I am a vegan (since 1999), a curious skeptic, a bookworm, a nature lover, and your garden-variety neurotic. My wrestling with chaos manifests as writing and, with my wife, tending our friends the plants and spending quality time with our rescued furry kids.
I am fun at parties (because I am never there) and so unique that I am easy to forget. So take that, modernity.
One of the more famous farmed animals to go up for auction is Bubba the Ram, who made himself quite a celebrity in the Triangle region of North Carolina after running around Durham…and doing some property damage.
We have been raising funds for his rescue and will be attending the auction to get him. He has been secured a home in the Red Dog Farm Animal Rescue Network, and we plan to get him there.
Loud music has been a part of my life for over twenty years. I have been (metaphorically) praising Satan much, much longer than I have been praising seitan as a vegan. Over the years, since going vegan in 1999, death and black metal and veganism have been huge parts of my life, and integral components of my philosophy and activism in the world.<
All the while, I have noticed the dearth of people with similar interests, finding few metalheads who give the middle finger to animal exploitation…as well as few vegans who want to bang their heads. For example, I did a death/black metal radio show, “Voice of the Grave,” for four years in college, during which time I went vegan. Not only did I never meet another vegan while on the air or at shows, but I never even thought it relevant to discuss on the air.
So I always do a (grim and grumpy) happy dance whenever I discover a fellow vegan who loves it loud. Really, really loud. And dark, preferably black.
One remarkable vegan metalhead is Samuel Hartman, the keyboardist for the black metal band Anagnorisis in Louisville, Kentucky. Besides producing some intensely dark, anti-religious American black metal, Anagnorisis boasts TWO vegans (the other is singer Zachary Kerr). I discovered them through the omnipotent polypus that is Facebook, and their latest album, Beyond All Light, has quickly become one of my favorites.
Learning about Samuel’s veganism and his efforts as a vegan advocate (thanks to a little Facebook stalking) made me curious to find out a little bit more about his world and his experiences as a passionate vegan…who also listens to and makes some serious black metal. Samuel was kind enough to answer some questions on veganism, black metal, touring, doing advocacy, and much more…
How long have you been vegan, and what motivated you to cut animal products out of your life?
I’ve been vegan since 2006–it was actually my new year’s resolution that year – and it was originally motivated by health concerns. I had been hearing about the deleterious effects of red meat consumption, and I had several friends who were vegetarian/vegan that I quietly observed and who definitely had an influence. I went vegetarian for a few months and found it easier than I expected, following it up with full-on veganism soon after.
When did you get into black metal and other extreme metal genres? And how long have you been playing it as a musician?
Many can relate to the trying times of high school: trying to fit in, worrying about self-image, all the cliques, dealing with serious relationships for the first time, etc. I was also sort of an outsider, and to “fit in” I made a conscious effort to get into metal, even though it’s the most “outsider” genre of them all! In reality, it was partly to impress some of the kids I thought were cool, to get in with them and show some edginess. A couple of those kids are still my friends to this day, and while the origin of our friendship was as cliquish as it comes, my love for metal was born and remained strong.
I found my way, like many kids in the early 2000s, through nu-metal, but because of clothing companies like Blue Grape who deftly included a Relapse Records sticker in their packages, I was able to seek out more “extreme” forms of music. I spent a significant period deeply obsessed with metalcore and stuff like Hatebreed/Throwdown, and then shifted towards black/death metal, which is where my interest really took root.
My interest in black metal started in college when I had a roommate who was able to get me past Cradle of Filth and Dimmu Borgir and expose me to Tsjuder, Profanatica, Horna, and some of the more esoteric names in black metal. With the Internet, Lords of Chaos, and a desire to find “the most extreme” it was a clear path to Norwegian black metal and all its facets. As time went on and I learned more about its anti-Christian ideology, it seemed like a natural fit.
