tiny crate

LIAM: So the box is full of loot?

SAM: No, no, no, it’s a crate, Liam.

LIAM: The crate is full of boxes?

SAM: Yes. A crate full of boxes. Box-crate, our best sponsor.

LIAM: What do you do with the boxes?

SAM: No, inside the boxes are tinier boxes.

LIAM: Tinier boxes? When do you get to the loot, though?

SAM: No, it’s a Russian nesting doll of boxes and crates.

LIAM: Box-box.

SAM: Box-box, and then inside is a box-crate, and inside that is tiny-bag-crate.

LAURA: What are you guys talking about?

SAM: Liam! Do you want all those boxes?

LIAM: I need boxes.

SAM: You get three dollars off the first box of boxes. Crate-crate.

They are so beautiful please stop harming them.  

Veal calves are kept in tiny crates completely immobile. So that their flesh stays tender and white they are fed a liquid diet that is low in iron and has little nutritive value. This heinous treatment makes the calves ill, and they frequently suffer from anemia, diarrhea, and pneumonia.  These calves become frightened and suffer greatly from painful malnourishement and from being so lonely.  

Because of your consumption of meat and dairy you sentence 21,000,000 calves each year to a life full of suffering. Please stop and go vegan. 

Thoughts after “A Story About Huntokar”

Is it just me, or is Night Vale slowly being explained?

We know why Cecil hated Steve. we know who Huntokar is, we know why there are tiny houses on crates in the middle of the desert. We know what the Dog Park is and we know what happened to Kevin.

Think about when these things were first introduced. They were just, you know, another quirky part of Night Vale, right? Why does everyone hate Steve Carlsburg? I don’t know, just go with it. Why can’t we go into the Dog Park? Don’t question it. Why does Simone Rigadeau keep saying the world ended? Well, don’t look at me, it’s just what she keeps saying.

Everything seems to be falling into place now.

Some part of me desperately wants to cling to the inexplicableness of year one Night Vale.

The other part of me finds the idea of a podcast that starts out in complete chaos and weirdness and slowly falls together until everything is connected and clicks into place five years later highly appealing.

Thoughts, my fellow Night Vale citizens?

Lemons

              “So, Vega. Where the hell did you find lemons? Real, right from Earth, lemons.” Joker picked one up and tossed it back and forth between his hands from the tiny crate of five that James had brought up to show him. “And what are you going to do with them?”

              Vega shrugged and folded his arms across his chest, “A bit of juice would keep my salsa better longer for abuela’s huevos but if you, Williams, and the Commander decide you want something I could probably find some more ingredients.”

              The snort from Joker was instant, “You expect to find fresh ingredients when the galaxy is going to hell? Aliens probably can’t have lemons, can they?”

              EDI glanced their way briefly, “Some can, some can’t. Turians, for instance, can’t. Javik’s genetic code is distinct but ours has enough similarities that it probably wouldn’t hurt him.”

              For a moment Joker just gazed at the AI seated next to him before giving a contented sigh and returning his attention to the oddly silent marine. The gleam in Vega’s eyes had Joker leaning back with a sideways glance. “Uh…”

              “You know how babies do that scrunchy-face thing when you give them lemons? None of our non-human crew have probably had them. Javik’s already sour but should we give him a slice and see what happens?” James kept his voice low, taking a casual look over his shoulder before taking the lemon out of Joker’s suddenly nerveless hand to return it to the box.

              The pilot recovered just fast enough to grab at Vega’s arm with a grin, “You have to. I need to see this. Tell me when and I will walk my ass down to the mess hall.”

              James shook his hand with a spreading grin of his own, “Oh, definitely. I don’t think any of us will want to miss this.” It was going to be adequate vengeance after the Prothean had turned his attempt to make nice into a chance to insult him.

