animal rights

Whitewash: The Disturbing Truth about Cow’s Milk and Your Health

farhana — Sun, 27 Mar 2011 20:00:00 +0000

Joseph Keon’s Whitewash aims to provide enlightenment on the industrialization of dairy farms: a place where happy cows no longer exist. Keon, a wellness consultant, nutritionist and fitness expert examines the production of milk while emphasizing the negative impact it has on the health of American consumers. It also helps that John Robbins, the son of the founder and owner of Baskin-Robbins ice cream company provides endorsement in the foreword of the book.

Keon builds on the fact that bone fractures and osteoporosis rates remain higher in countries with a higher intake of calcium (like the United States) and attributes this to the inability to retain the nutrient. However, he also explores a host of other potential illnesses that milk contributes to including acne, allergies (lactose intolerance) and heart disease. However, at times his scientific truth appears to be stretched as he demonizes cow’s milk to also contribute to Crohn’s disease, cancer, and infertility, not recognizing other potential factors. He also discusses obesity and the forty billion dollar diet industry.

However, one cannot help but feel that he may be part of that industry as well as he spends a chapter endorsing veganism. At times, there is simply not enough scientific evidence to place a significant proportion of the blame on the dairy industry. It is also never considered that there may be other components of milk that are causing this reaction in humans. Unless of course you consider the poisons present in America’s favorite source of calcium.

Whitewash points out the obvious existence of pesticides and natural growth hormones in milk (it is meant for baby calves, after all). However, Keon goes a step further and discusses the existence of rabies in unpasteurized milk, a onetime incident of flame retardant being mixed in with cow’s feed and other chemicals present in milk. These brief incidents in his book only weaken his overall argument as it seems a bit overreaching since it cannot be a basis for each gallon of milk in every freezer section across America. It can be agreed though that our health, physical inactivity and overall exposure to drugs (and chemicals) can be attributed to the price that we pay for living in a modern society in comparison to the rest of the world.

Essentially, a deep analysis of other imperfect industries (for instance, chicken, livestock, and the consumption of eggs) would potentially produce similar results. Keon has demonized cow’s milk similarly to the blame placed on high fructose corn syrup and the corn industry that was initially one of the scapegoats for the obesity epidemic facing America. Additionally, the alternatives Keon provides to dairy are essentially idealistic as the consumers of cow’s milk would now be relegated to investing more money into alternatives to get vitamins A, D, K and calcium which may not be feasible. International alternatives are also not provided. If cow’s milk in the United States is so detrimental to our health, does that mean that imported powdered milk can be a replacement? This is highly unlikely since so much emphasis was placed on the fat content of the milk itself.

Whitewash may not set the ardent milk consumer straight, but it will allow us to take a second look at the fat content. However, the average low/medium income family will not be rushing out any time soon to pay higher prices for calcium alternatives. Perhaps further insight on the dairy industry itself would sway the average milk drinker into sympathizing for the unhappy cows across America.

Written by: Aneesa A. Baboolal, March 27th 2011

Fear of the Animal Planet: The Hidden History of Animal Resistance

mandy — Thu, 10 Mar 2011 20:00:00 +0000

By Jason Hribal

AK Press

You may already know (and I hope you do) that zoos and circuses aren't good places for animals. But how do we know? Jason Hribal's Fear of an Animal Planet argues that we only need listen to what the animals themselves are telling us. He fills the pages with story after story of animals who "misbehave": who escape, who refuse to perform and reproduce, who attack (and often kill) human handlers. After twenty years of circus life, Tyke the elephant kills one of her captors and runs wild through the streets of Honolulu. Kumang the orangutan grounds a hot wire surrounding her enclosure and climbs out using the porcelain insulators as hand-holds. None of the orca Corky's calves survive past forty-six days, apparently victims of maternal neglect. And so on.

Key themes emerge. One: captive animals are exploited, in the full-on Marxist sense of the word. Whether performing circus stunts, entertaining zoo visitors, or breeding the next generation of performers, they create value for their human owners, value the benefit of which the animals themselves never own. Sea World is a multimillion dollar business. But it isn't using those profits to feast its whales on tuna, expand the chlorine-saturated pools, or—most assuredly—release marine animals back to the ocean.

Two: other animals can resist exploitation and slavery very much like human workers, through refusals to work, sabotage, escapes, and physical attacks. If we dare to see past species difference, and accept that animals' actions have intent, we recognize these tactics.

Three: through their resistance, animals are agents in their own history. When Tyke, for instance, was fatally was shot by police after her escape, footage of her death spurred human witnesses into activism. Two established the Hohenwald Elephant Sanctuary in Tennessee, where elephants roam unchained and unsupervised. Protests, lawsuits, and investigations into the animal contracting company that leased Tyke followed, and most significantly, some of Tyke's fellow performers were released into the care of sanctuaries like Hohenwald. None of this could have happened without Tyke's actions.

