A Meditation on Violence

Dostoyevski, Orwell, Žižek et al have written far more compelling meditations on violence, but I figure I’d have a go at it (being a british-muslim near-sighted pacifist and all), and this all in time for Christmas and for many of my American readers having just celebrated Thanksgiving.

To draw parallel’s between the American pilgrimage and their genocide of Native Americans would be didactic and predictable. Any person outside America, as I do, who enjoys the opulent fruits of American culture best not critique the ways in which such seeds were brought forth. War equals land, and we, collectively the human race, have landed. If the Native Americans had their way, Americans would all be in England right now; and trust me the NHS is okay, but the weather is terrible. So, we won’t talk about war.

We will, however, talk about turkey fucking, or “fucking turkeys” (hereby FT), depending on your course of rhythm. Let not the picture suggest that I am not serious here, because I am. There are many websites (in overlap with the porn industry) that feature “extreme content,” one of which I occasionally browse for “research purposes.” I came across my leg many instances of FT, all featuring random men penetrating game and manipulating them for dire purposes (poultry in motion is too cheap a pun, even for me). At one point, the man seen above holds the turkey by its wings to neutralize the amorous momentum imposed on it, such that it does a cute (can I use “ironic” here?) turkey dance. By 1:06 sec he removes the bird and ejaculates the conventional non-bestial way. When FTing, one hopes the bird is thawed to room temperature, perhaps even pre-heated to mimic body temperature (not that I ever considered, I’m just a thorough thinker).

Yes, I have a point. From now until Christmas everyone around you — your co-workers, your extended family, your friends — will sort of do a collective consumerist freak out and either a) feel obligated to buy gifts for others so they are not deemed patriotically or morally corrupt, or b) feel entitled to receive gifts, being the angels that they are — and this is not just some cynical view. What is cynical is that we need instructions on when and how to be nice to each other, and that the cued exchange of our humanity rests not on our actions, but on our credit cards. Why stick your head in the sand when you can stick it in the shopping centers. Economics is the only new land left, follow the western world far enough and you’ll run into China.

“Black Friday” refers to a Friday in America during Thanksgiving, when many stores will open at 12:00AM offering device-fully limited extreme discounts which will invariably lead to the trampling death of our less agile. The phrase originally referred to the American financial crisis of 1869, and the word black (in line with our racial etymology) is not used as a term of endearment. Don’t worry though, it seems all Black Fridays eventually lead to a White Christmas. Except for Holland, where it is tradition to dress up as blackface to represent Zwarte Piet (Black Pete,) Santa's little African helper from early folklore of Saint Nicholas. Ironic or just racist?

From Orwell’s “All animals are equal, but some animals are more equal than others,” let us gather that turkeys are not as equal to us. Humans have a way of taking what is not theirs, until, with those perennial acts of entitlement, it becomes theirs (and to think Turkey was the Ottoman Empire). To read Das Kapital is to buy it first (now can I use “ironic”?). I’m no Grinch, when in university I would buy the gifts I had to buy and wrap them horribly. I would suffer through this for two years, weaving past the inappropriately happy people. Talk about taking a birthday party too far. I do believe that Jesus lived, that he was a profound and good man, just not that he had risen. Myth and hope are often the same thing. In short, I’ll see you in hell.

I hate to end this on a Freudian [butt] plug, but are you Fucking or Being Fucked? Maybe it’s both. The gravy train never runs dry, as the gentleman aptly demonstrates at 1:06. Have a merry Christmas, and hand me that napkin.