I resent being blamed for and associated with the careless, destructive things people sometimes do that I know I, in my right mind, would never do. Examples are countless, but the instance that came up today that made me want to renounce my membership in the species Homo sapiens was the euthanizing (killing, murder, assassination) of Freya the walrus.
Image from
Paul Watson's: The Murder of Freya
Sometimes (oftentimes, most of the time) I resent being called human.
More specifically, I resent being blamed for and associated with the
careless, destructive things people sometimes do that I know I, in my
right mind, would never do. Examples are countless, but the instance that
came up today that made me want to renounce my membership in the species
Homo sapiens was the euthanizing (killing, murder, assassination) of Freya
the walrus.
Perhaps some people were bothering or stressing the poor big gal, and
sure, someone could have ended up getting hurt, but that doesn’t justify
executing the beloved, gregarious animal. A self-fulfilling
prophecy—somebody got hurt alright—thanks to the “authorities” it was
Freya. I’m getting tired of this attitude that human life outweighs all
others—even if said life form is 1,300 pounds. ‘We don’t want people to
get too comfortable or friendly with mere animals….’
As a wildlife photographer, I’ve seen a lot of misbehavior in places like
Yellowstone National Park, where gawkers with their “smart” phones try to
get selfies with their kid on the back of a bull bison. But I was the one
of the with the telephoto lens on a tripod set up 30 yards away trying to
discourage the selfie shooters from getting too close.
The Norwegian Director of Fisheries is smug about the decision to kill the
lonely girl, saying, “we warned them…,” but they only waited 3 days before
taking lethal action against Freya. Much more should have been done to
prevent the gawking from getting out of hand.
Borrowing a line from one of the few humans I’ve admired over the years,
the Beatles own John Lennon, known for words of wisdom such as, “Give
peace a chance,” “All you need is Love” and “Imagine,” I say we use “I am
the Walrus”—a sentiment comparable to “I am Cecil,” popularized after the
impaling of a well-known lion by the demented trophy-bowhunting American
dentist, Walter Palmer.
I’d like to see the slogan, “I am the Walrus” on billboards and on signs
held in street chants to protest the killing of the obviously overly
trusting marine mammal who made the common, fatal mistake of not quite
realizing just how lousy some humans can be.