The 2084 Precept

by Anthony D. Thompson

  "And why do you create these zoos, Peter?"

  "We do that so that our human offspring can gawk at the animals, some adults too. But usually only once or twice during our lifetimes."

  "You put these animals into prisons for the whole of their lifetimes, just so that you can look at them once or twice?"

  "Yes, that is precisely what we do. As I told you Jeremy, we do whatever we want with them. We don't think there is anything wrong with it. It is our God-given right, you see. We also capture animals in order to put them into cages in places we call circuses. These animals are put through strict training programs to force them to perform tricks which go against their nature, but which are fun for our offspring to watch. And because the tricks are unnatural ones, the training has to be strenuous and disciplined and it frequently involves the infliction of pain as often and as severely as necessary. For example, the only way to get an elephant to do a handstand on command, Jeremy, is to train it by beating its genitals and ears with an iron bar. This usually works. The animals are then released from their prisons from time to time and compelled to perform in a small arena in front of screaming human children, after which we lock them up again until the next performance."

  "You do this to them, destroy their lives, just in order to amuse your children?"

  "Mainly yes, but there is also a sprinkling of adult humans who like to be amused in the same way."

  And do you really need to amuse yourselves in this way?"

  "Need? No, of course we don't need to, Jeremy. The problem lies with our mentality, we convince ourselves that we do need to do it, we need to amuse ourselves and our offspring in this way. It's real fun. We have decided that other forms of entertainment, those not involving animals, do not constitute a wide enough variety for us on this planet, and so we have to do this as well. Plus, they're only animals, what on earth is all the fuss about? That is our attitude toward the whole matter, Jeremy. Same as with the animal actors."

  "Animal actors?" asked Jeremy. He wasn't raising his voice, he was clearly interested, but there was a touch of bewilderment about him, amazement perhaps, maybe even stupefaction.

  "Yes, well…we also capture animals and transport them here to be actors. Mainly chimpanzees. We also imprison them in cages of course, put them through disciplined training programs, dress them up in our clothes and force them to be actors in our movies and commercials. Very funny, we think."

  "And may I ask," said Jeremy, "for how long you force them to do this?"

  "Well, in the case of chimpanzees, they last about six years as actors. At around that time they become too strong-willed, too willful. Too stubborn. And so, as thanks for their contributions, we then either kill them, or we put them behind bars for the remainder of their natural lives. Which can be for up to around forty years."

  "Poor unfortunate creatures," murmured Jeremy.

  "Perhaps, Jeremy, but those animals are the lucky ones, believe me. We do far worse things. We put other wild animals into even tinier cages and these cages are in places we call laboratories. Cold, barren, lonely places. Minuscule cages. And we permanently hold over 200 million of them like this, including primates, and they never, ever, see the light of day again."

  I finished off my water, went and fetched another bottle from the table, brought one for Jeremy too.

  "These creatures are locked in and subjected to horrific experiments, living a life of such pain, fear and loneliness that it is impossible for us to imagine. Not that we attempt to, of course, we are not interested, why should we be? As I have mentioned, the human being uses them to test the effects of things like new household products, new cosmetics, new medicines and anything else he feels he would like to test. These animals are forced to inhale toxic fumes, they are subjected to corrosive chemicals, they are force-fed pesticides, they have electrodes and other objects surgically implanted into their bodies and also into their brains. And they are often operated on, sometimes repeatedly, usually to remove a certain organ or organs for inspection. Many of these creatures are also dissected and, whether you want to believe it or not, sometimes while still alive. Those animals which don't die as a result of these loving ministrations end up being poisoned, blinded or worse, and any survivors are killed afterwards anyway. Others simply die from the cancer or other horrific illnesses we have injected them with. The end to a life of psychic terror, incredible pain and heartbreaking loneliness. Many of them literally go mad, they spin around and around non-stop in circles, they rock permanently back and forth, many constantly self-inflict major wounds by repeatedly biting themselves, and most of them shake with unimaginable terror whenever a human being walks past their minuscule prison. And this life of theirs can, and often enough does, go on for as long as fifteen years. Or even more, for all I know."