Hribal is a student of the historian Peter Linebaugh (co-author of The Many-Headed Hydra), whose approach he shares. Instead of accepting official narratives, he inverts social hierarchies and tells history from the perspective of the oppressed and dispossessed. Here, we're seeing circuses, zoos, and aquariums from the animals' side. Alas, the accounts—taken, according to the prologue, from newspapers, government and legal documents, online databases, institutional archives and a handful of earlier histories—are not individually sourced by foot- or endnotes, which strikes me as sloppy scholarship, surprising considering the author's background. It's also a criticism I'm sure Hribal's opponents will raise.

The author also makes a brief mention of alcohol use among circus trainers. In the next breath, he describes the industry as morally bankrupt. He seems to mean that circus management is utterly irresponsible in letting intoxicated handlers have contact with animals, but the phrasing is easily misunderstood to blame alcoholics ("drunkards," he says) for their addiction. I hope later editions can amend these flaws.

I want these later editions because I want nothing to detract from the challenge Fear of an Animal Planet offers its human readers. Like the best scholarship, it invites us to reject standard narratives. Instead of chalking up their behavior to mechanistic instinct, to adolescence, gender, playfulness, or high spirits, Hribal asks us to take animals' actions seriously: to see deliberate and eminently understandable resistance to conditions that the animals themselves find unacceptable, and to recognize them as fellow sufferers in a profit-driven economy.

Written by: Charlotte Malerich, March 10th 2011

Muzzling a Movement: The Effects of Anti-Terrorism Law, Money, and Politics on Animal Activism

mandy — Tue, 07 Sep 2010 18:00:00 +0000

By Dara Lovitz

Lantern Books

There isn’t another contemporary nonviolent activist movement that is so routinely dismissed as too radical, mocked as too extreme, and so actively condemned and persecuted across the political spectrum as the animal rights movement. If you believe the media bias when reading reports about animal liberation, “victims” are often corporations and research facilities that abuse and slaughter animals, and the “terrorists” are those seeking a peaceful end to our destructive lifestyles and appetites. Those one-sided attitudes are even more prominent within the legal system, which punishes so-called ecoterrorists for thought crimes without much regard for the First Amendment.

When Dara Lovitz set out to write Muzzling A Movement, she had no idea just how thwarted her own efforts would be. Seeking to interview convicted animal rights activists in federal prison, the United States Department of Justice forbade her to conduct interviews with inmates. According to the Federal Bureau of Prisons, her work—research and interviews with activists convicted under the Animal Enterprise Terrorism Act (AETA; previously known by the less sensationalist named, Animal Enterprise Protection Act, or AEPA)—could and would facilitate criminal activity. A book project about animal rights activism became one about freedom of speech and the ways animal rights activists and their allies are often silenced, even before they speak.

A lawyer with years of experience and a landmark animal rights trial under her belt, Lovitz writes with authority and candor about the history of anti-terrorism laws and the ways international animal rights coalitions have been especially stifled in the United States since 9/11. Muzzling A Movement offers an overview of legal animal persecution and how modern so-called humane slaughter laws fail to protect ninety-eight percent of slaughtered animals—namely, birds and fish. Lovitz delves deeply into both legal and activist history, and readers emerge with a newfound understanding of just how harmful the “green scare” has been to the efforts of non-violent animal rights activists and supporters.

Although there is a long history of animal advocacy around the globe, Lovitz cites 1977 as the year it became widely publicized in the U.S. following the release of several laboratory animals. In the years that followed, animal liberation activities took place across the country; from releases at university laboratories to mink farm liberations, both connected to and unaffiliated with the Animal Liberation Front (ALF), animal rights activists began a series of direct actions that gained widespread attention.

Much of the book centers on one case and several key laws, though this is not without warrant given the legal precedence and the (limited) publicity that has been doled out. In November 1999, a group of U.K.-based activists formed a coalition with the goal of closing down Huntingdon Life Sciences, Europe’s largest contract animal testing lab, where an estimated 500 animals died every day at the hands of HLS lab workers. Stop Huntingdon Animal Cruelty, or SHAC, spread to a number of countries that outsourced to HLS. Within several years, seven U.S. activists—later known as the SHAC7—were arrested after an aggressive FBI investigation. Six of the original seven were later prosecuted and sentenced to prison time, though their efforts were not in vain; the New York Stock Exchange refused to list HLS on the market in 2004, which the vivisection industry attributed to SHAC’s activism. As of this writing, several of the original SHAC7 remain behind bars.

Despite the book’s small size, Lovitz packs an enormous amount of information onto its pages. I have yet to read another such thorough history of animal rights protection law as it relates to direct action, activism, and government oppression.

