Post by BlueNorther on Feb 6, 2004 18:53:51 GMT -5
-06-2004 07:03 AM
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This was written by a journalist in one of our local rags as the Alberta gov't deemed it was not neccassary to cancel our spring grizzly hunt.
February 5, 2004
Grizzly thought
By MICHAEL PLATT -- Calgary Sun
Left with only 73 grizzly bears to shoot, I have to feel sorry for many of Alberta's hunters.
Not because the hunters won't have enough grizzlies to kill this coming spring, not at all.
I feel sorry for many of the weekend killers, simply because no one has recognized and offered to treat what is obviously a deep-rooted sickness.
These people need help, and badly.
Sickness, to me, is the only way of explaining how an otherwise decent, ordinary person can find joy in ending the life of another creature.
Getting a thrill or rush of power from killing qualifies the killer as mentally unbalanced, be it a grizzly or gopher in the cross-hairs.
Before every gun-polishing sharp-shooter in Alberta decides to go a-huntin' for column writer, let me qualify that by saying I have nothing against hunting or fishing for food -- or clothing.
I eat beef and wear leather. And I like to pretend I'd be brave enough to kill my own dinner if Safeway suddenly shut down for good. But you can bet I wouldn't be smiling, or taking photos of the bloody corpse to impress my friends.
Gun-owners who choose to shoot their meat instead of buying plastic-wrapped rib-eye at the grocers are not the hunters I'm aiming at. Killing for food does not make you sick, it makes you a carnivore, an order to which most humans belong.
But killing for the sheer glee of it makes you a sociopath -- and far too many Alberta hunters pull the trigger to make themselves feel good, not to feed their families. Even when the freezer is packed full, there are hunters who are itching to go shooting.
For those death-worshippers who found themselves sulking over this year's limited grizzly kill, maybe it is time to go hunting for a psychiatrist in the yellow pages.
This is not about food: it's about machismo and wanting to brag about killing Alberta's most fearsome predator.
Never mind if that predator is peacefully nibbling berries and looking the other way when the brave hunter fires his weapon.
If hunting for sport had anything to do with getting back to nature, or the thrill of the chase, then the click of a camera would be just as satisfying as the squeeze of a trigger.
But it isn't, because watching an animal die is what tickles their twisted fancy.
There couldn't be better proof of how death-driven these sad, unbalanced souls are than their reaction to the limited grizzly hunt, announced this week.
Their whining started the minute Alberta Sustainable Resource Development announced this year's hunt would be be limited to 73 licences -- 28 fewer than last year -- and take place between April 1 and May 15, two weeks shorter than usual.
In spite of frightening estimates by Alberta's top biologists showing Alberta's grizzly population teetering at 500, and desperate calls for a temporary hunting moratorium until an accurate count can be made, the would-be killers whined.
Preferring anecdotal guesses from a few ranchers and hunters who've seen plenty of bears lately, the hunters lobbied for the kill to continue, and won.
But having permission to potentially slaughter nearly one-fifth of the province's remaining grizzlies, while dooming the rest to probable extinction through a weakened gene pool, is not good enough.
As soon as the grizzly kill numbers were announced, many "sportsmen" suggested the ignorant, bleeding-heart public had harmed their right to hunt.
Brushing biology and science aside -- hunters always think they know better -- some of those thirsting for bear blood even suggested the hunt should be larger than previous years.
It doesn't matter that being wrong could result in the extinction of Alberta's grizzlies, and that stopping the hunt for even one single season could make all the difference.
The urge to watch a grizzly bear die outweighs any concern for the future of the species.
If that's not sickness, I don't know what is.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
This was written by a journalist in one of our local rags as the Alberta gov't deemed it was not neccassary to cancel our spring grizzly hunt.
February 5, 2004
Grizzly thought
By MICHAEL PLATT -- Calgary Sun
Left with only 73 grizzly bears to shoot, I have to feel sorry for many of Alberta's hunters.
Not because the hunters won't have enough grizzlies to kill this coming spring, not at all.
I feel sorry for many of the weekend killers, simply because no one has recognized and offered to treat what is obviously a deep-rooted sickness.
These people need help, and badly.
Sickness, to me, is the only way of explaining how an otherwise decent, ordinary person can find joy in ending the life of another creature.
Getting a thrill or rush of power from killing qualifies the killer as mentally unbalanced, be it a grizzly or gopher in the cross-hairs.
Before every gun-polishing sharp-shooter in Alberta decides to go a-huntin' for column writer, let me qualify that by saying I have nothing against hunting or fishing for food -- or clothing.
I eat beef and wear leather. And I like to pretend I'd be brave enough to kill my own dinner if Safeway suddenly shut down for good. But you can bet I wouldn't be smiling, or taking photos of the bloody corpse to impress my friends.
Gun-owners who choose to shoot their meat instead of buying plastic-wrapped rib-eye at the grocers are not the hunters I'm aiming at. Killing for food does not make you sick, it makes you a carnivore, an order to which most humans belong.
But killing for the sheer glee of it makes you a sociopath -- and far too many Alberta hunters pull the trigger to make themselves feel good, not to feed their families. Even when the freezer is packed full, there are hunters who are itching to go shooting.
For those death-worshippers who found themselves sulking over this year's limited grizzly kill, maybe it is time to go hunting for a psychiatrist in the yellow pages.
This is not about food: it's about machismo and wanting to brag about killing Alberta's most fearsome predator.
Never mind if that predator is peacefully nibbling berries and looking the other way when the brave hunter fires his weapon.
If hunting for sport had anything to do with getting back to nature, or the thrill of the chase, then the click of a camera would be just as satisfying as the squeeze of a trigger.
But it isn't, because watching an animal die is what tickles their twisted fancy.
There couldn't be better proof of how death-driven these sad, unbalanced souls are than their reaction to the limited grizzly hunt, announced this week.
Their whining started the minute Alberta Sustainable Resource Development announced this year's hunt would be be limited to 73 licences -- 28 fewer than last year -- and take place between April 1 and May 15, two weeks shorter than usual.
In spite of frightening estimates by Alberta's top biologists showing Alberta's grizzly population teetering at 500, and desperate calls for a temporary hunting moratorium until an accurate count can be made, the would-be killers whined.
Preferring anecdotal guesses from a few ranchers and hunters who've seen plenty of bears lately, the hunters lobbied for the kill to continue, and won.
But having permission to potentially slaughter nearly one-fifth of the province's remaining grizzlies, while dooming the rest to probable extinction through a weakened gene pool, is not good enough.
As soon as the grizzly kill numbers were announced, many "sportsmen" suggested the ignorant, bleeding-heart public had harmed their right to hunt.
Brushing biology and science aside -- hunters always think they know better -- some of those thirsting for bear blood even suggested the hunt should be larger than previous years.
It doesn't matter that being wrong could result in the extinction of Alberta's grizzlies, and that stopping the hunt for even one single season could make all the difference.
The urge to watch a grizzly bear die outweighs any concern for the future of the species.
If that's not sickness, I don't know what is.
