Killing Thanksgiving
I’m no trypto-fan. I find something a little more than vaguely disturbing about eating a turkey – hell, any animal – that was essentially manufactured and then killed by unknown parties in unknown ways and left for me to scavenge from the bottom of the Grocer’s freezer.
See, I’m a Carnivore – not a Scavenger. I like to kill my own food – or at least see it being killed – before stuffing it in my mouth.
That doesn’t mean I’m not a foodie either. This Thanksgiving I opted to make apple stuffed pheasant with a brandy/sage orange marmalade glaze.
But I went out into the fields of South Dakota, and SHOT and cleaned the pheasants - personally. Over the next few weeks I hope to cleanly and humanely fill my freezer with Venison for my red meat fix. Somewhere along the way I will also add rabbit, squirrel and feral hog to the mix – though I will likely have someone else smoke the hams and bacon for me. Who knows, I might even take up turkey hunting, but I’m dang-sure not going to find a Butterball strutting around the woods.
People have lost touch with their food. Most Americans – Urban Americans in particular – have never actually participated in any meaningful way in any aspect of the food production cycle. They are Scavengers, picking up the food left for them by others.
The whole concept of what a Harvest Thanksgiving means has been lost to the generalities of “I’m thankful for what I have” rather than “I’m thankful that between Providence and Hard Work I’ve killed and grown enough food to last the winter.”
There are people who get this though. They are the folks in the Small Towns & Farms of America without whose efforts America’s hands-off food factories fail.
It would be nice if the Politicians stopped making it harder for Farmers to Farm, for Hunters to Hunt, and for Fisheries to Fish. You can’t regulate what you don’t understand - what you have never done - and Washington should stop trying.
Thanksgiving is not about Eating, it’s about Killing. Be thankful that there are those out there willing to kill – so you can eat.
Without them, the Scavengers will only have themselves to feed on.
Labels: Culture