Written by: Brittany Shoot, September 7th 2010

The Tiger Next Door

admin — Mon, 05 Jul 2010 16:01:00 +0000

Directed by Camilla Calamandrei

First Run Features

"Experts estimate that there are now more tigers in private captivity in the USA than there are roaming wild in the world."

This is the opening line from The Tiger Next Door, a compelling documentary about the surprisingly widespread practice of breeding, selling, and owning exotic animals in the United States. The film focuses on Dennis Hill, a big cat owner who resides in Indiana. Hill has been keeping tigers and other exotic animals since the early 1990s. The film follows his fight to keep his tigers, cougars, and bears after a government inspection put his facility in question.

The Tiger Next Door is a fascinating, thought-provoking documentary that presents a well-rounded look at the issue of owning exotic animals, raising many complex ethical questions that don't necessarily have a cut-and-dried answer. Should individuals be allowed to own big cats as pets? Just how much should the government regulate this?

Director and producer Camilla Calamandrei makes her stance clear on TheTigerNextDoor.com, with a “Take Action” page urging viewers to call for the ban of exotic animals as pets. Honestly, I'm not sure how to feel. On one hand, I am uncomfortable with the idea of keeping any animal—bird or lion—in a cage; on the other hand, doting pet owners often take exceptional care of their animals, with vet check-ups, treats, affection, and so forth. Is that a better life than living in the harsh wild? Or are we just indulging the humans that own them? What about keeping endangered animals in captivity to help restore their numbers?

Of course, it's a lot easier to care for a bird than a tiger. Questions were raised about the care Hill provided for his tigers, coming to a head in one explosive scene when Joe Taft of The Exotic Feline Rescue Center—who has taken in many of Hill's animals—argued that many of the cats were in poor health when they arrived at the rescue facility. Watching this film, I got the impression that Hill is extraordinarily devoted to his animals, although his own facility certainly had its flaws. I think if Hill is guilty of anything, it might be denial. It seemed that he couldn't bear to admit when he was overwhelmed with too many animals, which I suspect could have contributed to the alleged health issues. I think his downsized facility will make it easier for him to better care for his beloved cats, although he seems determined to add more tigers to his menagerie.

Personally, I feel that individuals should have the right live their lives as they see fit, so long as they are not causing harm. This is where the issue of animal rights comes in–if an animal is being abused or neglected, then obviously their owner is causing harm. Likewise, it is of grave importance that we safeguard humans from the threat that exotic animals pose—precautions must be taken to ensure that they cannot cause people any harm. Hill says in the documentary that he doesn't care if one of his beloved pets kills him—“What better way to die?”—and it's his right to make that choice. But it's critical that we have fair laws in place to regulate the conditions in which dangerous animals are kept to avoid unnecessary tragedies.

Regardless of your stance on keeping big cats as pets, I think The Tiger Next Door makes it clear that further action must be taken to ensure the health and safety of humans and felines alike.

Written by: Beeb Ashcroft, July 5th 2010

The Butcher and the Vegetarian: One Woman's Romp through a World of Men, Meat, and Moral Crisis

admin — Sat, 24 Apr 2010 00:00:00 +0000

By Tara Austen Weaver

Rodale

Food writer Tara Austen Weaver was raised in a vegetarian home since her birth. As an adult, she unexpectedly gets diagnosed with thyroid disease. What’s she to do? Fast for forty days? No. Go macrobiotic? Nope, not that either. Instead, Weaver must eat meat—by doctor’s order. So she turns to a carnivorous diet. What unfolds is part chick lit-cookbook and part treatise on farm animal rights.

Weaver’s introduction to the world of animal flesh brings her into contact with many meat-industry types. Some she casts in an ethical light. These include kind butchers and organic cattle ranchers. She also comes to know a charming meat blogger. Readers may object to the notion of ethical, caring cattle ranchers and butchers, but I can assure you these characters would cause anyone to re-examine their assumptions.

Throughout the The Butcher and the Vegetarian, Weaver’s writing is lively and clever. Readers will enjoy her wit and keen use of hyperbole. At one point she describes a Holy Grail-like experience wherein she smothers her steak in a rapturous chimichurri sauce.

The Butcher and the Vegetarian’s cover art depicts tiny hearts and cute cartoon characters, but the book offers up several dark and unexpected twists. One minute I was reading about pork tenderloin; the next thing I know, Weaver is describing how her mother's boyfriend molested her when she was thirteen and her two subsequent suicide attempts. Woah! Hold it right there, meat lady. I need a minute to digest!

Although surprised by the confession, I appreciate Weaver's honesty and think the topic of abuse deserves a place in the book. Weaver's relationship with meat mirrors her relationship with men. To her, meat is a very masculine experience.

In passing, Weaver mentions that she doesn't consider fish to be meat. And as for chickens, I was equally shocked to find out she puts them in the category of "almost not a meat." Still, The Butcher and the Vegetarian shares some good information about the treatment of farm animals and the truth about our (and their) sources of food. These facts are of great value to readers.

