Personal Freedom and a Big Side of Beef

I was watching this program on TV the other day about animals in some free-range zoo, and that weird animal guy from David Letterman was hosting. I didn't have the audio for the program, but that's the funny thing about animal shows, you don't really need to hear the dialogue. As they showed how the lions were fed, I thought about how unnatural it all was. There was this ridiculous truck painted in zebra stripes carrying a load of raw meat chunks zipping through the park, the lions all in a frenzy chasing after it. As if the lions might be fooled by a big hunk of metal sporting a deep mechanical whir, however creatively painted. As if chasing a truck around for a few minutes might somehow approximate the hunt. Incidentally, my dog also chases after me when I have his food dish in hand, but he knows I'll eventually put it down and let him eat. The lions that were bred in this environment would probably never survive on the plains of Africa. Besides, they've probably acquired quite a taste for beef, something they'd find little of out there. But it made me wonder if they realize they're not free, despite the zookeepers' obviously herculean efforts to make the environment as close as possible to life on the plains. Sure, these lions might not be locked up in a cage like their more unfortunate brothers and sisters, but they are enclosed nonetheless. And if they realize they're not free, does it bother them? Perhaps the lazy lions in the pride like the fact that they don't have to hunt. Perhaps they really don't mind the weather in, say, North Carolina.

Suppose now that this great big ball we live on were in fact a massive terrarium, we the animals in some intergalactic zoo. Or the pets of a far more intelligent, though benevolent being. (I give our to-our-knowledge-imaginary captors the benefit of the doubt. After all, that's how we like to think of ourselves in terms of our own zoos, though I have my own ideas about that...) And all our paltry endeavors into space and beyond were viewed with a sigh and a motherly shake of the intelligence-housing center (how specist to say ‘head'). "Look," they'd exclaim, "they're trying to escape again. Tsk, tsk. They don't know it's for their own good." You will perhaps say that the two situations are not comparable. That other beings don't interact with us the way that the zebra truck interacts with the lions. Well, what if your "acts of God" were in fact alien intervention? Miracles the result of aliens lending a helping hand (or limb, or digit or ..whatever)? Manna from the sky like beef from the intergalactic zebra truck? Well, I didn't really mean to open that can of fresh wiggling worms, so let's move on, shall we?

My point is not to indulge UFO or alien abduction or even cattle mutilation theories, but rather to ask how the knowledge of your captivity might change you. Wouldn't it change your outlook on life radically, and permanently? Even if you could do nothing about it; even if it never made one iota of difference in your life, even if everything would be as it always had been, would you not feel just a little cheated? That somehow your life was being manipulated or tainted by an unseen hand, digit or limb?

Perhaps it would be better to remain ignorant of such knowledge. Would you be like the rabbit, thriving whether wild or in captivity? Could you, would you be tamed? Content? Complacent? (And how do you feel about petting?) Would you demand your freedom to roam that big scary world outside, or simply demand better food and amenities on the inside? Because the world outside is scary, isn't it? The unknown. It's terrifying. There are those who crave the adventure of pushing the boundaries, like our curious and brave astronauts. They're the ones who would break out of the terrarium to explore the master's closet, fly the coop in search of true blue skies and a carpet of dense green trees. But there are many more of us who are content to watch life roll gently by from the little windows of our little apartments in our little towns.

If you think that human nature demands freedom, consider this. How often do we allow ourselves to be enclosed, restricted, cut off, from some very basic psychological and emotional needs? How often do we allow ourselves to be emotionally or psychologically ‘held captive' by a domineering, brutalizing, or demoralizing fellow human? More often than we'd like to admit. We let our husbands, wives, brothers, and mothers, even bosses and friends hold things over us, make us feel guilty or subservient or worthless. Or we become so wrapped up in competition with others that we become trapped by numbers, dollars, all the intangible, arbitrary things that hold no indication of intrinsic worth.

Now forget about the psychological and emotional stuff. Let's get base. Sometimes we don't even realize the physical bondage. In a way, we've already been tamed. Taught to accept, to expect these enclosures and cages. Closed in our cubicles, our offices, our glass jungles. Trapped by barriers we half invent ourselves. Time constraints, financial barriers, obligations. Trapped in big metal boxes on the 405. But we have to do it, right? That's life. It's being a mature adult. It's accountability. It's responsibility. It's enough to drive a person mad, turn her into a homicidal maniac with a gun and a sick sense of purpose. The funny thing is, we do it to ourselves. Forget about alien intervention and intergalactic space zoos, we're driving the zebra trucks in our own terrarium!

There's a whole world out there many of us hardly ever touch. Maybe if we could just get outside the pettiness of our daily lives once in a while we'd be happier, healthier, and more like the lions out on the African plains. Perhaps we'd get trampled by large elephants in a wild stampede, or starve to death because we're lazy, but dammit, we'd be free.

Copyright 1997 Jennifer Chung
All rights reserved.
And so on, so on, so on.



Why do I eat meat? It's not because I don't love animals. I do. I just hate vegetarians.


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