  This really was hard going. Really hard. Jeremy was now just sitting there looking at me. He wasn't saying anything, anything at all. Another swig of water, carry on.

  "All of this happens in company laboratories, private laboratories, university laboratories, school biology classes and so on. Much of it is subsidized by every single one of us taxpayers, thanks to the decisions taken by the birdbrains, flap, flap, as to what should be done with the taxpayers’ money. As you can see, this is something we humans really excel at, torturing and killing. We are really very good at it, very good indeed. And I include myself, I am part of the human machine, I pay my taxes."

  Jeremy had now decided he had another question. "But surely," he said, "not all of you hold these views? Some of your fellow humans would describe your views as an exaggeration I would think."

  "What views?" I asked.

  "O.K., the facts you have mentioned. Surely some of them are overstated?"

  "No, they're not. You'll be doing some research, Jeremy, you'll be able to check it out."

  "But I would nevertheless still hazard the guess that there are plenty of humans who view these facts in differing ways."

  "Oh yes, you're quite right on that one Jeremy, quite right. There are plenty of people who view this whole thing as fully justified. They say the suffering is exaggerated by, wait for it, ‘do-gooders’. These people hold directly opposing views to those who would like to have it all stopped. But there it is, you see. Never has the human race ever agreed on anything, there is nothing we won't argue about. Look at our politicians, flap, flap, any day you want, in any country you want. Arguing, arguing, arguing and arguing; that, basically, is what they do. And sometimes we do our arguing with weapons, then we call it war. And so yes, there are those who support all of this, the terrible torture is O.K. if it's for the benefit of the human race, these things are necessary, a bit unfortunate for the victims, but there you go, life is tough. And even if I were to mention other examples, I could take the bears, there are still those who would say how terrible it is, and there are still those who would say but that's just the way it is, that's the way it has to be, it's all unfortunately necessary."

  "The bears?"

  "Yes, the bears. Let me tell you about the persecution and torture of the bears, broaden your picture a little bit for you, Jeremy. This is a form of criminal torture which only the fascinating human race could be capable of, yes, and like all other activities it requires the involvement of the usual three types of human being for it to be able to occur. Just a reminder as to what the three types are. First of all, the torture of the bears is formally approved by the various bunches of pin-striped assholes who run things on this planet, we simply cannot function without them by the way. Flap, flap. The torture itself is then carried out by those among us who are happy to do it, usually for money—and there are always plenty of those about no matter where you care to look, and no matter in which era you care to look, including today of course—and finally there are the masses, the majority of the population in each of their applicable regions, who have freely elected the sit-on-your-ass birdbrains into their secure, well-paid positions, in order for them to do, more or less, whatever they want."r />
  I looked directly at Jeremy. He was sitting there quietly, adjusting his tie, patiently waiting for me to continue. A moon-shaped poker face.

  "On this planet, Jeremy, the masses actually believe they have a say in what goes on, because they are allowed to vote. Not for whomever they wish, oh no—they are given a small list of names from which they are allowed to select—but they truly believe that they have a hand in influencing events. And then they find out that the guys they voted for have lied to them, they have not done what they had faithfully promised to do, they have also done what they had faithfully promised not to. They have committed immoral acts, sexual and otherwise, they have sent young people off to get killed in faraway wars, they have even started wars themselves for goodness' sake. And then they—the masses—start to complain. Which they shouldn't. They should keep their mouths shut. They put these guys into power, they stopped their opponents from putting their guys into power, they are the ones who caused it all, they should therefore quite simply shut up. But all of that, Jeremy, would be another story."

  "Coffee, Peter?" Jeremy asked.

  "Thank you," I replied with a nod. Coffee relieves depression. I think.

