Adam Hooper (the blog)

Tags

Hands on Eggs-perience

Challenge: apply one horrible pun in each paragraph.

I am an omnivore. When asked to justify my stance, I consider studying the nutritional value of meat, cultural norms, and so on. I consider looking into these things. But soon enough, I give it up as a lost cause: I eat meat because I like it, period. And now, I can no longer be intimidated by claims that I would chicken out when confronted with the task of killing an animal: I have done it. Saturday, I killed a chicken.

Meat Paula. Paula grew up in a backyard somewhere in eastern Tanzania. She laid eggs, which were eaten by her Tanzanian owners. One day, she was deemed less necessary than the 5000 shillings (USD$5) she could fetch her owner at the market. Her feet were bound, and she was carried to the market in downtown Morogoro. She was bought by a Swahili teacher. She spent one night in a convent, surrounded by Swahili lessons taped along the walls of her room. The next morning, she was lifted by her wings, in one hand, by a Swahili teacher. She was then passed to a man named Adam, who held her in the same fashion. She was carried by Adam to an outdoor area for cooking, where she was set aside while other foods were being prepared. She was afraid of Adam, who had a habit of staring at her when he was not busy. Paula watched Adam, the Swahili teacher, and two other students prepare side dishes. Eventually, Paula was brought to a spot on the ground. Her wings were pinned by Adam's left foot while her legs were pinned by his right foot. Her heart was beating hard enough for Adam to feel her pulse. Her head was held up by Adam's left hand, while her neck was sawed apart by the knife in Adam's right hand.

The experience was somewhat cathartic for Adam. It was even more cathartic for Paula, though: about as cathartic as you can get.

My long-time readers know by now that I rarely share my feelings in my blog. I will not break that tradition here. Instead, I will posit here a question—or rather, I will question my reader's positions. Have you killed any person or animal with which you sympathized? (Pets count, though you have to have been watching at the very least.) Why? I have heard it said that we are lords of all animals and we should rule them wisely (I am in a convent). Do we have that right? Why or why not? And, most interesting to me today (though somewhat rhetorical): are you religious?

I ask about your spirituality in the spirit of abstract reasoning which hits me when I am out of my element. While sawing away Paula's life, it occurred to me that it may be easier for a religious person to kill than for an atheist. In the former case, my God wants this chicken dead and I am performing His will. In the latter case, this is simply a conflict of desires between me and Paula. I hold all the power and all the responsibility for the outcome, so my killing Paula is tantamount to my declaring myself ultimately right in the question of whether or not she should live.

God or not, I can reformulate the religion question completely: am I ultimately responsible for Paula's death, given that she would not have lived any longer had I not killed her? This is a different question, but not very different from the are you an atheist? question in my mind. Mind you, I am still ignorant of all the different religions out there and their official answers.

How many soldiers, militia, rebels, or extremists are atheists or agnostic? I suspect the proportion may be rather low, because of the question of who is responsible for a killing. And so I encourage my atheist and agnostic readers not to pass up any reasonable opportunity to kill something in cold blood: it may just test your faith.

7 comments

Comments

Adam Hooper on August 20, 2007 13:24:
I would really like feedback on this post (yay or nay), so I'll start with myself:
- I killed a chicken for Paula
- I killed her for food and to reflect upon chicken-killing
- I abstain from any religious questions
- I accept full responsibility for Paula's death
Adam Hooper on August 20, 2007 13:27:
I killed a chicken named Paula. Not for Paula. Paula was the name of the chicken. (The name is inspired by the Spanish "pollo", meaning "chicken", and by the Swahili "pole" (pronounced "poll-ay", meaning "sorry", or "my sympathies".)
Caitlin on August 20, 2007 14:54:
I am unabashedly an omnivore. I love meat (though I think we in the West eat too much of it and treat it unnecessarily cruelly before it becomes meat; however my scruples do no go so far as to make me want to be a vegetarian, mostly because I don't like beans). But I don't think I'd ever personally kill an animal to eat it (unless I absolutely had to, like if the alternative was starvation), and I feel very comfortable living with that level of hypocrisy.

As for the religion question, you raise an interesting (though painfully tangential) point :P My response: yes, you were totally responsible for Paula's life at that moment - I guess that puts me on one side of that fence, according to your reasoning anyway. I think you had the right to take it, just like any predator has the right to take the life of its prey in order to survive (not that you would have died if you hadn't killed Paula, but you get the idea).