I’ve been playing black metal since 2007, when I joined Anagnorisis. A lot of people don’t know this, but I learned how to the play the piano exclusively to be in Anagnorisis. I had some computer background, which translated into synth programming, but as far as technical ability on the keyboard, that was largely self-taught. My musical background from high school was on the saxophone (alto) which I was very happy to bust out to use on Beyond All Light. Lots of weird notes and John Cage-esque parts!
I have always felt that my veganism ties in well with my interest in black metal–for instance, seeing the problem of humanity and in particular critiquing the human tendency to just follow traditions, social norms, and authority figures blindly. What interconnections do you see between your veganism and your interest in black metal? What about contrasts or conflicts? Do you feel the two interests and lifestyles coexist easily, or is there a war of inner angels and demons going on in your head?
I think it’s interesting to discuss veganism and black metal this day in age because of the popularity of the Vegan Black Metal Chef; do people really get what’s going on there? Do they realize he’s promoting a diet that’s in vast opposition (ideologically and practically) to most Western thinking, while using a style of music that has its history in murder, Satanism, and is largely anti-Christian? I suppose that’s rhetorical, because, no, they don’t. It’s mostly a “gimmick” and fun to watch–I don’t want to demean what he’s doing–but I don’t think people truly understand the value of something like that. It helped put those terms, veganism and black metal, in some mainstream press, and we continue to see veganism grow larger and larger with celebrity influence and health-conscious eaters. Still, I would agree that veganism largely stays as an outlier (a defiance of “social norms and traditions” as you say) in the world of health and food, much less philosophical thought.
As for a more direct relationship between veganism and black metal, I’m not sure that there is one, other than both have vast subcultures that often take pride in being “different.” Black metal has very little of a philanthropic element to it; in fact even writing that makes me chuckle as “misanthropic” is often the word used by every lyricist, band, or copywriter in relation to the genre itself! Veganism is wholly about philanthropy; helping humans be healthier, saving animals, assisting the world and its inhabitants.
Then, of course, there is the issue of pigs’ blood, animal parts, and other such non-vegan entities used by Gorgoroth, Watain, etc. We played with a band in Chicago on our last tour–Luciferum–who used pigs’ heads on stage. Was I offended? Not really–Chicago’s butcher shops are aplenty (The Jungle, anyone?) and the cruelty is not done by simply purchasing these items from them. Of course, the propagation of using animals – any part of them, for any means–as a means and not as in end in and of themselves is inherently speciesist, but that’s not an argument I’m going to get into with a band like that while on tour. There’s been a fair amount of press about Mayhem front-man Attila Cshiar’s thoughts regarding animal usage while he himself is vegetarian, if anyone is interested in researching that further.
I don’t see a conflict between the two ideologies–at least the ideology of black metal that Anagnorisis follows which is to be anti-religious and play aggressive music – and the ideology that animals are not ours to use for entertainment, food, or experimentation. Both are countercultures (in Midwestern America, anyway), both require a certain discipline to believe or follow, and both have deep cultural and historical roots. I’m loyal to both, and enjoy the intersections they have, while casting out any hypocrisy that may arise by choosing my own versions of each philosophy.
Have you experienced many difficulties as a vegan metal musician? For example, flack from other musicians or fans, problems finding grub while on tour, a sense of isolation as a minority within a minority?
Not really–in fact on the last two tour we had two different venues who provided us food, and both had excellent vegan options. For one of the shows pasta and breadsticks were provided with admission, and I had asked the promoter for a vegan option, so I’m pretty sure he just made everything vegan. That means about 150 metalheads ate vegan that night! Amazing stuff.
With Zachary (vocalist) being vegan I definitely don’t feel isolated, but even if I was the only vegan in the band, it wouldn’t be a big deal. I’ve done this long enough and found enough food choices all over the place, from gas stations to Denny’s to small towns, that I can eat and subsist almost anywhere. We usually hit up the good vegan restaurants on tour, and the other guys are pretty open to that sort of thing as long as the food is good. They’ve all become accustomed to our diets and are pretty accommodating, which shows how awesome they are as bandmates and friends.
