The Unspeakable In Pursuit Of The Uneatable

[poliphilo]

There's something about a prospect of green fields and cows that makes us Brits come over all flobbly-dobbly.

I'm thinking of All Creatures Great And Small, The Vicar of Dibley, Heartbeat- TV shows about warm-hearted country folk, where the worst that can be said of anybody is that he's a lovable rogue.

I blame Wordsworth, myself. All that stuff about learning lessons in morality from the lesser celandine.

But then the country comes to town in the shape of the hunt supporters. Miners or anarchists yelling their hatred at the police is in the natural order of things, but wizened old ladies in green wellies?

The MFHs and the big landowners say there'll be civil war. They have eyes like lizards and snarl in the accents of privilege. A rich man issuing threats is a chilling sight.

Of course its not as simple as country v town. A lot of country people hate the hunt. And a lot of huntsmen are rich townies who have run away. One of the leaders of the protesters is the son of Brian Ferry- the rock star.

The Queen has asked Prince Charles to stop riding to hounds. Apparently (no love lost in that family) he is disregarding her advice. What a silly, romantic fool he is. Trust him to side with his "set" against the will of the British people.

Hatred of the hunt is hatred of the big man on the big horse. As visceral as that. It's been in our blood since the Norman knights rode down Harold's hus-carles at Hastings. Odi et amo. Ooh, you brute.

The hunt is a wonderful spectacle. An unopposed cavalry charge. Red coats against green fields. Yap, yap, yap. Taroo, taroo.

Comments

[sorenr.livejournal.com]

As I have stated above I am fairly indifferent to this matter, but hey; I'll argue the other side, then:

Female mutilation is wholly un-natural and an entirely cultural, man-made concept, whereas a fox being killed by other animals is not unlike the way things would be, had humans not interfered with wild-life. Animals kill each other, and it isn't always pretty. Thus your argument of "How would you like to be ripped to pieces by dogs?" becomes invalid, and it is merely a matter of whether we should orchestrate such natural cruelty or only allow it to take place on its own as happens in nature all the time.

With the argument turned into a question of whether humans should orchestrate and interfere with nature, issues such as urban development, motorway routing and so on becomes far more important issues, and yet they receive none of the attention that a few fox-hunts do. One might therefore accuse the anti-hunt protesters of aiming their guns at the lesser target; of attacking the easily identified enemy, rather than tackling the pressing issues that currently influence English flora and fauna.

Hmm... the above was merely an attempt at pretending to take your bait, but I guess it only goes to show how irrelevant I find the hunting discussion; it takes up far too much space in public debate and other, more serious, issues are left in its shadow... Ah, well. Anyway; I quite like foxes. There used to be the sweetest little urban fox (probably rabid and whatnot, but cute) in my old neighbourhood; every night at 11pm it would make its round, knocking over the odd bin up and down the road. This normally coincided with my last cigarette of the day, smoken on the pavement outside the terrace, and so I really developed a sort of one-sided relationship with this creature. Antropomorphisation...

[poliphilo.livejournal.com]

Oh yes, this is just the beginning. The hunting lobby is threatening terrible things.