              —–

              “Hey! Javik, my man.” All four eyes narrowed slightly as Vega cheerfully waved the walking fossil down and pushed himself away from the counter. Garrus sat back slightly at one of the mess tables, Tali across from him with both hands covering her face, although the foggy lights of her eyes through her mask peeked between her fingers. Liara sat next to her and simply rested her head on the table with a sigh, already regretting agreeing to oversee Vega’s prank.

              “I am not ‘your man’. What is it you want?” The deep lilt of his voice was already annoyed, though not many on the Normandy SR-2 had heard it as anything but.

              A noise and more movement caught James’ attention as EDI helped Joker from the lift to the CIC. “I hear you ate all sorts of crazy things back in your time. You really ate Salarians?”

              A guttural grunt left Javik’s throat as a watchful gaze scanned the entire room while he set a flask onto the countertop. “Yes. Raw. It was a –“

              “A delicacy. Yeah, heard Shepard talking about you and Wrex bro-ing it up trying to unnerve the Salarians.” His head nodded sagely despite the ire that flickered across Javik’s face. Looks like that never failed to remind anyone that his race, just like the Turians, was pretty much solely predatory. “Ever try a lemon?”

              Amber eyes flickered down to the cut up yellow fruit on a plate that Vega had pushed closer to him. The next glare they exchanged made the current challenge completely clear to both. Javik had no clue what would happen if he ate it, or if it was even a real food. But if he refused the dare, Vega would win anyway.

              With an air of utter nonchalance and an effortless look of boredom, the Prothean picked up one slice delicately between two taloned fingers. His hip rested lazily against the counter as everyone held their breath and he watched a drop of juice drip down a short claw. “No. As I am sure you already knew. Your attempts to… get one over on me, as you humans say, are primitive. As I expected.”

              “Maybe, but I don’t see you eating it.” Vega’s tone was sharp, the dare doubled down in an instant.

              Chuckling briefly, Javik gave him an arch stare and ate the slice, skin and all. He chewed thoughtfully, plainly studying what he thought of it, before shrugging. A moment later he picked up his flask and opened it. “It is eaten. What is your next play, primitive?”

              James blinked once and then sighed and waved a hand at him, “You’re no fun. It was worth a try, Joker. We should get you back to your fancy leather chair.”

              Grimacing, Joker rose to his feet with EDI’s help under the gloating gaze of the still victorious Javik. “Yeah, yeah. We’ll figure something else out.”

              Javik and the forgotten group seated still in the mess watched the trio depart, both clowns grumbling from their failure. At the pneumatic hiss of the lift doors, the Prothean coughed and his face twisted in disgust.

              “Seriously?” Liara lifted her head at Garrus’ choked laugh as Javik swiftly removed the tattered bit of lemon from where it had been tucked by his cheek and threw it in the disposal, almost gagging before shaking his head.

              Tali’s hands fell to the table, “How did you manage that if you hated it so much?”

              Haughty, the ancient warrior took a deep swig from his flask to cleanse his tormented palate before fixing them with another glare. “As if I would ever let a primitive make me show weakness. The day either of those fools triumphs over me in even the smallest of ways, the great Prothean Empire will have truly fallen to its lowest point.”

              Taking another drink and brushing his mouth off, ignoring Garrus’ badly hidden snickers, he calmly turned and continued to make his way to the lift, his intended destination before he had been side tracked.

URGENT! You may recall the 3 smuggled tiger cubs trapped in a tiny crate for 7 days at the Beirut airport a few weeks ago. They were covered in their own urine and feces, infested with maggots, dehydrated and hungry. Worst of all, they were headed to a zoo in Syria! The cubs were rescued by the wonderful group Animals Lebanon and have now recovered. But a judge in Lebanon has ruled that the cubs go back to their owner. PLEASE help us put public pressure on this judge by SIGNING AND SHARING THIS PETITION! Animals Lebanon is appealing and needs signatures to show the judge on Monday. Thank you!

https://www.change.org/p/send-3-baby-tigers-to-sanctuary-not-the-black-market

20 Questions with Dr Ferox #17

Time for another post of 20 questions and comments I’ve been asked recently. I’m not sure how well the tagging system is working at the moment, so if you’re waiting for a question to be answered I’d recommend checking manually.

