The world, or at least the World of the Internets, is
furious with the Minnesota dentist who stupidly killed Cecil the Lion. (How you shoot a huge lion with a tracking collar and claim to think it was, literally, fair game, I’ll never know.)
Trophy hunting is just an ego-centric pastime for men and women who are living some sort of Great White Hunter fantasy. While I’m no fan of trophy hunting, I think we should save some vitriol for ourselves. Sure, it’s a tragedy to kill huge majestic animals in Africa, but we’re killing off plenty of important species every day, albeit in a much less showy fashion.
In most cases we probably don’t even know we’re doing it, but once you start looking, we’re killing plenty of animals in our daily lives. (And I’m not talking about the meat-eater vs. vegan debate.) Do you like cookies, sweets and snack foods? Chances are they contain palm oil, which is devastating forests in Indonesia and Malaysia and is killing orangutans. Tuna fish sandwich? You’re probably also killing sharks and sea turtles. Even though many of these species don’t look as impressive when they’re stuffed, they are vital to the biodiversity of our planet. Learn more about what food choices you can make and what else you can do so you don’t slaughter animals the way a trophy hunter does. And as usual, you can find more links here on my site.
[earnest female voice over]
Cecil the Lion, a magnificent beast killed by a heartless Minnesota dentist.
Let us not forget the others, many others, cut down in their prime.
Hello, I’m Beatrice the Toothfish.
My sister, Shelley, was killed after a fish-hunter from Los Angeles renamed us “Chilean Sea Bass.” We were quickly overfished, all for a tasty trophy on a dinner plate.
Michael the Bee— confused, disoriented and ruthlessly killed, so an orange-hunter in Chicago could have perfect rind.
Vernon the Frog— wiped out without a second thought, so an accountant in Arizona could commute in a safari vehicle, climate change be damned.
Clarence the Polar Bear— killed by mercenary politicians who for years have shot down regulation of coal-fired power plants.
Henrietta the Tuna— brutally killed with countless others, so a podiatrist in San Francisco could line his shelves with cans of plenty.
And Harold the Orangutan— driven from his habitat and killed, all so a family of junk food hunters could feed their habit.
Shelley, Michael, Vernon, Clarence and all the others . . . remember, not all trophies are King of the Jungl— [when she says “jungle,” she gets a fish hook in the lip and yanked off screen]