Seal Pups

I'm really over this Pop-Star hysteria over the seal hunt.

People lament the killing of these cute, cuddly little seals. This particular writer in the star complains that the seals killed are all under two years of age.

And? They aren't toddlers. It isn't the tragic story of lives cut short, of prosaic days of seal-y lounging on the beach, looking cute and fluffy, with Sam the Seal cavorting with his oceanic friends, going on adventurs with Shamu and Bob the Polar Bear.

Come on. They're animals. The problem is they're so damn cute and fluffy (of course, they aren't killed when they're whitecoats, but people seem to forget that.)

No one objects to the daily slaughter of cows, pigs, and sheep. No one really complains that my yummy steak was from a 2-year old cow. God, last week I ate 20 chicken wings with a few pints of beer. 10 chickens died to make my snack (and I thank them for their sacrifice). How many protestors are out there picketing the French Embassy in communion with the countless slimy frogs and snails that go into French snacking?

My roommate in college studied genetics, and used to perform all sorts of unspeakable mutations on fruit flies - you know, eyes growing on their legs, wings growing out of their butts, that sort of thing - but never did you see Paul McCartney protesting that!

Either you are against the hunting/killing/mutating of animals, or you are not. You can't pick and choose just because a seal pup is a hell of a lot cuter than a lungfish.