@Its-janeway-or-the-highway said: For other useful bits of strine see also: Spitting the biscuit: throwing a tantrum out of sheer frustration, Bitzer: a dog that is of mixed, unknown origin (bits of this, bits of that), blood worth bottling: someone who is such an excellent individual their blood is worth bottling, such as Dr Ferox. I think your Aussie followers could have a field day with this subject.

We probably could, but the lingo also varies from state to state. For example, I didn’t know for the longest time that ‘Freckle’ is also slang for 'anus’, which gives a whole new meaning to “wouldn’t give a fat rat’s freckle” (means I couldn’t care less)

Anonymous said: Guinea pigs or Hamsters? Which one is your fav?

I have been asked about hamsters several times, so I say it again. Never seen one. They’re not available as pets in Australia.

Keep reading

The Fisher’s Lure - Chapter 18

http://archiveofourown.org/works/10613898/chapters/23860116

Chapter 18: Bleeding Credits

Feeling came back to Reyes’ body slowly, like dew condensing on his skin. He tried to clear his throat, but his muscles had other ideas; all he managed was a quiet groan. The sound was broken and breathy, like running water over coals. His lips felt puffy and his eyes were dry. He rolled over onto his side, stretching limbs that screamed in protest and a spine that could have been moulded from plaster. His arm no longer hurt, though. That was nice.

“Ugh. What did your doctor give me?”

There was no response. He twisted his neck to look over his shoulder, but Sara was nowhere to be found. He was alone on the bed in his cramped mountainside apartment, though the darkness made it hard to tell; twisted up in the dusty sheets like he planned on being mummified. Someone must have dragged him up here - and now that he thought about it, there was no way it could have been Sara. It would have been too risky.

Whoever it was had left him in full armour - a relief, if Nakmor Drack was who he had to thank for his transportation. The leather creaked as Reyes pushed himself up onto his elbows, fumbling around for the light switch. The slatted blinds covering the window opposite the bed let a few horizontal strips of neon light leak in, but the room was otherwise dark. He’d only stayed in this place a handful of times since he acquired it, and he wasn’t thrilled by the idea of stumbling into the furniture. When the clicking fluorescents filled the room with their anaemic light, Reyes was reminded why he rarely returned. He hauled himself upright, though his head spun a little, feet stinging as he crossed the cold floor.

He found his boots by the entrance to the other room. His shoulder muscles burned when he bent to pull them on. The events of the day were slowly trickling back, and he could have mapped his heart rate with the progress of his sluggish thoughts. Attack, capture, resistance. Sara. Sara. Sara. He remembered falling asleep on her shoulder.

There were only two rooms in this place, and the second was as silent as the first. It wasn’t as dark, though, because someone had raised the hanging end of the blinds in here. The resulting beam of pink-purple-blue sliced the space almost in half. There was a woman sitting on the couch, illuminated from the neck down. She was staring out through the half-bared window, mesmerized by the play of lights below.

She turned around when she heard Reyes enter, and he caught a glimpse of an asari scalp crest. “Good morning,” Lexi said pleasantly. “Or maybe I should say good evening. How are you feeling?”

Reyes smiled at her, though his face still felt like it was made of plasticine. “Like a new man,” he said - and it wasn’t entirely a lie.

Liressa and Agatus were dead, along with the human outlaw he’d put down outside the safe house. By now, he knew better than to trust appearances, because neither appearances nor luck had done him any favours lately - but he suspected the danger was over.

No. He knew it was over, even if he still planned to confirm. Reyes was safe. Sara was safe. They would still need to be discreet, but they didn’t need to fear. They could leave this break-neck pace in the past and work everything else out slowly. Even the thought made him feel a little strange, like his thoughts were coded in an alien language. Slowly.

