Anti hunter editor of the Mt Olive Chronicle mouths off:
http://www.recordernewspapers.com/a...les/2008/12/15/mt_olive_chronicle/opinion/columns/doc4941fe028357c998961620.txt
The thrill of the hunt is back
By Phil Garber
Published: Dec 12th, 7:00 AM
It’s deer hunting season again and isn’t that just wonderful.
I say that all hunters should be hunted down.
I’m not a Jainist but I have never been able to understand why anyone would enjoy killing a manhunting deer or a ferocious rabbit. I understand when people hunt so they can have something to eat but I have never met a subsistence hunter in Morris County.
Maybe if I was filming a segment of “Survivorman” and I was dropped by helicopter in the middle of the Sergenghetti, 300 miles from the nearest McDonald’s, maybe then I could understand hunting.
But I know of no Morris County Serenghetti, no matter how hard I look and how much I squint.
I guess hunters say they enjoy the skill and the challenge of the hunt. I think that may have been a valid point when people hunted with rocks.
But today, with high powered scopes, high powered bullets and camouflage that puts a chameleon to shame, it is hardly a level playing field.
I really can’t abide hunters who climb up 15-foot stands and wait for the deer to pass by so they can blow their brains out. The challenge I suppose is to make sure the Ipod is turned down so the deer doesn’t get spooked. Real sport, that is.
This is real mano a mano stuff. I mean it’s man or woman against the wild and wily deer, those creatures who not many years ago were just a step removed from their blood dripping, carnivorous relatives.
I imagine I am a deer, grazing quietly on some sun drenched day in the Black River Wildlife Management Area.
I am thinking about my children or about my 401K. Maybe I am just admiring the gorgeous sunset as I swallow down a tasty mouthful of grass.
And suddenly I have been eliminated from existence by some yahoo with a rifle that is the size of a Howitzer.
As a deer, my only sin has been that I exist. I am, therefore, I die, to paraphrase Rene Decartes famous saying about existence.
My other only sin is that I am an easy target, my little fluffy white tail swaying with the breeze. If the tables were only turned and just while you were about to take another bite of that cheeseburger, blam, you’ve got a six-inch hole in your back. What about that, macho hunter?
I can easily see the deer riding by, with their human catches tied to their roofs as they brag to each other about the six-foot human they got.
And they get home to admire the heads, stuffed and majestic, sticking out over their mantles.
Then there are those hunters who claim they are doing a public service by ridding the roadways of the deadly, car smashing, carcass bashing, deer. I don’t know if the same rationalization applies for hunting rabbits, squirrels, chipmunks, mice, birds and frogs, ferocious and hazardous though they all may be.
I understand there are as many traffic accidents caused when frantic motorists swerve to avoid crushing the wayward titmouse.
Titmice beware.
If hunters want to do a public service, they could dish out soup at the homeless shelter.
So why do hunters hunt? Why do they spend fortunes on apparel so they can look like a character out of “Deliverance.” Why do they get up before dawn, in freezing temperatures, and wade out through hip-deep swamps or climb up 10-foot tall stands, and wait for hours until their fingers turn blue?
I suspect it is because they are overcome by the same animal instincts that govern their prey. They just like to kill and feel superior.
I suppose that those who follow the same instinctive instincts are probably around the same intellectual levels.
I have never heard the expression “as dumb as a deer” but it would seem to apply, based on the expressions of those deer who wait in the middle of the road for the cars to pass, those deer with the patented “deer in the headlights” appearance.
Hunters will likely never have bumper stickers bragging about their honor roll days.
And I am really suspect of the skills of hunters. Something tells me that a hunter need not be a Rhode’s Scholar to be able to acquire a hunting license. Einsteins these are not. And don’t tell me the state is going to be demanding of hunters’ prowess when the state knows that hundreds of thousands of dollars may go down the drain if they turn down the unaccomplished hunter.
So does it make sense to take a man or woman who hunts a few times a year and give him a rifle that can fire a bullet for a great distance and with unbridled power and tell him that he can now go out and kill?
Bow and arrows are a real treat. Wasn’t there a deer seen romping through area backyards last year with a large arrow protruding from his rump. Ouch. Maybe the hunter was experienced and maybe he had good aim and maybe he just wanted to nail the deer in the butt.
