cellini's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- An '-Ism' is for the civilized. Which I am not. It all feels like too little, too late. I was just reading the latest issue of Saveur and I wanted to throw it at the wall. Some horseshit about what different types of duck tastes like and they were describing mallards as 'gamey' - AS IF THAT WORD MEANT A FUCKING THING ASIDE FROM SLOPPY BUTCHERING. And the article went on to discuss other types of duck in a similarly misinformed, horseshit sort of a way. And then there was another article where some asswipe chef opened it bragging about having gone boar hunting in the Black forest. Sorry, but pig hunting in Germany is bullshit. All hunting in Germany is. A platoon's worth of tards in stupid outfits drive a lot of pigs through the forest so that other tards in raised platforms can shoot at them. 2 out of 50 people actually get pigs and they do a little dance and congratulate each other and the meat gets sold to a butcher store. Congratulations, dipshits. It took 50 people to get 2 fucking pigs. You can't hunt for shit. Sorry, but I find this shit so depressing. What I'm teaching and writing about and doing for this possible TV show is real hunting for food. No bullshit, no made-up bloviating idiocy. Actual subsistence hunting that real people can do and real cooking with the fruit of those efforts. And I am constantly seeing these fucking morons around me who are competing to present this type of content and they at all completely full of shit. Oh, you're a big man. You went on a vacation and killed one fucking pig with 50 people to help you in a country where nobody from the wrong social class is even allowed to hunt. You fucking pussy. It just really hurts to read this retarded bullshit, written by people who casually drop all sorts of mentions of their high-end kitchen appliances and affluent lifestyles. You fucking idiots are trying to write about hunting for food? You don't even know what it means. Hunting for food - really hunting for food, when it matters. That means transforming yourself into something you wouldn't even recognize. It means turning yourself into something that looks at a doe standing in a field and literally salivates a la Pavlov's dogs. Its not funny. Its not quaint or cute. Its brutal. When I see a prey animal my entire brain clicks off from what it was doing and enters predator mode. I smell the air and my nostrils flare and my eyes widen and I move to crouch. I imagine the stalk and the kill. I imagine killing this living thing in a brutal way and hungrily devouring it. That is what it really is to hunt for food in the long run. These fucking tourists should just shut the fuck up. They have no idea what they are writing about. I don't hate the prey. I don't want it to die. Yet I do want to kill it and eat it. Its a complicated thing. This is why I laughing inside when my producer was talking about the question of whether a network could cast someone else to do what I'm doing for this show. You don't fucking cast this. No actor signs on the dotted line and starts doing this. This isn't something one can just do. Its something I am. I *am* a predator. And I do ruthless things in the course of hunting for food and writing this book and making this show that someone without this background of desperate hunger couldn't just walk in and do. These tourists who try to write about this shit for magazines and newspapers just fucking infuriate me because not only do they lack the knowledge to write intelligently about their subject, but they lack the predatory instinct and the hungry desperate eyes and the soul-wracking mixture of guilt and pride of a real carnivore. Not guilt for having killed - but guilt for not even feeling guilty. The death of the chicken or pig or whatever they've skipped off for the weekend to dispatch was a side-show to them. At best, they felt a twinge of guilt over having killed. But its not real predation. No, for that you've got to *need* the kill. You've got to have hungry children waiting in a cold house in the dead of winter with a bank account of zero. No different from the wolf with a den full of cubs. Except perhaps in the sense that the wolf is blessed never to question it. 'I am hungry. I kill. I must.' That is predation. And nothing that any of these tourists write - and yes I include Michael P0llan in that - even begins to touch that. Its never going to go away. Even when the poverty does, I don't think that anything will ever erase what has been done to me by virtue of the circumstances I have found myself in during the last few years. I will never feel completely comfortable again as a human being among other western, civilized human beings. This is, I think, the reason why I'm very readily accepted by people who have been hunting their whole lives even though I started as an adult and have little in common with their culture. I never have to deal with any of the razzing that I've seen other people in my situation go through. It's because I've crossed a line as a hunter and I'm now a fucking savage at heart. None of the really experienced lifelong trophy hunters I've met have had this same brutal instinct. They hunt for 'fun', not out of need. And they spend some time with me and they can tell that there is a difference. I met some immigrants from the Congo last year and for the first time I saw the same thing in other human beings that there is in me. We understood each other perfectly. We were all predators. We all had the hunger. Predation isn't just something you do. Its something you are. And maybe the general public would be better off not finding this out. You know, I don't have anything against vegetarians. But increasingly its like they aren't even there to me. I look at that and think, "you wouldn't last 5 minutes in the wild." I feel much the same way about vegetarians as a wolf must when he picks up the scent of a domestic dog. Where it really counts, you hardly even exist. Vegetarianism is a conceit of the civilized. As is most every sort of '-ism'. And I am not a civilized man. 11:58 p.m. - 2010-10-10 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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