Although once a vegetarian, Weaver is no activist, and she also makes her preference for food over animal welfare transparent from the beginning. It does strike me as suspicious, however, that someone so horrified at eating a steak and so knowledgeable about the farming industry would be okay with consuming eggs and dairy. I wonder if she doesn't recognize the incongruity.

Personally, I could care less about how to prepare meat; it’s simply not part of my life. Though The Butcher and the Vegetarian is well written, Weaver lost me at each mention of fine cuts of X or a special preparation of Y. What I did find fascinating (and thoroughly graphic) was Weaver’s research visit to the farm where she witnesses the process of slaughter. She writes that seeing this occur repeatedly has a desensitizing effect, that it becomes ordinary, or even "normalized."

In my experience, there was nothing normal about it. When I was in veterinary school, I witnessed the slaughtering process several times, and the blood of those poor cows still floods my nightmares. Maybe that makes me overly critical. But it’s the truth.

Written by: Laura Koffler, April 23rd 2010

Why We Love Dogs, Eat Pigs and Wear Cows: An Introduction to Carnism

admin — Sun, 28 Mar 2010 08:00:00 +0000

By Melanie Joy

Conari Press

I will say it, here and now: I eat meat. Now that I have announced that, I fear that Melanie Joy will fly through my window to tell me how the meat industry recapitulates Nazism. Okay, I don’t really. But you catch my drift: this woman is serious.

As a person with very close vegetarian friends, and who has also purchased, prepared, eaten, and enjoyed seitan, quorn, and tofu, I would say that I have a decent understanding of vegetarianism without actually practicing it. I am not convinced, however, that Joy’s book offers much that is new to the vegetarian rhetoric.

The title led me to expect a book that delved into humankind’s history with animal relationships, that would try to scratch the surface of when and why certain animals took on specific functions in our lives and others didn’t. But rather than that, this book is focused on the psychology that “allows” humans to be comfortable with meat eating. To talk about this topic, Joy has made up a word for meat-eaters: carnists. She defines carnism as “the belief system that enables us to eat some animals and not others.” Throughout the work, Joy examines how the carnist mindset and the meat industry work together to keep animals as a dinner item despite various displeasing realities connected with the practice. While doing this, Joy describes the inhumane conditions at slaughterhouses and factory farms, and the effect that the meat industry has on the Earth.

And I don’t dispute any of that. I believed it the first time I read it, in books such as Fast Food Nation and The Omnivore's Dilemma, which Joy quotes and references an obscene number of times in her 150-page book. So much of the book is gleaned from other works that it reads very much like a college thesis paper; I suspect it once was.

Despite her legitimate arguments regarding the disgusting and hidden reality of factory farms, Joy doesn’t take into account people who raise their own animals in perfectly humane conditions or who hunt legally, or people who have any number of health issues that make a vegetarian diet anywhere from impractical to dangerous. The meat debate is a huge topic that goes far beyond the dualism of carnism and vegetarianism, and Joy doesn’t come close to covering all the bases here.

As I implied before, this book also has an irritating tendency to mention Nazis a lot. While I understand the connection Joy’s trying to make on a cerebral level, something about describing meat eating—not cruel factory farm conditions or inhumane slaughterhouses, but just eating meat—as being akin to being a member or supporter of the Gestapo is just distasteful to me.

I do applaud Joy on her willingness to acknowledge the suffering of slaughterhouse workers and others whose employment in the meat industry is dangerous and taxing. Many times, when it comes to arguments against the meat industry, I feel as if workers are under attack for earning a paycheck and given no sympathy whatsoever for the dangerous work they do. This author doesn’t suggest that the fate of the human animal is less important than other animals, and I appreciate that.

Written by: Kelly Palka Gallagher, March 28th 2010

That's Why We Don't Eat Animals: A Book About Vegans, Vegetarians, and All Living Things

admin — Sat, 27 Mar 2010 08:00:00 +0000

By Ruby Roth

North Atlantic Books

If you are planning on raising a vegetarian child who will be well-prepared to explain his or her beliefs to inquiring peers, teachers, and friends’ parents, That's Why We Don't Eat Animals is a great start.

Did you know that turkeys blush? Or that newborn quail start walking the moment they are hatched from their eggs? I didn’t, but any child who reads That's Why We Don't Eat Animals will know. Facts like these work to emphasize the connections between living things in a way that small children in the book's targeted audience (about age 4 and up, in my estimation) will understand and appreciate.

The book shows animals in their natural habitats, and explains the difference in the quality of life an animal will experience if it is running free versus living in cramped quarters on factory farms. The book also illustrates the effect that factory farming has on various biomes and the health of the Earth overall. The animals are charmingly drawn in a caricaturist, almost geometric style, and their environments are depicted with bright or dark colors, depending on their living conditions. The vocabulary is simple and straightforward, doesn’t get too dark or complicated for children, and avoids a preachy, overbearing tone in favor of a sensitive, informative one.

