Do Something. Please do Something.

[mudifier]

Alright.  So here's another fucked up post I wish to write about because life is just too good for me.  It's so good for me that really, I think I'm nothing more but a hypocrite who talks the talk but never walks the walk.  I've become so ingrown to my own life, to my own surroundings, that I never take full attention to the lives of other people

Comments

[brinkofacomplex]

I had to stop the video after 30 seconds, but I read what it said. That's awful.
At least animals raised for meat have to be killed sooner - what we want from them is a lot more vital. It doesn't stop the abuse, though, or the crowded, shit-covered and disease-ridden conditions that some fodder animals endure. Chickens are thrown alive into boiling water to make them easier to defeather...
In one of my classes yesterday we watched a short video about a girl, Kitty, who was murdered in the States in the sixties. She was stabbed, beaten, and raped for half an hour in the early hours of the morning, on her own street. She screamed, cried for help, shrieked that she was being stabbed, ran and was caught. 38 people saw or heard it happen. 38 people admitted to it, anyway. Nobody so much as called the police until after the killer left. I didn't let myself cry. I don't know why, now; I shouldn't have felt ashamed.
I hate us, too, sometimes. We screw everything up. Sentience, like anything powerful, is a double-edged sword: it allows us greater kindness and empathy, but also greater cruelty. That we so seldom make use of the former with other species breaks my heart, too.