That's all I've got right now. I need to go have a meal to respond any more coherently... I'm feeling like chicken for some reason.
Jill on August 20, 2007 18:32:
Am I religious? I belong to an Anglican church which I traditionally attend twice annually. In between those dates I find my own way to make peace with my God.

On the other hand, ever since I can remember, I have believed in Animism--the idea that everything has a soul. The blessing/curse of an overactive imagination means that I can see the life in any object, but I am also aware of its mortality. As a kid, I had a very hard time at Easter when the Easter Bunny would bring chocolate bunnies and marshmallow chicks. The confections could have sat unscathed in the basket until Christmas because I simply could not bring myself to destroy them. Sometimes I'd try to eat the ears or the tail (never the head or too close to the eyes) but it always felt painfully wrong.

When the time would come to part with old toys or stuffed animals my heart again ached. Not because I would miss them, and not because I didn't believe that they would be enjoyed by some other (usually less fortunate) child, but because I feared the soulful toys would think I didn't love them anymore. The movie Toy Story was like a religious experience for me.

Have I killed any person or animal with which you sympathized? Well, I've never gone hunting and to the best of my recollection I've never caught a fish worth keeping.  About a month ago I was driving with a friend and a squirrel ran under my tires (I have no confirmation that he didn't make it, but I'm pretty sure that's what happened).  Definite guilt there. Also, everytime I fly I think about  birds who fly into or get sucked into jet engines. But no, I've never actually wittnessed my own hand doing the killing (I can't even eat chocolate bunnies for crying out loud!)

Are you ultimately responsible for Paula's death, given that she would not have lived any longer had you not killed her? If I had been in your place, I couldn't justify it as doing it for God. I'd say I did it for Paula. Are you assuming that Paula was happy living her life as a chicken? Maybe you did her a favour. Maybe her heart was beating faster in anticipation of her freedom. I'm not sure what was in store for her upon her release, but maybe it was a million times better than sitting around, getting her eggs stolen and listening to all the other hens peck and gossip. Chalk it up to no harm, no fowl :P
Eliott on August 20, 2007 23:55:
Not even a little religious

I have never personally killed an animal, though i witnessed the killing of Jen's cat Stormy. Logically, I know that humans are meant to eat some meat, so I suppose we have that right. However, the thought has always disgusted me. I agree with Caitlin in that we eat far too much meat in NA, and we treat our animals very poorly.

The only reason I'm not a vegetarian is, like you, that I love meat too much. Especially hamburgers. Delicious juicy hamburgers drool

cough Right. Anyway, the best I can do is try and cut down my meat consumption (I often try and take vegetarian options in restaurants, though not as often as I could).

I think you are 100% responsible for Paula's death (sorry). It doesn't matter whether she was going to die whether you killed her or not, the fact  is that you had a choice, and you opted to kill her.

OK I'm done. I'm going to go eat a veggie burger ;)
Doug Hooper on August 25, 2007 20:17:

Meat is more of a cultural need than a physical one. However, although I have been a vegetarian for almost twenty years, I have no problem sitting at a table with a gaggle of carnivores. In fact, I have often volunteered to carve the Christmas foul because I fancy I'm rather good at it. Strangely, it is the carnivores who have a problem with this stance, and I am often asked by friends who look concerned at a restaurant if I will be OK if they eat beef (or pork or whatever).I never ask if they'll be OK if I order the tofu fricassee. There is one inescapable truth about all this, though, which cannot be denied. If you kill it, you killed it.And I'll go one further: if you eat it, you killed it too, even if you're sitting at the family dinner table on Sunday, and your mother is talking about the great deal she got at IGA on the rump roast everyone is tucking into.Everyone who is eating it is responsible for the death of that cow as surely as if he'd slit her throat himself. In NA we're served up not only disembodied chunks of flesh, but also the means to avoid thinking about it too seriously. There is really no right (or rights) or wrong about it. It's a matter of what you can live with or what you need to do to survive.

monica on September 06, 2007 05:06:

steering clear from meat debates, i have killed 1 (one) helpless leetle hamster. he got pneumonia and was very, very miserable (fact: when sick, hamsters snore. loudly). it was a most unpleasant experience for all, especially the hamster. much like paula, he never recovered.

Your Comment

simple_captcha.jpg
(admin stuff here)