In another review I’ve written this month on a book promoting the vegetarian lifestyle, I’m not nearly as praiseful. The books share primarily the same messages—that eating animals is morally shady and bad for the environment—but the book for adults tends to alienate and divide, as if putting meat-eaters and vegetarians on opposing sides of a war, while the children’s book emphasizes the connectedness of living things. Whether or not the children ingest the other moral and environmental messages of the book, that one message trumps all.

Written by: Kelly Palka Gallagher, March 27th 2010

For the Love Of Animals: The Rise of the Animal Protection Movement

admin — Tue, 01 Dec 2009 17:01:00 +0000

By Kathryn Shevelow

Henry Holt

Most people seem to agree that on some level, animal abuse is wrong. Whether this judgment is applied equally across species, however, is another matter. One hardly has to look further for modern examples of animal rights cognitive dissonance than the public outcry against Michael Vick’s dogfighting ring. Overwhelmingly, the people most outraged are those who also continue to support factory farm systems that abuse cattle, sheep, pigs, poultry, and countless other animals in the name of convenient clothing, beauty products, and meals.

Regardless of how you justify these contradictions—whether or not you participate in the paradox—a book like Kathryn Shevelow’s For the Love of Animals puts the history behind animal rights into perspective. Using her training as a historian, Shevelow begins in seventeenth century England and teases out the nuances of the last few centuries of animal abuse and animal activism. While you may learn a lot of trivia—that, for instance, the word “vivisection” was first recognized in the 1707 Oxford English Dictionary—the content is by no means trivial.

Throughout Shevelow’s comprehensive account, early animal activists like Margaret Cavendish and Richard “Humanity Dick” Martin are introduced and colorful scenes of early London marketplaces are depicted. Like many accounts of gradual revolution, much of Shevelow’s narrative takes place in the streets, where animals were bought, sold, and beaten. Along the way, as animal cruelty in public ran parallel to the rise of domesticated pets, animals were recognized in humanistic ways. Animal performers—that is, dancing dogs and drum-beating monkeys—served to remind people that all living beings are less removed from one another than we’d like to believe. Animals were taken to court for crimes, and many were found guilty and executed. Even more bewildering, stories of “monstrous births” emerged in the early 1700s. While the obsession of women giving birth to non-human animals eventually died down, even these notably strange events proved that the relationship between animals and humans was becoming inextricably complicated.

Shevelow details the heinous attractions of not-so-distant times: cockthrowing and cockfighting, bullbaiting and bullrunning, dog and horse racing, ratting, and hunting with hounds. Though it’s tough to be objective, I’d like to assume that even the most outspoken, animal-hating carnivore might be disturbed by Shevelow’s descriptions. She also documents that even centuries ago, several prominent observers of animal-based amusements were deeply disturbed by what they witnessed.

She additionally makes mention of many contemporary issues in animal rights activism and vegetarian practice. Citing the story of Dr. George Cheyne, who restored his once doomed health by removing meat from his diet, Shevelow offers historical evidence that plant-based diets can have notable health benefits. There is also mention of religious beliefs that indicate souls moving between species. If you belong to a faith that believes in reincarnation, for instance, you’re less likely to kill animals, lest you become one in a later lifetime.

The book ends with the successful founding of the Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals (SPCA) in the mid-nineteenth century. As a history text, this one is thorough and happily ends on a victorious high note.

On the other hand, analysis of contemporary activism and food justice movements only receives a frustratingly short two-page conclusion and lacks a lot of analysis about the current state of animal cruelty in the Western world. Praising the efforts of typical figureheads Michael Pollan, Peter Singer, and PETA’s Ingrid Newkirk, Shevelow seems convinced that consciousness and change has advanced as it should. Maybe that’s why she’s a historian and I’m not. For me, progress can never come quickly enough.

Written by: Brittany Shoot, December 1st 2009

Animals Make Us Human: Creating the Best Life for Animals

admin — Sun, 25 Oct 2009 23:20:00 +0000

By Temple Grandin

Houghton Mifflin Harcourt

I used to work at a college with a woman who had Asperger syndrome. Because we were both far more interested in animals than humans, we would convene every morning to discuss what sorts of dogs we’d seen during our respective commutes. “I saw a large German Shepard out for a walk,” she would tell me with as much as emotion as she ever showed. In response, I would tell her stories about my cat. Without fail, she would ask about him every single day.

After spending a year of my life comparing notes with my co-worker, it was reassuring to come across the work of Dr. Temple Grandin. Grandin, a doctor of animal sciences who has a type of high-functioning autism, is widely regarded for her work to improve humane treatment of animals, including livestock. A visual thinker, she often compares her own cognitive abilities to those of animals. She has said, for example, that animals are highly sensitive to sensory detail in the same ways that she is. While not a radical animal rights advocate, Grandin is the best mainstream ally that a soft sciences vegan like myself can find. In Animals Make Us Human, she explores the ways in which humans can create the best existence for the animals in their lives.

