Wednesday, January 20, 2016

Why am I hunting ?



I am often asked : « why do you hunt ? ».

Which means : “why a smart and nice guy like you is having fun killing innocent animals ?”

I hunt because I take full responsibility of the death of the animal in my plate, unlike all people who think meat is growing in supermarkets’ freezers and who would like to ignore concentration camps-like conditions of the industrial cattle raising they are funding 365 days a year.



“Non conforming” ducklings, once identified, are dumped alive in a mechanical grinder.

I hunt free and wild animals in surroundings favorable and familiar to them. Animals which are not made blind and encrazed in totalitarian stallings where they never see daylight, where they are force-fed with antibiotics and hormones and deprived of their living beings dignity as if they were inert material, where any tiny spark of life is denied to the profit of a mass food-processing industry plagued by technic and intended for an overpopulated world of globalized unregulated free market, undertaker of the souls of all, human and animals.

I hunt with a modern firearm, reliable, fast and powerful, because there is no equity between me and the game, no “fair-play”, no “sport” or such double-tongued assessment. Hunting is no sport and doesn’t justify itself with sickly sentimentality. Hunting is an ancient act of picking where death is the final goal and where man is weaving an unexplainable link with the very essence of any life form. As a hunter, my duty is to put the game to death in a quickly manner and without sufferings, unlike this video, one among dozens available on the web, and showcasing animal sufferings and ill-treatment required by all “nice” non hunting people around earth.

I don't hunt “to get a breath of fresh air”, “walk my dogs” or to “enjoy Nature” as sometimes claim some hunters, smashed by the sense of guilt of a whole society looking for scapegoats to animal abuse, which is a disgracing behavior I never witnessed for eighteen years I’ve been hunting. Even if it sounds paradoxical, hunters do respect animals.

I hunt because I accept my true human condition and its ancient heritage. I’m no “Green Party citizen”, no fan of “green tourism”, or any other rubbish selling point intended for lobotomized “Outdoor” merchandising adept who thinks the mystery of the world is contained in a sport supermarket price tag. Standing in front of the slaves of Fake, I am the free man of ancient law, the one who bears a weapon.

I hunt because dark blood runs in my veins and because I can hear the calling of the sacred oak, because wilderness is no amusement park to me but the ground for Mystery, the wild beasts home, the sanctuary of ancient lords and heroes, the temple and the garden of ancestral Gods.

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