Lexi smiled. Reyes couldn’t make out her eyes, but her expression seemed a little strained. “And your forearm? Is there any pain?”

“No.”

“Sara -” She paused as if reconsidering her words. “The Pathfinder mentioned you were wounded a few days earlier. She asked me to check your progress before I leave.”

Reyes shrugged. He found it a little strange that she was using Sara’s title, but perhaps she liked to maintain a professional distance. There was no harm in it. He turned his back on her while he peeled away enough leather to give her access to the wound on his upper arm - or what used to be the wound, at any rate. It didn’t hurt anymore, but he could feel the hardened medi-gel clinging to his skin.

“Where’s Sara?” he asked as he shucked his jacket.

“On the Tempest,” Lexi replied. Why did she sound so careful?

“Is she okay?” His bicep finally bared, Reyes turned around and held it out an angle the doctor could work with - but she looked like she wanted to jump out the window.

“Yes, of course. She’s taking the opportunity to rest.”

She used her omni-tool to slice through the old bandage, then held the tool to his arm while some silent frequency jostled the layer of gel. Reyes might have squirmed away - it tickled - but something about the way she spoke made him nervous. She wasn’t telling him everything.

She manipulated the muscle, digging her fingers into his flesh. “Any pain?” Reyes shook his head. “Good. You can wash the remaining gel off the next time you shower.” She gestured to the bandage that covered him from the elbow down. “This should stay wrapped for another three days, but make sure you change the bandage every night. I’ve left some gauze in your room. Once you’re ready, you can destabilize the gel with the frequency I’ve transferred to your omni-tool.”

Reyes worked his arm up, down and around, testing his range of movement. It should have been satisfying - but it wasn’t. “There’s something wrong, isn’t there?”

Lexi was quite clearly holding back a sigh. “I’m not the right person to talk to,” she said quickly. Apparently satisfied that Reyes was in good health, she hurried over to the door, snatching up her bag from the rickety table as she went. “I’m going back to the Tempest.”

“And I should give you a call if it gets worse, right?”

“No.” She paused in the doorway, stripes of neon framing her in a flickering cage of light. “I suspect we’re leaving soon.”

Then she was gone - and the light was branded on the inside of Reyes’ eyelids.

Reyes was confused. Leaving his jacket and chest guard on the floor, he stumbled into the bedroom and heaved open the crate he’d stashed in the corner. It stirred up a cloud of dust - and maybe a bit of mould. He covered his mouth with his forearm, coughing helplessly as he fumbled through the contents.

I suspect we’re leaving soon. What the hell did that mean?

Keep reading

I live in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by beautiful Scottish countryside, countless fields with cows and sheep plodding about.

The local corner shops all sell free range eggs from these local farms with those cute stickers that say ‘a local farm you can trust’ words to that effect.

There’s also a chicken farm about a mile down the road that smells like death and gets worse in hot weather and I avert my eyes when I drive past.

About once a week, sometimes more, I see a huge lorry drive past my house carrying tiny crates packed really tightly with what look like broiler chickens but could be any kind of chicken.

I’ve seen farmers driving down field paths on quad bikes with calves on their laps.

Like it’s not hard to see what’s going on when you actually pay attention but it’s much easier to look away and get back to your full English breakfast.

Jedediah x Reader: Tour Guide


I don’t own the picture, and I don’t own Night at the Museum.  Other than that, enjoy!

When you woke up, you were surrounded by weird, white fluffy things.  “Hello?”  You shouted.  Voices answered from all around.

“What’s going on?”

“Where are we?”

“I’m scared, Momma!”  You ignored everyone’s cries as you batted one of the white things out of your way.  You carefully braced your foot on top of one and began to climb.  The white things were squishy, and your fee sunk into them if you stayed still for too long, but you kept going.

Until you hit a wall.  You cried out in frustration and beat your fists against the wood.

“Hey!  Let us out!”  You shouted.  People noticed what you were doing and climbed up to help you.  Eventually, someone heard you and the wall was lifted, and a massive face stared back at you.  People around you screamed and you let out a gasp as you fell back.