Grandin believes that we are responsible for animals. In order to best provide for them, she lays out practical guidelines about healthy environments and debunks myths about animals’ “natural states.” She tackles a broad range of topics, from providing positive reinforcement to cats to distinguishing between captive and companion animals. She questions Dog Whisperer Cesar Millan’s alpha dog theories while admitting that his work has created a functional—if unnatural—environment for rescue dogs. Grandin’s unique blend of scientific writing and layperson language makes her writing uniquely interesting and accessible. In one paragraph, she will explain different types of dog aggression. In the next, she will chastise a human’s behavior and write, “What that lady did was terrible.”

Grandin and I fundamentally disagree on ideas like “humane slaughter,” since I don’t believe any slaughter is humane—let alone necessary. We also disagree about zoos. While she feels that zoo enrichment programs have made conditions better for animals in captivity, I can’t go near park gates for fear I’ll either start hysterically sobbing, trying to free the animals, or both—the former having already happened far too many times in my life.

Grandin also acknowledges in the book’s Afterword that she continues to work in the industry instead of protesting from the outside because, in her lifetime, conditions have radically changed. She continues to eat meat based on the conditions she saw at the beginning of her career in the 1970s. I find this a bit frustrating since thirty years later, factory farming has exploded in the Americas, and the treatment of farm animals has become shockingly bad in many places. It’s never too late to reevaluate.

I respect Grandin’s work because as much as I’d prefer that factory farms be outlawed tomorrow, I believe her advocacy does improve life for many animals. Unlike some scientists in her field, she firmly believes that animals have emotions that must be respected. My own personal convictions aside, Grandin’s books about animal-human relationships are one step forward for people who never before considered animal welfare from a practical standpoint.

Written by: Brittany Shoot, October 25th 2009

Ella Es el Matador (She is the Matador)

admin — Wed, 02 Sep 2009 09:59:00 +0000

By Celeste Carrasco, Gemma Cubero

I’m vegan. I think cruelty to animals is unnecessary and unjust. I don’t eat animals. I don’t wear them. And I don’t kill them for sport. However, Ella Es el Matador isn’t a film about animal rights, and treating it as such does it an enormous injustice. I don’t believe in prioritizing a conversation about cruelty enacted on bulls over one about cruelty enacted on women while discussing a beautiful and melancholy film exploring the world of bullfighting through the eyes of female matadors—so I won't.

Ella Es el Matador is intentionally disturbing, but not in a graphic way. While blood does appear on occasion, what I found weighing more heavily on my mind was sadness. The bullfight is not simply a sport; it is a metaphor for the sexism and machismo which oppresses women who dare to enter this traditionally male domain. Bullfighting is a business run by men, which functions just like any other, and as the female matadors make clear, if the men don’t want you in the spotlight, they have the power to keep you out of it. World Class Matador Enrique Ponce puts it bluntly by saying that women who choose to be matadors should be given praise and respect for taking on the bull, but they are no match for men.

Filmmakers Gemma Cubero and Celeste Carrasco do a nice job allowing the stories of the women in the film to unfold, and though the focus is on two women in particular— seasoned bullfighter Mari Paz Vega and newcomer Eva Florencia—the audience is aware that these two women’s stories are simply two of many. The viewer learns of the history of women in this notorious pastime, how women’s ability to participate was stunted by Spain’s alternating liberal and conservative regimes, which forced them to leave their homeland for a career in the more welcoming scene in Latin America. We hear about the victory gained by feminists who finally won the legal right to equal participation, and the limits of that legislation amidst social inequity.

The artistic quality of the film was moving. Aside from the elaborately decorative “suit of lights” worn by the matadors and the portable altars used for prayer before a fight, the viewer is given a glimpse of Eva’s near tangible love of bulls through her numerous paintings of the creature. We are treated to a moonlight serenade of the beast that calls upon the tradition of years long since gone. We are shown scars of the battles where the matador lost to the bull, an anguish that is more than just physical.

I can’t say Ella Es el Matador has convinced me to turn my back on the squeamishness I feel about this macabre and ethically unsavory sport, but I have a newfound respect for some of its participants—animal and human.

The film debuted September 1st on POV. Check your PBS listings for a chance to watch it.

Cross-posted to Bitch Magazine's On the Map blog

Written by: Mandy Van Deven, September 2nd 2009

No Innocent Bystanders: Riding Shotgun in the Land of Denial

admin — Sat, 18 Apr 2009 16:58:00 +0000

By Mickey Z.

