>>> Bang for Your Buck January 13, 2008
By staff writer David Nelson
Essential New Word of the Week: lawyerling (definition hint: junior jurisprudence)
Stock in PetSmart Inc. took a tumble last week when our very own J.M. Lucci spoke out against pet owners in a piece that rocked both the financial community and the community of single, frumpy women that live in my building. You might think it was wrong of Lucci to equate Snookums Q. Fluffybottom with Kunta Kinte, but his bold stance reminded me of something: Animals are here to provide food, fur, and high-wire/flaming hoop-filled entertainment.
I’ve always been indifferent to the animal kingdom. As a child, I usually had to compete with some dog for my parents’ love. At least, that’s what it said on my birthday cards. Most of these dogs had bladder control problems. I think that’s what really turned me off. I didn’t want my house smelling like pee, and let’s face it: at thirteen years of age, my own bladder control problems were clearly the more pressing concern.
The first dog I ever had was a partially-mobile clump of hair that once pooped on my Candyland game board. After that, there were no more magical trips to Peppermint Mountain. The next pet was a nervous wreck who actually bit me. That’s a nasty shock, no matter how much peanut butter is smeared on your dong. Why couldn’t we have had a nice, docile fern?
Even today, my parents dote on a mutt who jumped on my girlfriend the first time I introduced her. I’m not usually a jealous guy, but I thought I recognized him from a video I saw on the internet. And I can’t risk my girl falling for someone who clearly has a healthier libido than I do.
Ultimately, it’s not even the pet owners that bother me. If you feel you need a dozen cats to keep you company for Häagen-Dazs/Sex and the City night, that’s fine; I’m not obliged to come to your house. The ones I truly dislike are the hypocrites at PETA. I’m not much for acronyms, but Phony Exasperating Tiresome Assholes, anyone?
PETA believes that all animals should live free of torture and abuse. Generally speaking, I can get behind that. On an average day, I don’t have the craving to, say, punch a llama. But we don’t really need PETA to address this issue. We already have federal laws that do that. A group of outraged animal lovers shouldn’t and won’t make animal abuse any more illegal than it is now. Stab a penguin; go to jail.
So why does PETA even exist? Despite what it says on their website, they’re not here to fight for animal rights. They’re more interested in fighting against human convenience. Sure, it’s easy to vilify America’s quarterbacks for sponsoring awesome dog gladiator shows, but we can’t afford to be soft when it comes to all the things we need from our delicious, less-evolved friends.
Here is a list of some of the things PETA is opposed to:
Fishing – Well, those hooks do look painful, but how else do you suggest that uncommunicative fathers bond with their sons?
Dog Shows – I agree with this one, but only because dog shows are disturbingly fruity.
Keeping goldfish – Really? The most boring, flushable pet of them all? The ones with a memory span of only thirty seconds?
Seeing-eye dogs – Is PETA trying to incur the wrath of the blind? Because even though they’ll only hit you one time in ten, they can swing those canes pretty hard.
They’ve even taken an official stance against honey. And I think I speak for the world’s cartoon bears when I say that this is unacceptable. Who the hell is PETA to assert that the sweetness of my tea is less important than the freedom and self-determination of goddamn bumblebees? I hope the president of PETA gets stung a hundred times by a swarm that invades his urethra.
I grew up thinking that ALF was just the wacky, foam-rubber star of a really lame sitcom. As it turns out, it also stands for “Animal Liberation Front.” The ALF commits acts of vandalism, sabotage and arson on behalf of animals. Officially, PETA is a separate group, but the two organizations are basically like Bruce Wayne and Batman. That’s right, PETA dresses young male trainees in brightly colored panties.
The highest scorn is heaped upon shelters that euthanize animals. But PETA itself is given thousands of animals a year, the majority of which get put down. And I don’t mean “put down” as in a Don Rickles routine. This policy is more hypocritical than a gay Muslim at a KKK rally.
PETA’s logic is overwhelming. They say there is no ethical difference between the killing of chickens and the plight of holocaust victims. In fact, they once ran a campaign juxtaposing concentration camps and poultry farming. As a Jew and a fan of Spicy Cajun Chicken Tenders™, this is outrageous. Besides, if the Nazis were interested in opening a fast-food chain, they surely would have called it “LuftWaffles.”
I will say, however, that PETA ads became a lot better when they decided to depict nude actresses with the slogan “I’d rather go naked than wear fur.” As I’m neither a homo nor a pimp, I was never really likely to wear fur anyhow, so I can wholeheartedly support this campaign. When you’re staring at Christy Turlington’s milky thighs, your political agenda suddenly doesn’t matter so much.
Hollywood is quick to embrace a trendy cause, and few are trendier than animal rights. PETA’s supporters read like a who’s who of mediocrity: Pamela Anderson, Dolly Parton, and Sarah Jessica Parker, for example. Believe me, if it weren’t for PETA, they’d be the respective poster children for hepatitis, breast reduction, and having-a-horse-face. Even Paul McCartney, perhaps PETA’s most famous supporter, was the Beatle you could never quite trust…
Naturally, PETA is against using animals for product testing. Only a maniac, or perhaps Dick Cheney, would inflict pain on adorable fluffy bunnies to improve moisturizing cream. Then again, stuff has got to be tested somehow. Science can’t just throw a bunch of peptide chains together and hope for the best. I want my skin to look its softest, and I’m not sure that can happen without blinding a few woodland creatures.
It’s even crazier to oppose medical testing. Just about every important medical advance short of anal bleaching has come about as a result of animal experimentation. If testing on sheep and dogs had been outlawed in the past, you’d be reading this article through some kind of anthrax mask, on a special rickets-friendly chair.
Even now, studies on fruit flies bring us closer to curing breast cancer, a leading cause of death among women, and ruiner of once-gorgeous jugs. Naturally, PETA has spoken out against such testing. Amazingly, they claim that fruit flies have the same theoretical rights as people. I say, show me a PETA executive whose mother has breast cancer, and I’ll show you a person who suddenly won’t mind killing a bunch of flies.
For the record, I don’t hate animals. I know they feel pain. Pointless cruelty is repulsive, no matter how many pesos are riding on the outcome of your cockfight. Animals eat and fuck and sleep, just like me. A lot like me, actually. That said, I'd cheerfully strangle every puppy, kitten, dolphin or panda bear in the world to save my mom or my friend or myself or Kevin Chang or you. Humans are just more important.
If you do support PETA, you shouldn’t do it halfway. Avoiding meat and fur is only the first step. You’re going to have to give up all modern conveniences that came at the expense of animals. That includes most medicines, foods, and forms of housing. Hopefully, this will kill you inside of a few months, so the rest of us can go out for steaks to celebrate.
Essential New Word of the Week:
lawyerling n [‘lojrlIng]
A few of my friends chose to pursue a career in law. It’s quite comforting to know that if and when the police finally arrest you for public drunkenness, or jaywalking, or exposing yourself to the elderly, you’ll have a trusted friend in your corner, ready to defend your legal rights.
But people don’t just start out as lawyers, oh no. They have to undergo a gruelling process of articling and study. It’s almost like being an apprentice wizard, or a Jedi padawan, or some slightly less geeky metaphor. During this period, one is not yet a fully-fledged member of the profession, so he or she may be dubbed a lawyerling.
Once, a friend who had not yet passed the bar exam was arguing with another friend who had. I don’t remember what the argument was about, but I do remember how it ended: with the words “Silence, lawyerling.” That should tell you everything you need to know about how law professionals treat their juniors.