Not Anonymous

I'm reading this (quite long) article in the NYT titled: "Can Animals Be Gay?.

What an absurd thing to ask.

That question simply reflects science's own human biases.
Who said the life sciences were objective?

Nothing can be spoken about without subjecting it to human categories. We're so used to everything being about us, that we've forgotten that we're a part of it.

Evolution is a tricky beast. It's the reason why it's so interesting, fascinating and ultimately, the only way you can explain the diversity found within animals (human included).

The biggest misconception regarding Evolution is that we're going somewhere with it. That the changes that have gone on for billions, millions and other large sums of years, are progressive. There is no proof, nor is there any way to prove, that our gradual changes, that the fact that we have retained an appendix and Wisdom teeth - commonly known as vestigial organs, as far as this lay person is aware - are positive changes. That is, we have no way of knowing whether we are actually better equipped for "survival" than we used to be.

"Survival of the Fittest", "Natural Selection" - possibly the two most disastrous terms to ever be written and adopted into human functionalism.

I'm digressing.

Are humans animals? ( Come on in and find out )

I was talking to a friend of mine about vegetarianism (seeing that both of us are) and I was saying that it was the industry of meat and how environmentally damaging it is. Not to mention that a huge amount of crops are grown just to feed the future steaks, burgers and what-not and that those crops could be grown to feed, ya know, people.

So far it's all well and good, but when I mention that I think humans are more important than animals and that I care more about human rights than animal rights my friend says: "I'm really shocked to hear you say that".
Shocked.
Seriously?!
The fact that I prefer my own species better over another? (except cats of course, but then again, they are Gods upon the Earth).
How is this shocking?
Someone explain to me, how is saying human rights are more important that animal rights, shocking?

Anyone?

Last night.

Half-past one in the morning.

I'm turned Frida off and walked the short distance from our lounge to my bedroom when I heared the distinct sounds of an insect knocking against things in my room.

Methinks: Oh a large moth has entered my room. I shall switch on a light in a different room so that it may leave.

As I formulate this plan in my head I enter my room and see that this moth is in fact not even related to Heterocera.

It was in fact a flying Blattaria - in English - a Cockroach.

Methinks: AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH! OH MY GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOD!! JESUS FUCKING CHRIST THERE'S A HUGE FUCKING ROACH FLYING AROUND MY FUCKING ROOM!!!!!!!!!! AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!

It being quite late at night I kept these thoughts to myself.

Wish was bloody useless, staring at the monstrosity as it flew around my room in order to find a good vantage point so that it could kill me in my sleep. I'm certain that was it's satanic plan as it flew in my window at a time I would have been asleep.

It took me about fifteen minutes to even return to my room - for some reason I grabbed my hand bag and was clutching it, I then discarded that for a rolled up piece of Newspaper which is a marginally better weapon against roaches.

I opened my door every few minutes to see if it flew out.
It didn't.
And me, I'm all alone, I really can't go waking up any one of the masculine gender in my house at the moment because it was two fucking a.m. in the morning.

When I next opened the door I saw that it had gone to the floor and was no longer flying around - thank GD *shudders* - so armed with a Newspaper, I grabbed one of my Dr. Martens and stood ready for the huge fucker to leave my room, which it did because it obviously smelled me *shudders again* and as it approached I pounced!

I killed the bastard, fucking smashed the life out of it.
The first roach I've killed in about four years - for some reason during my stint of boot camp, when I was 18 and wet behind the ears, I was designated critter killer with the rest of my platoon. Despite the fact that every time an insect came into our room I shrieked along with the rest of them... it's just that I could kill it while I was shrieking.

I generally don't like taking the lives of things, but roaches (and incidentally mosquitoes and flies) are fair game.
They're the ones who will inherit the Earth anyway, but as long as I'm here they can have an eco-system that doesn't include my house!

I'm still shaken up and everything that moves in my peripheral vision looks like a huge Gregor Samsa to me.

It's at these times when I hate the fear that has been culturally imprinted onto me, this fear of insects which intellectually I know can't hurt me, but scare the shit out of me! I can barely look at them, with their brownness and in the words of Cordelia Chase "their antlers".
Gah!
But I can kill them alone and that's what counts.
Right?