PETA.
I hate PETA.
Don’t get me wrong, I’m all in favor of the ethical treatment of animals. I fed a balding squirrel today. I pick worms up off the hot pavement and place them in the dirt. In 2001, I carried a flea-infested baby squirrel from my German class to the university’s veterinary hospital so they could treat his closed-head injury (they made me take him back; yeah, that’s gonna cure a subdural hematoma). Fur coats are only good for Eskimos and those 60-year-old Jewish women who stand around at the Estée Lauder counter and look as if they were attacked by a makeup-wielding maniac (hi, grandma!). Along that vein, it is wrong to subject animals to testing for beauty products (don’t tell my grandma).
But PETA makes me want to throw hard candy at vegetarians, whom I would normally leave in peace to enjoy their organic soy products.
Take, for example, the organization’s request that Rodeo, California change its name to “Unity” to avoid conjuring thoughts of cowboys getting bucked off of highly enraged bulls (you’d be enraged, too, if someone tied a rope around your “flank”). PETA even offered the city’s schools $20,000 in veggie burgers as some sort of insane compensation. Well, if we’re going to follow this line of thinking, I have a few more changes in mind. First, we’re going in the wrong direction; interesting names are better than boring names. For example, how often to you get to say, “I © Blueballs (Pennsylvania)”? Therefore, I suggest we rename San Francisco “Gayford Buttram” (Mr. Buttram is an actual resident of Montana). As compensation, all residents will receive four veggie burgers and a seat in the House of Commons.
Another issue I have with PETA is its use of print media. According to the pamphlets Your Mommy Kills Animals and Your Daddy Kills Animals, both of my parents are sociopaths who go out of their ways to murder defenseless fish and bunnies. First of all, my dad has been dead for nearly five years; he doesn’t do much fishing. But even when he was living, the closest he came to gutting a fish was opening a can of tuna. Secondly, my mother does not torture bunnies. She tortures cats.
Furthermore, PETA supports groups like the Animal Liberation Front (ALF? Really? Were you in a hurry to find a name?) that go around letting minks loose from fur farms, especially in northern Europe. Unfortunately, the minks have not been educated on conservation and the effects of invasive species. Once released, they run around and begin devouring native animals. This escalates until, eventually, the minks band together and set up a fascist police state. Plus, supporting firebombing isn’t really going to win you any friends, except for terrorists, maybe, and the firebomb industry.
Plus, Ingrid Newkirk, the woman who started PETA and gives cancer to children, would rather scientists did not run laboratory tests on animals, even if it led to a cure for AIDS. Y’know what? I’d kill a monkey if it meant that another 25-million people wouldn’t die from AIDS. I’d kill two monkeys. And a hamster.
My biggest problem with PETA, though, is their stance on meat. Do not try to take away my meat. I love meat. I especially love beef. And I am not going to give up my steak while you release 6,000 minks (Hampshire, 1998), which will promptly destroy every other animal in their path. Instead, I’m going to drug you and put you in a pigpen, where you can experience the intelligence and intestines of our swine friends, you cheeky little vegan freaks.
In conclusion, I hate PETA.
Tags: hate, PETA, vegetarian