As a side note, when Austin Lunn (ex-vocalist/guitarist, now does Panopticon) formed the band he was vegan, and over the years we’ve had several vegan members, so that part of Anagnorisis has always been there. Zachary and I are also both straight-edge, along with our guitarist Zak, which honestly presents weirder moments on tour than being vegan. Imagine a metal band showing up to a venue, and three of the dudes don’t drink–at all!–that can be pretty shocking for a lot of people.
You do a lot of vegan advocacy work around Louisville, and you are a vocal vegan advocate on social media as well. What inspires you to speak out as a vegan and to try to make a better world for animals?
The reasons why I’m vegan are three-fold and in my mind, pretty simple: it’s better for one’s health to eat primarily plants, ideally whole food, non-processed plants; it’s better for the animals, and 99% of the slaughter that occurs is cruel, tortuous and unnecessary; it’s better for the planet, and I want to sustain an earth for future generations (also, I plan to live to 150 via Transhumanism).
I became vegan through my own choices about diet, but also because of the subtle, non-judgmental influence of my vegan friends at the time, including Zachary whom I was hanging out with before I moved to Louisville. It’s my aim to inspire others in much the same way, but I don’t believe that living by example is the only way to do vegan outreach. Handing out pamphlets, doing demonstrations, protesting injustice, organizing vegan cook-outs and potlucks, writing letters and sharing on social media, petitions, and even direct action: it allmakes a difference.
Different people are moved by different means, and corporations are moved by profit. Looking at groups like the SHAC (Stop Huntingdon Animal Cruelty) and Igualidad Animal (in Spain) are prime examples that sometimes, to stop animal cruelty, more “extreme” measures have to be taken. The idea that direct action is so extreme is a farce, because we take direct action every day to stop the suffering of human life. Direct action regarding animals is simply labeled as terroristic because it breaks an arbitrary law created to protect economic profit.
I say all this not to encourage illegal action or to tell people to quietly eat their tofu scramble in the break room, but to emphasize that almost all advocacy is effective to someone, somewhere. The Blackfish documentary has done an amazing job as getting people fired up about the cruelty at SeaWorld. Mercy for Animals’ Tyson investigation gave huge exposure to that issue and factory farms in general. Many cities promote dog and cat rescue which (hopefully) discourage breeding and purchasing. These are all issues under the umbrella of veganism, and it’s important, at the right time, to link them all together. I believe, as the “abolitionist” crowd is fond of yelling, that it’s important to stay “on point” and promote veganism as the end, not “vegetarianism” or “veg-friendly” or whatever. That being said, we all move at different speeds and can work to reduce suffering in our own way. I’ll even quote an Anagnorisis lyric to wrap this up: “On my terms / In my own light.”
What about Anagnorisis? Do you see any influences of veganism on the music, lyrics, images and merchandise, etc.? The music is very dark and atmospheric, with symphonic elements and yet a seriously hard and heavy edge. I am interested to know what your feelings are about this (and the anti-religious message of the band) juxtaposed with one predominant image of veganism as being all warm and fuzzy and involving lots of hugging of animals…
There’s certainly a lot of animal hugging on tour; we all love dogs and were fortunate enough to stay with quite a few on the last round. As far as veganism influencing the merchandise or lyrics, there isn’t much of a connection. It’s not something we talk about on stage or give out in leaflets at the merch table (although we used to pass out Center for Inquiry and Freedom From Religion Foundation brochures, two groups that I wholeheartedly support). Anagnorisis has never been overly political, and message-wise we typically stick to the banner of godlessness.
That being said, we certainly promote freethought and rejection of dogma, which is often the basis for carnism and the tenets of animal consumption that pervade most omnivores. The idea of an “anagnorisis,” or a moment of discovery, can certainly apply to someone who begins to peer under the veil of animal exploitation in this country. A good documentary that exposes this imbalance is The Ghosts In Our Machine, which I highly recommend.
