On The Zoo

Fuck the zoo. I can’t stand zoos. The entire concept is absurd, yet every single major American city and a handful of minor ones contains some form of animal enclosure that they call a zoo. To be clear, I’m talking real zoos here; the ones with actual animals in them. Not some bullshit lizard zoo, or some guy’s garage in Tacoma. 

I never used to have an opinion on the zoo. I knew they existed and every half decade or so, I’d be forced into visiting one against my will simply because I couldn’t come up with anything better to do. I assumed I hated them because they were boring and jarringly expensive. While they are both of those things, what I hate most is that they exist. 

I’m not an extreme animal rights person by any stretch of the imagination, but I do feel bad for a large portion of the animals found in the zoo. None more than the vicious killer animals, trapped in a tiny enclosure, gawked at by stupid children and their gormless parents. The cruel fate that they should suffer; a meal, served voluntarily without reservation, stymied by a few inches of glass. You may argue that the pens they reside in are spacious and provide a sense of consistency that they wouldn’t experience in the wild, and I argue that is my very point. 

“…the true secret to eternal youth, is in the powdered testicles of would be poachers.”

We, for the sake of feeling good about “conservation,” or providing a “safe space” for animals, have removed the option to live a free and wild life from that animal. Yes it might be harder, and it most certainly will be more dangerous. But, for a majestic beast designed for the entirety of Africa, Alaska, or all of the Amazon, a half acre behind glass is disrespectful. Imagine this animal, it’s every instinct screaming to sup on the tender meat of the Smith family and their cotton candy and corn dog combo. Their drool soaked novelty tee-shirts mocking the beast with their unearned sense of safety. 

Yet, it is denied. 

Not that every animal is a concern for me. There should be a pen with farm animals, and other assorted dipshit animals that can’t do anything but be adorable. Pandas and penguins. Sloth and prairie dogs. They all should be contained in little cages and fed corn pellets until they die while people watch with feigned awe. They contribute nothing, and they understand even less. Flying animals. Predators. Anything that can move more than thirty miles an hour. These animals have no business being locked up. 

People might complain, “Oooh, I don’t understand Lions because we don’t have any here in winter in Duluth. Meeeeh.” But I say, tough shit. Here’s a video of a Lion casually ripping an antelope in half and eating its babies. Now you understand why we haven’t got any. Oh, and it’s thirty below fuck-off and Lions require heat to live. Go look at the squirrels. Then there are the conservationists. They’ll say, “We need to protect these animals. They are nearly extinct!” Yes. Agreed. But protect them from what, exactly? 

Fucking, us! 

Humans poaching animals for their bits to sell to other humans. Or humans buying a dozen cars per person to drive a quarter mile to buy animal bits shipped around the globe overnight. This, turning the world into a toxic wasteland, that’s too hot to live in or grow food in. You’re telling me the solution is to put these glorious animals into jail to protect them from the people who put them there? That we need to convert an animal that we have nearly run out of into inventory, just to keep my dentist from shooting it in the face, so that said dentist can take his kid to the zoo on his weekends and dream about shooting said animal in the face is yet another complete failure on our part. 

What’s the solution? Well, there’s too much money in zoos to close them, so that’s out. We’ll never stop needing animal bits to feel like we look young again. So, what? I say that if we have to keep zoos running, open the enclosures. Let the animals that hunt to survive have a fighting chance at a decent meal. Little Ava and Adixson want to see the bird show at the aviary? Fine, but they’ll see it from the talons of the Golden Eagle that is carrying them back to its nest to be devoured. 

Also, we need to convince the rich, famous, and dumb that the true secret to eternal youth, is in the powdered testicles of would be poachers. That should sort that problem rather quickly, I’d imagine.


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