Another Chaotic, Media-filled Found Post - Chickens!
(Source)
Putting things in perspective - Alex Wooley’s Office Job/Battery Hens
“A response to the similarities between many office working conditions
and battery farmed hens.”
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I’ve just started listening to a new podcast, the Dawn and Drew Show. This podcast embodies for me those moments you experience with good friends, possibly slightly inebriated, in the middle of the night where everything is hilarious and you can laugh freely about the smallest things. And silliness ensues. I highly recommend it. After listening to several episodes from their archive, I came upon an episode where Dawn expresses her grief over the lost of their two ‘pet’ chickens. I entirely respect these wonderful hosts, but I have to say that I found it interesting the way in which the irony of their paradigm allows them to feel such passion and love for a “farm” animal, while they continue to eat meat with relish, as expressed in another episode where they gushed about over-eating the ‘meat’ of chickens and other animals at a Brazilian Steakhouse in San Francisco.
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Via Living Vegan (video):
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Via Vegan Soapbox (video):
Joanna Lucas of Peaceful Prairie Sanctuary, writes:
Everyone remained still and silent until Chris climbed into the van and started gently lifting one by one into Michele’s cupped hands. Then, in one instant, the entire group went into a blind panic. They ran to the back of the van screaming, swarming, climbing on each other’s backs, trying frantically to hide or escape, huddling together for a shred of comfort, an extra millimeter of protection, an extra millisecond of existence, still attached to the mockery we’d made of their lives, still trying to save them, still hoping (for what?).
As gently as we handled them, held them, cradled them before putting them on the straw-covered ground, they still cried out in fear for their pathetic only lives. That was the only sound we heard them utter that day and for many days to come – the sound of fear, pain, despair – the tragic record of a life of torment. And, with each rebirth, with each new bird lifted from the bleakness of her past onto a free future, we felt both the giddiness of life that was released at last, finally free to become, and the weight, the call, the tug, the stab in the heart of the lives left behind, still trembling in fear, still stirring faintly with absurd, irrepressible hope.
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By morning, she took her first stiff, self-willed steps, her first astonished steps into life that was finally free to begin. She stepped into her free life quietly, easily, the way we step into our vegan lives – not as though entering a new and foreign world, but as though returning to a deeply familiar one, as though coming home.
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