Thanks for taking the time to speak with me about your perspective as a vegan in (and making) black metal. Stay brutal, and compassionate!
Thank you, Justin, for all you do for the animals, and for reaching out to me!
I welcome any fans who want to know more about veganism to reach out to me, or check out my blog at www.thenailthatsticksup.com Hail Seitan!
After showing up on the Our Hen House podcast last month, I also managed to sneak in (okay, not really) a feature article on how growing up on food stamps has influenced my thinking and activism as a vegan. Check it out!
I had the privilege to meet Jasmin Singer and Mariann Sullivan of Our Hen House during the most recent Vegan Night Out festivities. While they took local media by storm with a first, and then a second television news interview (one of which was a debate with the Virginia Farm Bureau), I had the chance to chat with them about various and sundry topics…and then to appear on their weekly podcast. Check it out:
It has been nearly 70 years since Donald Watson and others launched the Vegan Society, proclaiming to the world a radical idea: that humans had no right to use animals in any way, for any reason. Since then, many seminal thinkers and works have argued the case for animal rights. Peter Singer published Animal Liberation nearly 40 years ago, and we have for decades had available the works of theorists such as Tom Regan and Gary Francione. Through their work, and the work of countless “grassroots” activists of many forms, “animal rights” has become a term of general knowledge—though its connotations can vary drastically depending on the speaker and audience!
In recent years, and especially within recent months, people in the animal rights movement have begun to reflect publicly on the movement itself, assessing principles, practices, and future efforts. Of particular import in this reflection is the question of what kind of use of animals is acceptable…or is any use not acceptable at all?
This question has rippled through animal advocacy in all its forms, leading many to wonder if there are not two animal-focused movements (often being referred to as “abolitionist” and “welfarist,” depending on how the question is answered).
Lee Hall’s book On Their Own Terms: Bringing Animal-Rights Philosophy Down to Earth tackles this question head on, exploring the real message of animal rights theory and how it should be applied to animals. Through her training as a lawyer and an experienced advocate, Hall looks at the modern animal rights movement and finds some key instances in which it lacks consistency and, as a result, can be counterproductive to its own goals.
It is clear that Hall’s book is (at least primarily) addressed to other animal advocates and would-be advocates. This comes up throughout, be it in her concern to refine the usage of terms, to the proper (consistent) application of rights theory, to how to respond to various issues and campaigns, to workshops on “finding your animal rights theory” (262), to tips for creating effective vegan pamphlets.
Given her intended audience, it makes sense that she asks fundamental questions about how we, as advocates for animals, are working to end completely a millennia-old system of human domination. As Hall puts it, “The deepest and most comprehensive question for our social movement is why and how modern human society has developed through patterns of domination; and the greatest challenge we face is imagining humanity without the master role” (93).
To begin this process of re-imagination, Hall makes a key distinction between domesticated animals and “free-living” (wild) animals. She argues that “rights” are only truly applicable to the latter, because domesticated animals are inextricably tied to human control and dominion; without human interference (husbandry), these animals would not (and could not) even exist, so they can never be liberated from a system of domination (34). As a result, “animal rights” is meaningful as a term (and a movement) only insofar as autonomy is protected or augmented (191). That is, as she emphasizes repeatedly, the true pursuit of rights for free-living animals is granting them the right to be left alone.
In contrast, “Rights for purpose-bred animals would be, according to a sound theory of animal rights, a contradiction in terms” (105), and pushing for reforms of their conditions actually undermines the effort for true abolition from human enslavement. This is because husbandry reforms both perpetuate a system of domination and help corporations to continue getting public support for their commodification of animals for profit, by instilling the false idea that the animals are treated “humanely.”