“Whoa whoa whoa!  Calm down, we’re not going to hurt you!”  Your chest heaved with adrenaline as the giant stared down at you.  “I’m Larry.”  Around you, mothers were calming their children, men were threatening the giant, and some were even burrowing back down beneath the white things. 

“…My n-name’s Y/N.”  You managed to stutter at last.  The giant smiled. 

“Nice to meet you.”  He held out his hand to you.  It took you a few moments to realize he meant for you to climb on top.

“Where are we?”  You asked as you crawled into his palm.  You held on to his thumb as he lifted you out of what you now knew was a box.

“This is the Museum of Natural History.  You’re a part of our newest exhibit.”

“Exhibit?”

“Yeah.  A new miniature exhibit.”  He motioned for you to look around.  You realized that you had been wrong.  Larry wasn’t a giant.  You were just small!  The ground suddenly shook and you grasped Larry’s thumb tightly.  A red blur zoomed by, and a massive dinosaur skeleton appeared from around one of the museum pillars.  You gasped in amazement as its head swivelled around, studying its surroundings.  You watched it until it disappeared.  “That’s Rexy.  You’ll meet him later.”  The little red vehicle returned and skidded to a stop at Larry’s feet.  “Perfect timing.”  Larry crouched down as two little people got out of the car.  “Jed, Oct, this is Y/N.  She’s a part of the new exhibit.  I was thinking maybe you two could show her around and introduce her to the others.”

“I’d love to Larry, but I’ve got to train a new group of recruits.  But I’m sure Jedediah can handle it.”  The one you assumed was Octavius said.  Larry nodded.

“Jed?”

“Well, ah.  I mean, I wouldn’t mind to, uh—” Octavius elbowed him in the side.  “I mean, sure.  I’d be honoured.”  Jedediah came over and helped you down from Larry’s palm as Octavius took your place.

“We’ll see you two later!”

“Bye!”  You waved after them.  Jedediah cleared his throat, and you turned to him.       

“So where do ya wanna go?”  You shrugged.  He nodded, and motioned for you to follow.  You did so, until he climbed into the red contraption.  After a few seconds, he poked his head back out.  “Ya comin’?”  You eyed the red wagon warily.

“Is that thing safe?”

“What, the car?”  You nodded.  “Not if Octavius is driving!”  He laughed until he realised you were genuinely concerned.  He climbed back out.  “Hey,” He grabbed your arm softly.  “It’s completely safe, I promise.”  Hesitantly, you nodded.  He grinned and pulled you back towards the car, helping you get in.  He closed the door, crossed to the other side, and got in.  When you were settled, he began to drive through the halls, pointing out various parts of the museum.  “…And that’s where mine and Octavius’ exhibits are.”  You nodded.  “See that empty spot next to mine?  That’s where your exhibit’s going to be.”  You craned your neck as you studied your surroundings.  Suddenly, the ground began to rumble again.  Thinking it would be the dinosaur again, you let out a tiny shriek and grabbed onto Jedediah’s arm.  “Whoa, it’s okay! It’s only Teddy!”  He tried to calm you down.  You cautiously looked up from his arm.  Instead of the skeleton you were expecting, you saw a horse and rider.  Jedediah cleared his throat, and your cheeks flooded with heat as you realized you were still holding onto his arm.

“Sorry,” You smiled nervously and let go. 

“S’okay.”  He grinned in return.  You both sat there for a moment, before Jedediah snapped out of it.

“Right.  Uh, let’s go meet Teddy.  Wait here.”  He got out of the car and walked over to your side.  He opened the door, offered you his hand, and helped you down.  He offered you his arm, and you slipped your hand in his elbow.  “Teddy!”  The man on the horse dismounted and crouched down.  “This is Y/N, she’s part of the new exhibit.  Y/N, this is Teddy.”

