious. The man doesn’t have time to check you and he hits a button, causing the floor to collapse and your flailing body to fall down and onto a conveyor belt. The belt takes you into another room, where you are roughly grabbed and someone clasps a tight metal bracelet around your foot. This is terrifying, like something out of a nightmare. You’re used to kind handling and quiet voices and fields of grass and playing with your friends. Instead you’ve been taken to some kind of hell. The shudder of the machinery brings you upwards until you’re dangling by your tender ankle, a high pitched scream of agony and terror escaping your throat as your swollen, fattened weight is supported on one weedy little ankle, and your throbbing head has started to bleed. You’re swung hap-hazardly and dangerously around the room in a zig-zag, because this machine thinks you’re already unconscious and half-dead anyway. So it doesn’t matter if you’re left spinning upside down, hitting every jagged corner of concrete as you enter the next room, completely panic-stricken by the loud sounds around you.
The next room if the kill floor. And then it hits you - the stench of fear, the stench of blood. The floor is a torrent of guts and the walls are flecked with blood. You reel in horror at the sight of your friends dead next to you - still hanging upside down, their eyes wide in terror, their throats completely sliced open and their entrails hanging out. The last thing you see is the blood splattered trousers of your killer, before you’re left to bleed out and die. You’re not an animal. You’re not loved, no matter how well you were treated. You’re just meat. You’re just food.
Every day, thousands of animals go through this process fully conscious. Every single one of them fights for their life the second they realise what’s happening. Because they’re not stupid. They know they’re going to die. And it doesn’t matter how they’re treated, because they all end up here. The abbatoir. And every pig, cow, or sheep that crosses this threshold is simply ‘pork’ or ‘beef’ or ‘lamb chops’. It doesn’t matter how they were raised because they all end up here, they all end up as commodities, and they’re all killed just so that you can sit down and enjoy your ham sandwich, or your omelette, or steak and kidney pie.
A life gone. All for a twenty minute meal. It was not worth it.
gonna be rash here but YES IT IS FUCKING WORTH IT. ITS THE FUCKING FOOD CHAIN.
You are going to have to humor vegans. They don’t get how the food chain works.
It reminds me of a time when I was in a boat on the ocean, and I noticed a shark. To my amazement, the shark looked extremely hungry, so I did what the food chain dictated:
I grabbed the nearest person I could find, and proceeded to throw her overboard. Well…..my food chain theory was correct. The shark was extremely hungry and valued my contribution. I could tell from the massive puddle of blood that had stained the ocean waters that I had done good.
However, my fellow boat-mates got a severe case of the sanctimonious. You would not believe how much shit I had to listen to. Much like the OP, they went on-and-on-and-on going into specific detail, and providing long, rambling pleas for more compassion, just like you, I couldn’t take it anymore.
I screamed at the top of my lungs…..ITS THE FUCKING FOOD CHAIN…….YES ITS FUCKING WORTH IT, YOU BUNCH OF MOTHER FUCKING FUCKFACES.
Swish!!! Nothing but net!