Addressing, as she does, animal advocates, Hall picks out inconsistencies and theoretical shortcomings of both ends of the animal rights spectrum. On the one end, she criticizes people like Peter Singer who condone “humane” farming based on the idea that the animals do not suffer, since this is both unjust (continuing the use of animals as property) and unsustainable on large scales (because of expense and resource-usage) (62).
Meanwhile, abolitionists arguing for total animal liberation, according to Hall, often fail to recognize adequately the crucial distinction between free-living and domesticated animals, and so do not promote the rights of free-living animals over the abuses suffered by domesticated animals (83). As a result, in her estimation, they can end up drawing too much attention to abuses and conditions in which animals are used, not promoting the rights of free-living animals to be left alone as the best case for social reform.
To bring all of this theoretical discussion “down to Earth,” Hall weaves into her argument many recommendations for how to engage in consistent, effective advocacy for the rights of animals to live autonomously.
One important part of this effort is to combine animal rights with environmental laws. There is dire need for this twofold approach because humans have destroyed so much habitat, making it harder and harder for wild animals truly to live free. Ironically, Hall points out, domesticated animals are inextricably tied to this environmental devastation—be it through their need for pasture and feed, protection from predators, or for other resources (though, of course, the only blame lies squarely with the humans breeding, raising, and consuming them). Thus, the majority of our efforts should be in the promotion and protection of free-living animals and their habitats. These should be our ideals and the focus of legal reforms, Hall claims.
While pursuing rights for free-living animals, the proper response to the conditions of domesticated animals is not attempts at husbandry reforms or stopgap welfare regulations. Instead, advocates must promote a consistent vegan paradigm, which decreases (and ultimately would eliminate) the demand for domesticated animal products and so for animals who, in their very existence, are objects of exploitation. Instead of backing some new reform effort, then, advocates should put their energy into building the ranks of vegans—and building support networks that keep them vegan.
Lee Hall’s On Their Own Terms was a profoundly thought-provoking book for me, coming at a time in which I have wondered whether or not the time has passed for animal advocates of differing philosophies to have a truly meaningful conversation. Hall’s intellectual integrity, and her willingness to stick with her principles to their logical ends no matter how unpalatable to some human readers they may be, is refreshing to say the least—and desperately needed at this moment, when consistency in animal advocacy (and even veganism) cannot be taken for granted.
“Animal rights” for Hall is not so much a matter of laws and regulations, but of the right to be left alone on all levels. I agree with Hall completely on this, though I am not yet convinced that domesticated animals could not benefit from legal protections as part of a clear argument for abolition. Although they are inherently dependent beings, they are still individuals, and focusing too much on their dependency can obscure, to varying degrees, this fact, and the care and respect that we still owe them. I am not sure that the law would not be a useful tool in this aspect of a vegan campaign, though I understand how there is the risk of backfiring, as Hall argues.
The fact that I am asking myself these questions, and grappling with how my own advocacy may or may not further the movement for animal liberation, speaks to the efficacy of Hall’s argument. After all, Hall’s goal in On Their Own Terms is to make us do this sort of self-reflection as we seek to turn theory into practice, philosophy into activism. And her book is valuable for helping us to recognize that in a truly just world, animals would never need to come under the rule of human law in the first place. And that is what a vegan paradigm must aspire to…and never forget.
Image credit: Brent Rostad (own work), via Wikimedia Commons, under a Creative Commons License.
Everyone knows that nature is in trouble, and humans are the main culprit. Since at least some of us recognize this truism, we so often hear messages about fighting climate change, followed by recommendations for pretty obvious lifestyle changes: drive less, use CFL bulbs, recycle, turn down our thermostats, buy local foods, and so on. While important, these common recommendations often miss something crucial. No matter what else you do, if you are still eating animal products, then you are having a big—and ultimately unnecessary—impact on the planet in a variety of ways.
Notice I said vegan, not vegetarian. Besides continuing some of the most awful forms of animal exploitation through dairy and eggs, vegetarianism simply is not enough. Not even close. Dairy cows and egg-laying hens create plenty of environmental problems, besides their own serious ethical problems.
