I Love All God’s Creatures

wpid-footprints_original.jpegI just watched the first few seconds of a video that is making the rounds, and was able to ignore all the ignorance in it for only a short time. I’ll include the video below the fold, but essentially, this was a woman who was wondering if dogs had brains or not, because they don’t talk, much like computers.

What made me cave and quit watching in favor of blogging about it was her comment that, despite her seemingly total fear if dogs, she loves all of God’s creatures. This comment annoys the everfuck out of me, and I figured I would discuss it to get the raste of ignorant, privileged non-biodegradable idiot girl out of my mouth.

You do not love all God’s creatures. You love several, perhaps. If we limit the term “creatures” to only refer to  animals, then that means there are millions of different types of animals that you profess to love.

There are, amongst then, many icky animals. There are animals that eat shit all day, like our good friend the dung beetle. They make giant balls of shit and walk around shoving their shitballs to their homes, where they nosh on it until they need to find more. Do you love the shitball shoving dung beetle?

There are animals that are genuinely cruel. Now, that’s judging them by an unfair standard as humans, and passing our moral judgments on them, but how can one not see cruelty in the parasitoid wasp whose larvae are injected into a host. In some cases, the host is paralyzed, in other cases, the animal is mind-controlled to force it to eat hearty to ensure that the parasites have lots to eat. In either case, the host acts as their nanny, shelter, and ultimately, food source. The larvae have evolved to know what parts to eat first so that the host remains alive and nutritionally viable for as long as possible. Here’s a yummy video!

Suffering again from the desire to anthropomorphize behaviors, we can say there are many mean animals. Animals like that cutie, the Bottlenose dolphin. Despite being cute and making cute noises and rescuing drowning sailors (cutely), they are also horrible shits who kill for pleasure, engage in both rape and gang rape, and are happy to even get rapey with humans. I would point you to this post, 10 Reasons Why Dolphins Are A$$holes.

Cockroaches. Earwigs. Mosquitos. That fish that swims up your pee-hole. Botflys. Cannibal chimpanzees. I could go on and on and on. The point is, you like a small subset of furry little mammal-pantses what are the cutie-wootest guys, and maybe a few reptiles for kicks as well. Nobody hates otters, but nobody who isn’t a researcher could possibly love the hookworm.

But don’t feel bad. Contrary to what Sunday School told you, you aren’t supposed to like them. Your brain evolved to give you one of two default thoughts when encountering something new: there’s stuff that’s like me and stuff that’s not. Stuff that’s not is far more likely to kill you in some horrifying way, and the fact that it hasn’t is, at least from your perspective, a good thing. Your brain knows something you clearly do not, and that is that God isn’t a part of the equation. Survival is the only thing your brain cares about. When you have your face ripped off by dogs, it isn’t because they weren’t invented by God, it’s because a predator attacked what it viewed as prey. Your brain smartly has set up a natural defense by remembering that those things hurt you, and making you not want to be around them anymore. Survival.

Also, you’re an idiot. Dogs don’t talk, but that doesn’t mean they don’t have brains. Yes, a computer doesn’t turn on unless you tell it to. You can’t power down a dog and expect it to ever turn on again, no matter how much you tell it to. Lady, I genuinely hope you don’t vote wherever you live.


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About biguglyjim

Like a caterpillar that spins a coccoon and emerges as a walrus with a mohawk, Big Ugly Jim has become something unexpected. Raised a fine young Christian boy in the city of Calgary, Alberta, Canada, Jim began to question his teachings, first evaluating the wisdom of other religions and eventually realizing that none of them seemed any more accurate than any other, and not a one of them made a lick of sense. Today, Big Ugly Jim is a musician, a Business Analyst with Large Oil Company Whose Name Is Not Important, a music promoter with the Calgary Beer Core, a writer of fiction and non-fiction, a prick, an atheist, a father, an ex-husband, a role model, a horrifying vision in a red speedo (or at least he would be, if ever that happened which IT WOULD NOT), an announcer, and soon to be an officiator of weddings. Also, he's nice and does dishes. Jim continues to live in Calgary, spreading his filthy doctrine of free, critical thinking and appreciation for music.

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