Monday, January 02, 2006

Welcome to the Jungle

Welcome To The Jungle - Animal Farm 2006

When George Orwell wrote his great opus, Animal Farm, much of the world, including England, lived in rural society, much closer to farming and livestock than is the case today. So it made sense to couch his allegory of government and politics with barnyard animals.

Today, the world is an altogether more, and paradoxically, less civilized place, so we're less connected to pigs, cows, horses, and chickens personally, while far more violent and undomesticated species seem like old friends.

So how to describe things in our modern condition? I can't pretend to be anything like the writer Orwell was, but certain things seem very clear at the moment.

Our opponents from the Open Borders Lobby have the reasoning capacity of baboons. Like baboons, they travel in packs. They chatter and clamor and invade space. When challenged, they show thier teeth. The hurl rocks, their own feces, and make a helluva racket. When left alone, they blanket any high ground they're left to inhabit with a cacophony that challenges sanity, raise prodigious broods of fellow baboons, and in their own minds, are masters of all they survey.

Only when faced with determined and fearsome opposition do they show something other than their teeth -- thier asses.

The bulk of the society is rather benign. They are the zebras, antelopes, and giraffes of most of our civilization. They meander, they chew grass, and they provide a rich variety of color and pattern without really bothering anyone. They don't challenge the baboons, because the baboons really don't matter much to them, and they prefer to live and let live for the most part.

Then there are those like us. The large cats. Leopards, cheetahs, and lions. Seemingly a terrible thing. All tooth and claws, blood dripping from their lips, the smell of death about them.

But without them, the entire landscape would soon be entirely baboons.

Because the cats keep the herds healthy. With more precision and ruthlessness than Charles Darwin could ever imagine, the cats prowl about, picking off the stupid, the lazy, the sick, and the weak in the herds. And quite literally, recycle them into the fastest, the smartest, and the strongest big cats. Day and night, in their every waking moment, they thin those from the herds who can't see, or hear, or move fast enough not to become, in the Latin term for the frailest species in the world - breakfast.

A system of all cats would soon starve. There'd be nothing to eat then but the chattering baboons, who when challenged by the big cats snarl, hurl rocks and feces, and eventually, when cornered, show their asses and run for the tall trees. Cats would stave on that diet.

But what the touchy feely Bambi-loving world forgets is that so would a system of no cats. Without the hunting cats, the herds would be sired by the fat, the weak, the lazy, the stupid, and soon overpopulate the area, then all die agonizing deaths from overgrazing while multiplying blind, crippled, weak offspring in droves. They need the predators to thin their ranks of those Nature has not endowed with the best attributes.

Thus the big cats provide a balance. Their fastest eat the herds' slowest, their brightest catch the herds' dumbest. Weak cats starve, and weak herd members get eaten. And the best hunters recycle all that substandard antelope and zebra flesh, turning them into the cute and fuzzy cubs, offspring of their best and brightest hunters. Both sides survive in glorious harmony, and both combined keep the baboons a small, chattering clump, living off to the sides near the trees lest they be trampled, or eaten.

The Open Borders Lobby is a pack of baboons. We are lions. And the idea of letting hordes of illegal aliens nest among us is a weak, stupid, blind idea that needs to be weeded out of the herd, forever.

Dinner, anyone?

-Aesop Mysleeve