We know that transportation and inefficient buildings contribute massive amounts of greenhouse gases to the atmosphere. And, unless you watch too much Fox News, you also know that all those greenhouse gases are warming our planet and having many weird, worrisome, and ultimately destructive consequences. But animal agriculture is a huge player in the greenhouse-gas game as well.
A report by the UN’s Food and Agriculture Organization from 2006 laid out some disturbing facts. The report, ominously titled Livestock’s Long Shadow, stated that livestock contributed 18% of total greenhouse gases, putting it above transportation as a net contributor. That 18% of total annual human-caused pollutants consisted of 9% of carbon dioxide, 37% of methane (which is about 20 times as potent as CO2), and 65% of nitrous oxide (which is 300 times as potent as CO2). So that 18% may look pretty benign…but when you break it down, it is kind of terrifying.
I know that these specific numbers can be controversial, so I will not dwell on them…or ask you to be convinced entirely by them. But let me give you a few very real examples of how animal agriculture affects animals, humans, and the planet.
The reasons for the urgency of going vegan to fight climate change are numerous but fall into a few general categories.
In factory farms, which are modern industrial farms with lots of animals generally in confined spaces, animals frequently suffer from respiratory infections and other illnesses due to the poor air quality. Not to mention that the human workers suffer along with them, with approximately 70% of factory-farm workers contracting acute bronchitis.
Just as animal agriculture breeds hot, toxic air, so too does it harm water quality—and quantity. Farmed animals account for as much as half of water used in the U.S., and the Environmental Protection Agency has reported that waste from factory farms pollutes more water sources than any other industries combined. The toxins from animal waste are in part responsible for the dead zone where the Mississippi River meets the Gulf of Mexico, just to name one example.
All those animals worsen the air, worsen and slurp up the water, and also “consume” vast amounts of land. The USDA says that farmed animals use up 80% of agricultural land in this country; worldwide, they take up 30% of the Earth’s surface and 33% of its farmable land. Equally alarming, millions of acres of rainforest are burned to open up pasture for livestock—seven football-fields worth of land every minute. So in order to raise more livestock, we cut down trees and strip away nutrient-dense soil, making the land virtually worthless in short order.
Those billions of animals also have to eat. And eat they do…but in alarming ways. See, in our modern industrial version of husbandry, we feed roughly 70% of the grains grown here (including corn, soy, wheat, and rice) to livestock. Listen to that number again: 70%. Of plant foods that could be eaten by humans. But humans can eat farmed animals, so no need to worry, right? Think again. Animals are horribly inefficient protein sources. For every pound of flesh or secretion, three to ten pounds of grain are fed to farmed animals. So we are practically throwing away tons and tons of perfectly nutritious food. We would do better just to eat the grains ourselves—and send the excess (which there would be lots of) to starving populations around the globe, who are also going to be the biggest losers in the climate-change game. I have heard that the current amount of food grown in the world could feed as many as 10 billion people, if not diverted to farm animals and if we were better about waste.
Now you may be thinking to yourself, “Sure, industrialized factory farming is bad. I get that. No problem. But I always buy grass-fed beef, and cage-free eggs, so all the animals who give me food are happy and healthy, not eco-terrors.” This sort of thinking is widespread today, especially with the rise of locavorism, the foodie movement, and prominent “humane” animal-farmers, like Joel Salatin of Polyface Farms to name the most famous.
Unfortunately, it is wrong. Yes, animals raised on small-scale family farms have different experiences than those raised in factory farms. But these“humanely raised” animals also still harm the environment in a variety of ways. Most significantly, those grass-fed cattle may be more “natural,” but they also produce around twice as much greenhouse gas as their grain-fed counterparts and require much more land. And just because an animal product is local does not make it better for the environment. Because the production of animal foods, not their transportation, consumes the most fossil fuels and creates the most greenhouse gases, you do better for the environment by going vegan than by eating a 100-mile (or less) diet. And, of course, these “happy” farmed animals still suffer from most of the same practices you find on factory farms.
