“Family Values”

July 30th, 2008 11:51 pm by Kelly Garbato

This is how Anthony Pagor, Dale Meyer, Brandon Meyer and Justin Williams of Eldorado, Wisconsin like to spend their weekends:

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That’s right, torturing pigs. Fucking awesome, isn’t it, the way her eyes bulge out of her sockets and her tongue lolls out of her mouth as you squeeze every last bit of air out of her porcine lungs, isn’t it? What can be cooler than inflicting some unnecessary hurt on a “lower” life form, eh? Bet it makes y’all feel like quite the menz. Tomorrow you can haul her off to the slaughterhouse and come back with a freezer full of pork chops. You know, a MANLY MEAT!!!!! “Real food for real guys,” indeed.

Lest you think the lady folk are too compassionate for such cruelty, think again:

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Guess they haven’t quite grasped the interconnectedness of oppressions. Maybe, one day as Jenna Marten’s future-husband is throttling her for burning dinner or raping her after a night out drinking with his friends, she’ll look back with horror on the time she and her sister Kendra tortured a hog with a similar amount of indifference and cruelty. Maybe she’ll even realize that what she did to the pig – grabbing her, slamming her to the ground, choking and hitting her – wasn’t all that different than the violence perpetrated on her by her own abuser. Nope, not that different at all.

And no, that’s not a threat, it’s a fact. An estimated 1 in 4 American women will face such abuse, usually at the hands of a family member, at least once in her life. I wish it weren’t so (oh dog, do I), but them’s the numbers. There’s a one on four chance that Jenna will be mistreated; a one in two chance that either her or her sister Kendra will one day be a victim in the cycle of violence. The same cycle they perpetuated a few weeks ago under the guise of “fun.”

Let’s just pause for a moment and consider that there were children in attendance. Children who witnessed these awful displays of cruelty. Children who learned that, sometimes, it’s ok to be cruel. Sometimes a little pain can even constitute the centerpiece of a “fun” family affair!

Speaking of good times and family values, let’s check out some more family snapshots from the Eldorado Community Picnic.

Here’s some unnamed good ole’ boy, smack talking a pig which he presumably defeated in the mid wrestling ring:

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Four more unnamed fuckwits tackle one – one! – poor hog; collectively, they must outweigh her by a few hundred pounds at least:

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And in this frame-worthy photo, two big strapping men squeeze a pig between two slats of wood – I’m guessing to hold and release her before the “match”? Which begs the question, how can they make the flimsiest of claims to “humaneness” when they don’t even have the necessary equipment to restrain these muddy and terrified animals?

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I mean, just look at this pig’s face!

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Don’t just glance at it and then quickly avert your eyes because it’s too uncomfortable, too painful. Seriously look at that picture.

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Look at the pain written across the pig’s – let’s call her Wilbur

(even though yes, I know, Wilbur was a dude pig, but we’ll name her Wilbur because I have been referring to her as a she since the beginning of this post)

just look at at the pain, the suffering, expressed on that innocent pig’s face.

Think of Wilbur, trapped between the bodies of two – no, four –

(christalmighty, there are four gown men slamming into her from all directions; how on dog’s green earth can this be legal!?)

– trapped between the bodies of four grown men, each of them pressing, slamming, hitting her from all sides. Think of how that must feel. The force. The impact. The pressure and the weight. The terror and panic at not knowing why these huge, loud, bald animals are torturing you senseless.

And while we’re staring at this photo, this document of abuse, let’s consider how Wilbur’s body even ended up in an upright vertical position. Pigs don’t walk on two legs. Why the fuck would Wilbur be standing like this?:

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Well, clearly because the two current animal abusers / future woman/child abusers standing ventrally to her lifted her off the ground and launched her into the fucking air when they tackled her, full force.

It’s all just a fun day at the fair though, eh?

Well, you know, I’d like to ask Anthony Pagor, Dale Meyer, Brandon Meyer, Justin Williams, Jenna Marten, Kendra Marten, and all the other unnamed and anonymous “people” (a term I use loosely) something. Well, a lot of things, actually.

Would you treat a dog this way? Would you hurl a German Shepherd through the air, throw him around, hit and slap and punch him? No? Why not? Pigs are just as smart as dogs; only different is, one’s considered food, the other, a “pet”. At least, in our society. Other cultures make different distinctions. And, I might add, an animal’s level of intelligence and sentience (which is all that really matters when we’re discussing rights or even “welfare”; and yes, there is a difference) does not change when said animal crosses international borders.

Would you treat a three-year-old child this way? Again, pigs are as smart as three-year-olds. If your argument is that it’s ok to abuse pigs because they’re “stupid,” they’re no dumber than a young child. So what logically follows, then?

Would you treat a grown human adult this way? Would you gang up on an innocent stranger, four-to-one, and beat him (or her) senseless – without his permission? Because, remember, Wilbur did not consent to this. I’m sure she’d much rather be wallowing in a nice warm mud hole with her piglets somewhere. *

So just where do you get off abusing a pig for your own amusement and entertainment? How do you even get off by doing such a thing?

Because this picture:

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made my gut wrench. I recoiled, visibly. I kind of gagged a little.

Truthfully, I don’t think I’ll be able to sleep tonight, not without seeing that pig’s tortured face in my dreams.

And you – you who hurt her – how will you sleep tonight?

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Link via Ryan of the Veg Blog.

* By the way, if you answered “yes” to any of the above, you’re a sick fuck and ought to go shoot yourself before you infect any more of humanity. Or get some psychiatric treatment. Honestly, as long as you do one or the other, I could not care but a whit.

(Crossposted from.)

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