I just hope I don’t get in any hunter’s sights.
btw, mt. olive is a township where a lot of hunting still goes on, especially Ms. Grit chasing THE budd lake bog deer
http://www.recordernewspapers.com/a...les/2008/12/15/mt_olive_chronicle/opinion/columns/doc4941fe028357c998961620.txt
The thrill of the hunt is back
By Phil Garber
Published: Dec 12th, 7:00 AM
It’s deer hunting season again and isn’t that just wonderful.
I say that all hunters should be hunted down.
I’m not a Jainist but I have never been able to understand why anyone would enjoy killing a manhunting deer or a ferocious rabbit. I understand when people hunt so they can have something to eat but I have never met a subsistence hunter in Morris County.
Maybe if I was filming a segment of “Survivorman” and I was dropped by helicopter in the middle of the Sergenghetti, 300 miles from the nearest McDonald’s, maybe then I could understand hunting.
But I know of no Morris County Serenghetti, no matter how hard I look and how much I squint.
I guess hunters say they enjoy the skill and the challenge of the hunt. I think that may have been a valid point when people hunted with rocks.
But today, with high powered scopes, high powered bullets and camouflage that puts a chameleon to shame, it is hardly a level playing field.
I really can’t abide hunters who climb up 15-foot stands and wait for the deer to pass by so they can blow their brains out. The challenge I suppose is to make sure the Ipod is turned down so the deer doesn’t get spooked. Real sport, that is.
This is real mano a mano stuff. I mean it’s man or woman against the wild and wily deer, those creatures who not many years ago were just a step removed from their blood dripping, carnivorous relatives.
I imagine I am a deer, grazing quietly on some sun drenched day in the Black River Wildlife Management Area.
I am thinking about my children or about my 401K. Maybe I am just admiring the gorgeous sunset as I swallow down a tasty mouthful of grass.
And suddenly I have been eliminated from existence by some yahoo with a rifle that is the size of a Howitzer.
As a deer, my only sin has been that I exist. I am, therefore, I die, to paraphrase Rene Decartes famous saying about existence.
My other only sin is that I am an easy target, my little fluffy white tail swaying with the breeze. If the tables were only turned and just while you were about to take another bite of that cheeseburger, blam, you’ve got a six-inch hole in your back. What about that, macho hunter?
I can easily see the deer riding by, with their human catches tied to their roofs as they brag to each other about the six-foot human they got.
And they get home to admire the heads, stuffed and majestic, sticking out over their mantles.
Then there are those hunters who claim they are doing a public service by ridding the roadways of the deadly, car smashing, carcass bashing, deer. I don’t know if the same rationalization applies for hunting rabbits, squirrels, chipmunks, mice, birds and frogs, ferocious and hazardous though they all may be.
I understand there are as many traffic accidents caused when frantic motorists swerve to avoid crushing the wayward titmouse.
Titmice beware.
If hunters want to do a public service, they could dish out soup at the homeless shelter.
So why do hunters hunt? Why do they spend fortunes on apparel so they can look like a character out of “Deliverance.” Why do they get up before dawn, in freezing temperatures, and wade out through hip-deep swamps or climb up 10-foot tall stands, and wait for hours until their fingers turn blue?
I suspect it is because they are overcome by the same animal instincts that govern their prey. They just like to kill and feel superior.
I suppose that those who follow the same instinctive instincts are probably around the same intellectual levels.
I have never heard the expression “as dumb as a deer” but it would seem to apply, based on the expressions of those deer who wait in the middle of the road for the cars to pass, those deer with the patented “deer in the headlights” appearance.
Hunters will likely never have bumper stickers bragging about their honor roll days.
And I am really suspect of the skills of hunters. Something tells me that a hunter need not be a Rhode’s Scholar to be able to acquire a hunting license. Einsteins these are not. And don’t tell me the state is going to be demanding of hunters’ prowess when the state knows that hundreds of thousands of dollars may go down the drain if they turn down the unaccomplished hunter.
So does it make sense to take a man or woman who hunts a few times a year and give him a rifle that can fire a bullet for a great distance and with unbridled power and tell him that he can now go out and kill?
Bow and arrows are a real treat. Wasn’t there a deer seen romping through area backyards last year with a large arrow protruding from his rump. Ouch. Maybe the hunter was experienced and maybe he had good aim and maybe he just wanted to nail the deer in the butt.
I just hope I don’t get in any hunter’s sights.
btw, mt. olive is a township where a lot of hunting still goes on, especially Ms. Grit chasing THE budd lake bog deer