The saddest part of all is that this comes down to human choice. We are not, whatever Dr. Atkins and Paula Deen and the time-travelers from the Paleolithic Era might have told you, required to eat meat or any other animal product. Not a one. Millions of years of evolution left us as omnivores, not obligate carnivores. We can live perfectly healthy, happy, active lives without ever consuming a single ounce of animal protein. People have been doing it for years. I have been vegan for over 14 years, and I am a newbie compared to some other prominent vegans, who did it before the movement became a trend and before you could find vegan-friendly foods in your local grocery store. You can choose what you eat. Yes, you can.
And if you really care about the Earth, you must. You can bike, you can recycle, you can light up your life with CFLs, but unless you go vegan you are not doing enough.
Not only is it about the statistics, and the data, and the science. Those are readily available and overwhelmingly damning of animal agriculture. But it is also about the vision and model that we who care about the planet want to set for our global society, and for our local community as well. I believe that we humans cannot be stewards or saviors, but instead must recognize our place with all the other creatures in the biosphere. We must recognize and celebrate our interconnections and interdependencies, not try to master nature with our technologies and our hubris. That, as our wisest myths and stories tell us, is always a recipe for disaster. And the Earth is showing it to us right now.
I hear so many screams
Of terror and pain
shocked into silence.
Death in obscurity and shadows
Produced on an assembly line
Manufactured in factories,
of flesh, blood, feather, bone
And pools of blood and feces
To bathe in on every square inch
Of the cold hard concrete floors.
The whir of the machines
The pneumatic jab of the bolt gun
The buzz and sizzle of electrical water,
All things hardwired into the machine.
Teeth clench and lock and whirl
Wheel within wheel
Of satanic mills whirling
Vortexes sucking in flesh
Choice cuts separated
And the rest shipped overseas
But worth something
Sold or rendered
To minimize waste
For better returns on the dollar.
What is the price
Of each life severed?
Where does that figure
Into corporate projections
And stock-market ratings?
Are the costs of those lives
As the necessary costs
Of the machine at work,
The assembly line running
From field to table
from seed to fork
from soil to stomach?
I want to see them.
Show me the balance sheets.
Show me the assembly line.
Let me hear their cogwheels whirling.
Let me hear the teeth, the gun, the steely screams.
Let me know how your fortified food factory
Runs like a well-oiled
Under the iron fist of your
The doors of your factory are locked.
The windows, like mistakes on the factory walls,
Are barred, locked, sealed, covered.
There is barbwire atop the chain-link fences.
The security guard is armed and refusing access.
(And are those snipers on the rooftop?)
But all I want is
The grocery-store packages, boxes, cans
Are dumb witnesses
Silent like the guards outside your factories—
I know because I have asked them,
Inquired in vain
For you have them well trained,
Like the people shuffling down the aisles,
Through the PR department
In which life becomes a widget
And then becomes a trope,
Farm to machine to idyll,
Built atop a humming machine.
Are now all clocked in
Standing in their places
Along the line, day to day,
With no overtime, awful wages,
And sure as hell no benefits.
For they too are expendable,
Wheel within wheel
Object upon object
Along the line, day to day.
I can hear the screams
Of the wheels, of the widgets,
Standing here beyond the arc lights
Outside of your fortified factory farm.
Let me in
let me see
let me hear.
Let me know.
For I am not a part of your machine.
[Author’s note: This poem was written shortly after the passage into law of Iowa’s “ag-gag” bill, making it a criminal act to take photos or video inside of animal agriculture operations. Other states have passed similar laws, all within the umbrella of the Animal Enterprise Terrorism Act.]
Image credit: Thomas Bjørkan, from Wikimedia Commons, under a Creative Commons License.