“Theodore Roosevelt, 26th President of the United States.”  He introduced himself as he offered a pinky.  You awkwardly shook his pinky and returned the pleasantries.

“I’m Y/N L/N,” You replied.

“Pleasure to meet you,” He offered you his hand and you climbed on.  He raised you to his horse.  “This is Tex.”  You reached out and stroked the horse’s fur, right next to its eye.  Teddy lowered you back down to the ground, and Jedediah helped you down. 

“We should keep going if you want to meet everyone tonight.”  You nodded as he led you back to the car.

“Bye, Teddy!”  You waved out the window as Jedediah drove away.  Teddy waved, before mounting Tex and riding off in the other direction.  “He’s nice,”  You commented.  Jed nodded.

“Yeah, he’s always been like that.  Needs to loosen up if you ask me.”  You laughed as he pulled over again.

“So, how does this all work?”

“Hmm?”

“How do our exhibits come to life?”

“Well, Ahkmenrah—you’ll meet him—has this golden tablet.  Every night, as soon as the sun goes down, the tablet starts to glow and we all wake up.”  He explained.  You nodded.  “Look!”  He said suddenly, making you jump.  “There’s Ahk now!”  He pulled over to the side of the hall.

“Come on!”  He grinned as you both got out of the car.  You both ran up to two people talking, a man and a women.  “Hey guys!”  They looked down. “This is Y/N, she’s a part of a new exhibit!”  He shouted before turning to you.  “Y/N, this is Ahkmenrah and Sacagawea.”  You waved up as they both crouched down and smiled at you. 

“Hello, Y/N,”  Sacajawea smiled at you.  “How are you liking it here so far?”

“It’s amazing,” You gushed.  “Everyone’s so nice!”

“That’s nice to hear,”  Ahkmenrah smiled.  “How long has your exhibit been here?”

“She just got unpacked today, and I’m taking her to meet everyone.” Jedediah interjected.

“Oh, well we won’t keep you, then.  Have fun!”  You waved as Jedediah helped you back into the car. 

                “Okay, so the only ones left are Attila and Dexter.”  He looked up suddenly.  “Speaking of which,” He got out and motioned for you to do the same.  It was hard not to notice the burly man covered in armour.  He was babbling angrily at his buddies until Jedediah whistled loudly.  The man froze and looked down at you.  His glare caused you breath to hitch and you cautiously took a step back…

…until his face split into one of the jolliest grins you had ever seen.  You began to let your guard down as the man crouched like all the others had.

“Attila, this is Y/N L/N.  Y/N,  Attila the Hun.”  Attila babbled some nonsense and offered his pinky.  You took it and he shook your hand (rather, your whole body) vigorously.  Jedediah noticed your feet were about to leave the ground, and in an effort to keep you grounded, firmly wrapped his arms around your waist, holding you down.  You let go of Attila’s pinky with a laugh.

…Which quickly turned into a shriek from you and a shout of surprise from Jedediah when a part of the hair on his shoulder moved.  A furry face grinned out at you.

“Dammit Dexter!”  Jedediah cursed.  “Stop doing that!”   You laid a hand over your racing heart, trying to will it into slowing.  Jedediah noticed your distress and turned to you.  “You okay?”  You nodded breathlessly. The monkey chattered excitedly and took off.  Attila shouted after and took off in pursuit.  After a few moments of awkward silence, Jedediah turned to you again, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly.  “So, anyway, that was Attila and Dexter.” 

“I think I gathered that,” Jedediah laughed.  Then he noticed something over your shoulder.

“Flippin’ flapjacks!  It’s almost sunrise!”  He yelped.  He began to quickly usher you back to the car.

“Why?  What’s so important about sunrise?”

“When the sun rises, we freeze!  If we’re not in our exhibits before then, who knows what would happen!”  Jedediah drove like a madman, leaving you to hold on to the seat for dear life.  He skidded to a stop in front of your crate.  A tiny ladder dangled from the top.  You both got out and he slowly walked you to the ladder.

