Gladiator or Gulag: A Simple Choice

Today I saw someone post a clip of the famous "Faces Of Death" monkey brain scene.

The dramatization shows a group of American tourists at a restaurant in some foreign country waiting at their table.

A waiter brings in a howling, screeching monkey and straps him into a special head lock and cage built into the table.

The menfolk grab mallets, and the camera jumps from their gleeful faces to the horrified expressions of the women, to the sound of screeching monkey and crunching bone.

The film never actually shows the men making contact with the monkey, see.

Cut to the waiter, carving the skull of the now-deceased monkey, scooping the brains out onto plates, and serving.

The scene is staged. No monkeys were harmed in the making of the film, but the reactions of most "civilized" individuals is predictable.

"How barbaric! How cruel! How unlike anything I'd ever consider being a part of!"

Unfortunately, this ritual feast is far less cruel than the torture experienced by most of the animals that wind up in your local supermarket.

I'd even wager that most of the people that think they're offended by such scenes would have no problem picking a lobster out of a tank and telling someone to drop it, live, into a pot of boiling water, then using an array of devices to crack the shell, pluck out the steaming meat, and dip it in some melted butter and lemon.

That may even be enough to convince them to put out on the first date, if you play your cards right.

What are the odds that these same people have a problem with cock fighting?

No, I don't mean hot guy-on-guy action. I mean the practice of breeding aggressive roosters, strapping razor-sharp weapons to their feet and beaks, and pitting them against each other in mortal combat, for the purpose of betting on the outcome. The chickens are exercised, trained, and well fed, in order to ensure they're strong for the fight, and their trainer recoups their investment in a fight or two.

Sounds barbaric, doesn't it?

What I consider worse, though, is the way most chickens make it to the market.

A hen requires approximately 330 square inches to flap her wings, and 75 square inches to merely stand up straight. A laying hen in a cage enjoys an average of 63 square inches of space. These are generous estimates. All natural impulses, such as socialization, dust bathing, nesting, preening, and exploring her environment are thwarted. Her beak is clipped to prevent her from pecking herself or her cage mates to death. 95% of chicken eggs in the US are farmed under these conditions.

Americans consume approximately 6.5 billion eggs each year, but more than 8 billion are hatched into factory farm environments.

Factory chickens are born in an incubator and dumped in boxes. They are transported to the sheds in which they will spend all but the last few hours of their lives. In the sheds, the birds enjoy approximately 130 sq inches of space, once they are full grown. Due to selective breeding and growth hormones, it takes 45 days for a chicken to reach full size. This is about half the time it took before we got so clever about breeding and drugs.

During that 45 days, they will never see natural sunlight, or breathe fresh air. The concentration of ammonia in the air at ground level is severe enough to burn the hen's bellies. Hens that die are left to rot. Among 20,000 birds per shed, it's hard to keep track of a couple hundred corpses. The causes of death range from starvation and dehydration, due to genetic disorders which prevent hens from being able to reach water, or get free from automated feeders, to organ failure, as the heart and lungs cannot keep up with the accelerated growth of the birds. Many birds live in constant pain due to leg and bone disorders.

At the end of their life cycle, they are snatched up by the leg and tossed into boxes to be transported to the slaughterhouse. At the slaughterhouse, workers hang them by the feet on a conveyor that whisks them past a cutting blade at a rate of 8,400 chickens per hour. Not every chicken is lucky enough to have her throat cut at such throughput. Many are wounded, or missed completely, and are drowned in scalding water.

The simple choice referred to in the title is this:

Would you rather live and die as a gladiator, raised to be strong and healthy, with a fighting chance at life, or in a gulag, crammed into a filthy space barely big enough to allow you to stand up and turn around, knee deep in your own waste and the bodies of your peers, until you are yanked up by the leg and dismantled by robots?

The next time you sit in judgment over some person caught with fighting cocks, while you munch on factory farmed chicken, just think about this article.

If this sort of thing concerns you, there are steps you can take to reduce the cruelty of your next meal.

1. Become a vegan.
2. For eggs, purchase certified humane or certified organic products, only. These are the best regulated labels currently on the market.
3. For chickens, and other meats, seek out cruelty free options in your area. Local farmers, or online sources.
4. Raise your own chickens, most cities allow citizens to keep a small number of birds. They make great pets, and they lay eggs, which is more than you can say for a cat.

Be careful, and do your research, the food labels are not strictly enforced in all instances. Since cruelty-free farming is less efficient, expect to pay more.

For more on factory farmed chickens and eggs check www.chickenindustry.com and www.eggindustry.com