  "You were going to talk about bears," Jeremy reminded me.

  "Yes, well, and I'll try to keep it short. Frankly, this is also relatively depressing. What happens is, we capture lots and lots of bears and we put them all into cages. Cages designed not to allow them to move at all."

  "Designed not to allow them to move at all?"

  "Not at all. And when putting them into the cages, we make sure they are lying on their backs. We do this so that we can easily drill a hole into their abdomens."

  "Drill a hole into their abdomens?"

  "Drill a hole into their abdomens, Jeremy. This enables us to insert a tube into the hole and ram it into their gallbladders. The purpose of this is to be able to extract the bears' bile, an extremely painful experience for the bears and let's not forget that they can't even move, which all animals, including human ones, would want to do in a desperate attempt to alleviate the suffering. At the same time, specific organs are sometimes surgically removed from the bears without, it goes without saying, the help of anaesthetics, no point in wasting time and money, is there? After all, the bears can't move."

  Jeremy remained perfectly calm and collected while I was describing this delightful human activity. I guess some forms of insanity can have a restrictive effect on emotional reactions. But he was certainly staring at me, possibly in disbelief. As my father would have said—he was from Lancashire—his eyes were standing out like chapel hat pegs. Of course, my father couldn't know that chapels would not have hat pegs nowadays. Or that most of the chapels would no longer be called chapels.

  "And what kind of a purpose does this serve?" he asked.

  "None," I replied. "None at all. The birdbrains authorizing and performing this torture believe in a myth, an age-old doctrine which maintains that the bile and the organs have useful medicinal applications, that they provide certain medicinal benefits. But this is total crap, scientifically proven crap, please forgive the choice of phrase, Jeremy. And in any case there are strong and efficient chemically manufactured products which provide far more powerful benefits than would be possible even if the quacks’ false claims for the bile and the organs were true. Which they are not.. And so the bears are subjected to this horrifying treatment over and over again for years on end, and, great though the ongoing physical agony is, it is nothing compared to the mental agony which they have to suffer. They undoubtedly go mad in the same way as the monkeys do in our laboratories. Except that with the bears you can't see it. Because they can't move, you see."

  "And so how many bears do you do this to? And for how long do you do it to them?"

  "Oh, the average number being tortured in this birdbrain-approved horror movie is about 10,000. At any point in time. And they live like that for periods of up to 20 years. Can you imagine having to live a life like that, the torment involved, the pain, the terror, the immobility?"

  "No," said Jeremy slowly, "no, I can't."

  "Nor can I Jeremy. Nor can the sit-on-your-ass representatives of the masses. In fact, they call it bear-farming! These are bear farms! And bear farms pay taxes, old chap! Yes they do! Everything is fine, perfectly in order, well justified, thank you very much."

  "So you were wrong when you said it serves no purpose. It in fact provides a payoff, money, for both the perpetrators and the approvers."

  "Jeremy," I said, "you are right. That is exactly what it does. And the same goes for all kinds of animal torture, including the silver foxes and the rest."

  "The silver foxes?"

  "Yes Jeremy, the silver foxes. It's only one more example, I don't know why I mentioned it particularly. But here is the news on the foxes. On average we hold about 100,000 silver foxes in captivity at any given point in time, waiting to be killed and skinned, sometimes even the other way round. And this is a more cunning kind of torture. The silver fox is a 'running animal', an animal which requires continuous movement, it's part of its nature. So what do we do? We put them into cages. But not just any old cages, oh no. These cages are about 1 m2 small, all wire mesh including the floor. No toys, no stimulation of any kind. In one way the foxes are luckier than the bears, they can spring up and down and around and around in their prisons while they become insane. And whether this is a temporary or a permanent kind of insanity, we will never know, it's not something you can check up on after you've killed them. And they call this fur-farming! These are fur farms! And they also pay taxes, whoopee, better believe it!"

  "Fur farms."