CWG Press

I have enjoyed reading Mickey Z.’s feisty, politically charged writing in the pages of VegNews magazine and on his website and was excited by the opportunity to review his latest book, No Innocent Bystanders: Riding Shotgun in the Land of Denial. New York City based writer Mickey Z. is a “cool observer” who “likes: sunsets, rainbows and anarcho-syndicalism” and “dislikes: mean people, traffic and factory farming.”

No Innocent Bystanders is a collection of short essays, poems, parables, quotes, lists and a pop quiz that express thought-provoking commentaries on what the US Government is up to. The book opens with a disclaimer for those of us that haven’t drunk the Kool-Aid of flag-waving patriotism, “WARNING: This book has not been approved by the Department of Homeland Security. You are reading at your own risk.”

Among the qualities I’ve always appreciated in Mickey Z.’s writing is the smart, cheeky, pissed off tone. I love it when a writer unapologetically calls out the things that you aren’t supposed to, the kid pointing out the emperor’s (lack of) new clothes. Mickey calls out the “hypocritical white supremacist capitalist patriarchy” of the United States and writes with a natural sarcastic humor that leads me to nod my head in recognition at the absurdity of the systems that prevail in “the land of the free.”

Mickey Z. questions the assumptions and causes blindly supported by the average American, quietly eating what the Government is feeding. He muses on dissent, advocacy for animals, the planet and our selves and challenges the symbols we assign to speak for us. He asks if we can be anti-war but pro-troops and parallels war to “the morally indefensible and scientifically fraudulent enterprise of animal experimentation.”

There are no innocent bystanders because in this age of information, there is no excuse for ignorance. The facts are everywhere, and it is our responsibility to pay attention.

Written by: Matsya Siosal, April 18th 2009

Farm Sanctuary: Changing Hearts and Minds about Animals and Food

admin — Mon, 26 Jan 2009 11:34:00 +0000

By Gene Baur

Simon & Schuster

Among radicals and vegan activists, farm sanctuaries are well known as safe havens for animals escaping the cruelties of factory farms and slaughterhouses. Having previously volunteered at a small farm sanctuary in Massachusetts, I am convinced that face time with our four-legged friends is the single most effective way to inform other humans about the individual personalities of animals and convince people of our responsibility to overcome the habits of our speciesist culture. I also think everyone is capable of extraordinary activism in their own ways and that passing money to already successful advocates for a cause can be a cop-out. That said, I like to give money away, believe we must work as united allies for a cause, and I recognize and respect that everyone has to start somewhere.

In 1986, Gene Baur founded Farm Sanctuary, which has since grown to be one of the largest animal sanctuaries in the world. Baur came of age in the late ‘70s and early ‘80s, attending lectures by radical activist Abbie Hoffman, his then-reformed pal Jerry Rubin, and consumer advocate Ralph Nader, and throughout his education, Baur became increasingly aware of how factory farms have increasingly dominated U.S. agriculture since the Eisenhower administration. After meeting a dying sheep in a stockyard and rescuing her on a whim, Farm Sanctuary began. It has since expanded to two locations in New York and California, providing refuge for thousands of animals over the last twenty-two years, and has had a large role in heading up many of the political animal advocacy campaigns in the United States over the past decade.

Organizations like Farm Sanctuary are one critical part of the giant activist network organizing around issues of food justice, animal welfare, media, and veganism. Books like Farm Sanctuary provide a basic introduction to many of these issues, down to the sometimes-uninspiring bureaucratic details. In reality, the facts are not so complicated. Big agriculture, not unlike big tobacco, spends untold amounts of money to make consumers feel better about their choices. Massive food industry conglomerates like Kraft and Kellogg’s own supposedly animal-friendly subsidiaries like Boca Burger and Silk, makers of tasty and affordable alternative veggie meat products and soy milk. It is fair to point out that in some ways, Farm Sanctuary operates on a similarly large scale, raising incredible funds and heading up national campaigns to ban the force-feeding of foie gras geese and getting behind the recently passed Proposition 2 in California.

Baur’s writing can be touching, and his life’s work is certainly unprecedented in many ways. Throughout the book, profiles of the sanctuary residents—sheep, chickens, and pigs—compliment historical accounts and details of the farm’s success. Despite its important overarching message, the problem with Farm Sanctuary lies in the contradictions. While Baur diligently points out many problems within big agriculture, he also believes that fast food giant Burger King’s willingness to offer veggie burgers is a victory. Bargaining with local pig farmers may be the first step toward changing hearts and minds, but it also speaks to Baur’s comfort with caving to middle ground that ultimately continues to harm animals. This is not an indictment of the good work Baur has started and continues to inspire, but to not name these contradictions as they are is perhaps the biggest disappointment and largest failure of Farm Sanctuary.

