Chickens of the World Unite!

Ingrid Newkirk, Founder of PETA, (People Easily Troubled about Animals) says that her organization's ultimate goal is "a world where humans don't eat, wear or exploit animals."

In regards to the first of these goals, I write this whilst polishing off a ham sandwich, so my sympathies for that aspect of her position are, in a word, nonexistent. I have often said that I will stop eating animals when they stop eating each other. Unfortunately, Ms. Newkirk is too busy with Machievellian plots to deprive me of a side of baby back ribs to take the time to explain veganism to a pride of hungry lions on the Serengeti, so I can't really expect any progress to be made in this area soon.

As for wearing animals, I have slightly more sympathy, but draw the line when it comes to my prized coonskin cap collection. If it was good enough for Davy Crockett, it's bloody well good enough for me. Plus, kangaroo leather being the finest of materials for footballing (soccer) boots (shoes), Ms. Newkirk's revisionist and irrational demands would set world football back 4 decades, and even then, millions of cows would have to die in place of the kangaroos now gracing the feet of Theirry Henry, David Beckham, Ronaldo, and other luminaries of the game. (I myself cannot afford such expensive footwear and have to play in shoes made out of synthetic cardboard.)

However, the most shocking part of Ms. Newkirk's manifesto brevis is the part about animals being exploited. Whereas zoos, pony rides, snake charmers, and organ grinders have previously been the chief offenders in this area, the suggestion of exploitation conjures up a number of frightening possibilities. Even now, I'm sure, Detroit automakers are replacing skilled labourers with phalanxes of highly conditioned orangutans and lemurs. (While the savings will reduce the threat of outsourcing jobs overseas, there is the downside of spittle-laden dashboards and shaggier plush seating.) Who knows what other horrors lie out there that Ms. Newkirk has propitiously discovered and set herself against? Are we seeing itenerant dachsund farm labourers? Flamingo car washers? Tabby cats forced into chicken plants? Chipmunks sewing Cathy Lee Gifford apperal in sweatshops? Streetwalking sheep? (EWWWWWE! I think we've gone much too far.)

I'm not really sure what Ms. Newkirk means by all this other than having a reoccurring image of chickens marching, waving red flags, and singing the Internationale.

Come to think of it, the woman sounds like a loony.