“Thank you for showing me around tonight,” You said softly.  “I had a lot of fun.”

“No trouble at all,”  He smiled.  “I had fun too.”

“Well we should do it again sometime.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” You stopped in front of the ladder. 

“Well,” He said quietly.  “I’ll see you later, then.”  You bit your lip.  It was now or never.

“Yeah,” You said.  You pressed a quick kiss to his cheek.  “See you later,” You smiled and began to climb the ladder.  Now you may have missed the dopey grin that crossed the cowboy’s face, but you certainly didn’t miss his gleeful whoop as he sped off to the hall of miniatures.

Yeah, you were gonna like it here.

Thanks to sassyjanitor, princesstoniii, and sonofashepherd12576 for requesting this one!

3
  1. Since female mammals can only produce milk during and after pregnancy, we shove long steel devides into their vaginas with our bare hands once a year to inject them with bull semen.
  2. The calves are taken away after birth to prevent them from drinking the milk that will be sold to the public.
  3. The male calves are sent to the veal industry where they are kept in small stalls or tiny crates. Minimal to no movement is allowed; this prevents muscle development, which keeps their flesh extra tender for your enjoyment.
  4. The machines suck the cows dry several times a day - most of these cows have severe infections, and the pus gets sucked out along with the milk.
  5. A single cow emits more environmentally harmful gases than a car. 
  6. Some cows spend their entire lives standing on concrete floors; others are crammed into massive mud lots.
  7. Cows have a natural lifespan of about 25 years, but the conditions they now live in lead to disease, lameness, and reproductive problems that render cows worthless to the dairy industry by the time they are four or five years old, at which time they are sent to the slaughterhouse.
  8. We are the only species to drink milk after infancy.
  9. Cow’s milk is the number one cause of food allergies among infants and children. 
  10. Milk and other animal products may lower your lifespan more than smoking.

For the lovely @rauliskafan and her kitty’s upcoming birthday (I hope it hasn’t passed yet)

Also, forever tagging my fluffy Chilton lover @mrschiltoncat 


He sighed, strolling down the rows of cage after cage filled with animals; sad, abandoned pets that someone had decided they no longer wanted. It disgusted him, that people could so easily give up an animal that was conditioned to love them eternally - as if they were already too full of the emotion, they didn’t need more from the pet they had picked out.

This was a bad idea, for him to be here, his heart was starting to hurt for all of the misfits with which he felt such a pathetic kinship. His cane clicked across the concrete, his mind debating whether he should actually go through with this after all. His loneliness had reached an all-time low recently, and he was desperate for companionship of any kind.

Keep reading

vimeo

This clip from the movie Samsara makes a pretty clear case against factory-farmed meat, simply by showing how the animals are treated in life and death.

It’s graphic and upsetting, but it should be.

Chickens gathered by a combine and stuffed into tiny crates. Cows hooked up to rotating combination feeder/milkers. Lactating pigs held down in a supine position so litter after litter of piglets can feed on their swollen nipples. 

This is not how food should be.

his life started out like any other,
entered the world, breathed the surrounding air,
all he wanted was the warmth of his mother,
but nobody around him seemed to care.
he was taken away, cold and alone,
shackled, bellowing, to a tiny crate,
fed strange supplements, made from other’s bone,
awaited his inevitable fate.
and when the time came, he was sent away,
still a calf, too weak to move on his own,
he followed others, being shown the way,
on the kill floor, his future still unbeknown.
and on that day, he was rendered ‘just meat’
his body, and life, just something to eat.
—  my 14 year old sister sent me a sonnet she had to write for her homework and now I am crying

There is no such thing as humane slaughter. This veal calf has heard the screams of his companions and smells their blood and their fear and he knows he faces death. He has spent his entire short life confined in a tiny crate so as not to develop muscles (we like our veal tender). He has never suckled or known his mother who suffered agonizing deprivation when he was taken from her at birth. He has existed on an iron deficient liquid (we like our veal pale) causing diarrhea and illness.