  "Yes, Jeremy, just as with domestic cats."

  "Domestic cats."

  "Yes. China, the world's largest exporter of fur products, skins about 2 million cats per year, not to mention hundreds of thousands of dogs. The pelts are sold overseas or to their own domestic textile industry and end up as decoration on inexpensive fur hats and jackets and winter shoes, and as tassels on berets and so on. This created a huge scandal in Europe last year and caused more than one well-known clothing chain to withdraw certain products from its stores. These products' fur had officially been described as 'manufactured fur'."

  "Two million every year," said Jeremy, "that sounds a lot to me, Peter. Where do they all come from?"

  "The majority are bred in so-called fur factories. Their short lives are spent squashed together in terribly cramped cages and they are killed as demand requires by a knife cut to the groin. This allows them to bleed to death without damage to their pelts."

  There was a knock on the door and the dream appeared carrying a tray with a pot of coffee, sugar, milk, two cups. She was an impossible creature, damaging to the eyes, grave risk of excessive optical dilation, dangerous strain on the iris, cornea, retina, whatever. Where and how did Jeremy find her?

  "Mr. Parker, sir, I was making some coffee and it just occurred to me to ask if you and your visitor would perhaps care for some?"

  "Why yes, thank you Miss Goodall, very thoughtful of you, much appreciated, kindly just leave everything on the table here. Thank you so much."

  "My pleasure," said the dream, didn't even look at me, well why should she, her laptop at home was running out of gigabytes, clogged up with details of male acquaintances. Or maybe female ones, who knows…now there's a nice erotic thought to help carry me through the remainder of today's session. And then she did her trick again of retiring fast, noiselessly; a smooth personal assistant indeed, elegant, sophisticated for sure, cultured, doesn't intrude, but I got a quick look at her legs this time, man oh man.

  Jeremy poured the coffee and handed me a cup. I checked the window again, great, sun still there. I won’t tell him that the humans also eat cats, I’ll just leave him with the monkey brain example. But wait a minute, wait a minute, I do have a question here.

  "Jeremy, you never called for coffee. Don't tell me you were up to your mind-influencing games again, computer-hacking Ms.
Goodall's mind? Tell me you simply forgot and that it was just a coincidence her coming in, correct?"

  A bright look lit up his face, his eyebrows lifted in an enquiring manner, his mouth spread itself into one of its polite smiles, but he made no comment, just took a sip of his coffee.

  "Peter," he said, "I think I get the message. You kill billions of animals and you torture millions more of them before killing them as well. And you do it all the time and in vastly increasing numbers. Now as far as I am aware, there are few, if any, dominant life forms in the universe committing these kinds of atrocities on their fellow inhabitants, none that have appeared in my studies anyway, and none that I have ever heard of. I really don't think I need any more examples thank you. It doesn't make for pleasant listening and presumably you are not exactly enjoying the telling of it yourself. I'll be researching some of this of course and if I need another example or two, it sounds as if there will be plenty for me to choose from."

  "Yes," I replied, "there will be plenty for you to choose from, don't have any doubts about that. And if I may make a suggestion, why not add a little color and interest to the text of your thesis? Why not try animal pornography?"

  "Animal pornography? Did you say animal pornography?"

  "Sure," I said, "certainly I said it. You'll find it via the Internet, no problem. And if your computer were not properly secured, you would be receiving non-stop emails with some fairly disgusting attachments illustrating the subject. Animal pornography is alive and well in most parts of our world and some of it involves torturing the animals to death as part of the sexual act. And if your professor is not averse to a modicum of black humor, factual black humor I hasten to point out, then you should take a look at the country I live in. As in several other parts of the planet, Germany has a law forbidding the distribution of animal pornography, but—wait for it, Jeremy—there is no law forbidding the act itself! Flap, flap. Another of the birdbrains' masterstrokes. True! And as a consequence there are animal bordellos in Germany! Believe me. Check it out."