This book is an accessible introduction for people who have never considered the compassionate reasons behind the decision to go vegetarian or vegan. Anyone familiar with the overlapping and complex issues of animal welfare, particularly those of farm animals in the U.S. and Europe, will not be shocked by much Farm Sanctuary offers. Those who believe a vegan revolution is our only hope will probably be (or already are) bored and dismayed by Baur’s centrist efforts. Everyone is on their own path as awareness exists on a spectrum, and along the range of resources available to animal rights advocates, the story of Farm Sanctuary is a primer that will hopefully move many towards more radical resources when the time is right for them. Hopefully, that time is sooner than later.

Written by: Brittany Shoot, January 26th 2009

Keep Singing! A Benefit Compilation For Compassion Over Killing

admin — Sun, 13 Apr 2008 13:50:00 +0000

By Various Artists

Exotic Fever Records

Beautiful art graces the cover of this album, entrancing me as I hear Gina Young introduce both the tone and ethics of the compilation. I quickly feel enveloped by the politics and clarity of these artists. I make a game of picking up on notable lyrics, such as quoting Gandhi with “you must be the change/ you wish to see in the world” and showing feminism in “eat what you like/ especially if you are a girl.” Speaking of girls, although there are some female artists on this compilation, I would prefer to hear more women rocking out on the album.

Ranging from warm acoustic ballads to intense punk rock chops, each musician sings intelligent lyrics from the heart. It’s wonderful to hear songs with substance! There is no mistaking the messages of compassion and animal rights in this album. Keep Singing! offers a breath of fresh air to thinking people sadly wandering amidst vapid pop star-worship and destruction of the planet’s resources.

Flipping through the CD booklet, I notice vegetarian recipes submitted by the artists betwixt attractive pictures of vegetables and advertisements for small, ethical companies. A vegetarian cookbook is included on the disc as a downloadable PDF file. I’m pleasantly surprised by the creativity and thoughtfulness of this project.

Written by: Jacquie Piasta, April 13th 2008

Our Daily Bread

admin — Sun, 17 Jun 2007 02:10:00 +0000

Directed by Nikolaus Geyrhalter

Icarus Films

Our Daily Bread uses visual images to show the deplorable conditions that are inflicted on animals and the toxic spraying of crops to awaken the public to the reality of our food supply. This film also shows the isolation and monotony faced by workers in the industry. Our Daily Bread was a thought-provoking film that left me horrified by its disturbing images and concerned for my family’s welfare. Unfortunately, some of the scenes were so upsetting to me that I was unable to watch them. My husband would tell me when the worst of the cruelty was over, so I could continue viewing.

Overall, I enjoyed Our Daily Bread and found it very insightful. One aspect of the film that left me baffled and a bit annoyed. Throughout the documentary, not one word is spoken. I understand the reasoning behind the filmmaker’s decision. However, the final product had too much of an artsy flair, which hampered the important message. In fact, there were several times while watching Our Daily Bread that my husband and I had to pause the film, so we could try to decipher what was happening in the scene. Our Daily Bread is definitely worth watching, but could have been a truly powerful film with the right (or any) narration.

Written by: Becky Barry, June 16th 2007

Protecting Women and Animals

admin — Sat, 20 Jan 2007 18:53:00 +0000

FemFatalities.com

As we enter into a year-and-a-half or so of political mayhem leading up to the Presidential election, we’re sure to hear a lot about top issues pertaining to women voters. Among them: healthcare. And while the issue of animal rights might not be specifically mentioned at the top of the list, it might as well be. After all, animal rights issues have a lot to do with healthcare—more specifically, women’s healthcare.

If you’re not sure about this, take a look at Fem_Fatalities_.com. A very credible, robust, and thorough site dedicated to protecting women and animals. Its content balances integrity with provocation. By that I mean that the editorial is direct and honest, and may be perceived by some as disturbing. Yet with the directness comes a high level of trust—trust that we can handle the truth and would be angered, disappointed even, by anything less.

On the home page, a spotlight on feminist icon Gloria Steinem who recently charged that the National Institute of Health is putting women’s health at risk by wasting tax dollars and conducting cruel and pointless animal testing.

The site also features various stories and investigations related to animal cruelty, campaign updates, ways to get involved, and a list of companies and charities that do and do not test on animals.

Adding to its credibility is the inclusion of high-grade video. Currently airing, a piece on primate torture at Columbia University as well as a PETA piece that is sure to make you think twice about buying certain brands of mascara. Be forewarned and enter these videos at your own risk. They’re not for the faint of heart. Of course, there’s nothing like a healthy dose of reality to affect change, and that is what Fem_Fatalities_.com is counting on.

It’s also counting on one very feminine trait: compassion. I mean, the thought that women were gaining at the expense of animals’ lives is heartbreaking. And, really, could there be anything more paradoxical?

A visit to this site is well worth the look. Not only is it an eye-opening experience, but it’s a way to stretch those feminist muscles, become active and help stop the cruelty.

Written by: Sharon R. Cole, January 20th 2007