My last appeal on Veganism

So like, every ten years we kill 1 trillion animals.

1,000,000,000,000.

Mostly in first world nations. America being the top.

However, veganism is still somehow more a privilege or whatever. Even in third world nations, vegetables are consumed way more because meat is a privilege. If you compare how much people a bag of rice could feed at $3 to how much people any meat could at $3 dollars, you will find that you get more for your money with rice.They eat significantly fewer animals, and when they do it is more than likely out of necessity. In first world nations like America, people will legit eat meat with every meal of the day and convince you that you are the one who’s privileged. People will convince you that buying a bag of $1.49 beans is more privilege than spending 5 bucks on a pack of chicken.

Now don’t get me wrong, in some places in the States not all veggies are cheap. Not all are so easy to access. I don’t know where these places are but people tell me about them and I wouldn’t be surprised if it were true. However, people on here will try and convince you everyone is too sick and everyone is too poor and everyone lives in a food desert, and when you don’t buy that they will try and deflect by appropriating migrant workers (the literal only time they care about them.)

And really, the cheapest way to eat is to eat within season. The reason why X veggie may seem expensive is because that veggies harvesting season is over. 

Anyway,

It’s really why I don’t hardly blog about veganism anymore because there is literally nothing I could say, no amount of evidence, no amount of videos demonstrating animal abuse on factory farms, no amount of me discussing maimed slaughterhouse migrant workers, — nothing appeals to people. 

They will tell you that freeing animals from testing facilities and fur farms is terrorism because they bashed some computers. They put computers over freeing animals from anal electrocution and cruel tests. That’s the world we live in. Even though fur is unnecessary in most places (not to mention one fuck of a privilege in most places) and animal testing has proven time and time again to not be accurate, people will defend the first because of “choice” and the second under shoddy science.

Among all the fuck up shit in the world people try to fix, no one can fathom the thought of NOT shoving things in cows vaginas, can NOT fathom not stealing milk made for her baby, can NOT fathom male baby cows NOT living in tiny veal crates. People literally can not fathom the idea of NOT forcing pigs into gestation crates, or grinding/gassing male chicks alive, people can NOT fathom NOT destroying the oceans eco system.

I mean, no one literally cares that scientists predicted a crash of the oceans eco system (extinction) in like 35 years because of over fishing.

I mean, i would  be a bit more optimistic if people who funded these things at the very least were animal welfarist- but even thats too much to ask. Its too much to ask that if they are going to exploit them, at least write an email to the company requesting better treatment. They just can’t fathom a tiny bit of compassion toward non-human animals-

Unless of course, someone somewhere in the world is feeding their dog a vegan diet.

Then all of the sudden they become righteous and know whats best for animals. They care about dogs and cats, the very very few vegan ones out there. You get post reaching 50k notes about meat-eaters angry someone fed their dog vegan once.

And its cognitive dissonance because cows are being fed sawdust, corn, ruminants, hormones, beer- everything EXCEPT what cows are supposed to eat; grass.

But no, make a post on that and it gets 500 notes not from meat eaters because that doesn’t peak their interest, but from other vegans who know this. So I don’t blog about veganism anymore because it broke my heart.

It depresses me.

My heart literally is broken every single time I  make a post about veganism, because I am preaching to those who already get it, and the word doesn’t cycle to anyone else, and when it does, you get jokes, hypothetical situations that are unlikely, people appropriating other peoples illnesses and poverty, people appropriating migrant workers, people who try and tell you their choice to end trillions of lives should be respected.

And it ruined my heart. 

You would think that someones right to do something ends when it grossly infringes on the rights of others, but no, not in this world.

I mean, as soon I mention “vegan” people want to say “what about people? What about x, y, and z” and they assume because I care about animals I don’t care about anything else. 

If not that, they will bring up a passage from the Bible to justify animal abuse.

If not that, then I must be privileged. 

If not that, then I must be white.

Sigh.