bad karma blues
I am going to use this space to say publicly what I have not said privately. I once had a job killing birds. It was an ecological sort of thing run by a local research group and other environmentalists. The brown-headed cowbird was overtaking the area with its parasitic ways at the expense of some other, dwindling species. To save these species, a brown-headed cowbird eradication program was started. It had been going on for a few years before I came along and for all I know is still in effect. I will not pass judgment on the goal here, but at that time, the numbers showed that the program was working.
I have told many people that I did once have a job killing birds. I have described the large, caged structures that are used to lure and hold the birds. But when asked about method, I could never bring myself to say.
...and now I am about to type the method and i find myself balking.
the method i was taught was to put them into a plastic bag and hold the end tight to the exhaust of a running automobile until the flapping stopped. sometimes there were many birds in the bag.
halfway through the season or so, i could no longer bring myself to do this. i know i could not handle the impersonal, factory aspect, though i don't think it was a conscious knowledge. after that, i killed each bird individually by suffocating them with a firm grasp over their chests...about 10-15 seconds.
It causes me much more pain now then it did then, which in some sense is good and in others, very bad.
I have told many people that I did once have a job killing birds. I have described the large, caged structures that are used to lure and hold the birds. But when asked about method, I could never bring myself to say.
...and now I am about to type the method and i find myself balking.
the method i was taught was to put them into a plastic bag and hold the end tight to the exhaust of a running automobile until the flapping stopped. sometimes there were many birds in the bag.
halfway through the season or so, i could no longer bring myself to do this. i know i could not handle the impersonal, factory aspect, though i don't think it was a conscious knowledge. after that, i killed each bird individually by suffocating them with a firm grasp over their chests...about 10-15 seconds.
It causes me much more pain now then it did then, which in some sense is good and in others, very bad.
posted by sparklestone at 3:38 PM
13 Comments:
An ecological group wanted you to leave your car running all day?
WTF?
I keep learning more and more things about you through this blog. Unfortunately, it tends to be things that cause you pain.
I wonder: would you have become the kind and good man that you are now if you hadn't lived with that violence? You often encourage me to accept the ugly things that I've lived through as part of what has contributed to my good qualities.
I don't think that your karma is in danger. When I first saw you, I was attracted to the light that shines from you -- and that was before you even spoke.
That light you saw Miss Kate, was actually from the flashlight I was holding up to his ear.
There's some crazy shit in that guy's head.
While I have never killed birds, I did feed orphened baby chicks one summer. I carried a dog that had been hit by a car to the hospital one morning. I swam alongside a boat helping teach an injured dolphin how to swim again one July afternoon. I lead a team of horses out of a burning barn one late winter night. I escorted an abandoned bear cub back to its den one day. But,I never did kill any birds. I guess it all equals out in the end.9
It seems Sparklestone is searching. With the loss of his friend hit by a train, then some writer named Thunder, it is no surprise the bird thing has taken flight. Allow me to suggest that now is the time for Sparklstone to redefine himself. Hiding behind the bearded kung fu grip man photo no longer will sustain you. There are two paths from which you may choose. As time passes your choices will be examined. Your thoughts probed and your emotions challenged. I have accepted your request to mentor you and provide you help along the way. I figure the odds that I'll be hit by a train or a 20 caliber bullet make it likely that I'll be around for quite some time. So lets get to work. Look in the mirror and say "I love me and I am loved. I want to be like 9 and that o.k." As time goes on we'll build on this process.9
Dear Sparklestone the Advice Man,
When I read what you write, I am inspired to write a comment and then when I read some of the other comments I am disgusted and sad and I can't write a comment anymore.
Please advise.
Sincerely,
Confused in Thistleland
Exercise No.1 Sparklestone begins:
1. If Sparklestone were an object and not a human what would it be?
2. Take three pillows and place then behind your head. Does your chin rest on your chest, stomach or knees?
3. Sit in the dark and try on socks. Counting aloud stop when this seems strange.
4. Balance a pencil on your right index finger. What place fake or real does this remind you of?
5. Laugh aloud. Laugh aloud again only this time hold your lips shut with your fingers.
Remember these feelings.9
Hey 9,
Did you know the odds of you getting hit by a train are actually quite good (depending on your IQ, of course). The odds of getting hit by a 20 caliber bullet on the other hand are virtually nill.
I mean really, who would have the patience to take a 22 caliber bullet and shave it down .02 inches? I think B-B's are bigger than that.
Confused in Thistleland,
I do understand. I encourage an open forum on this thing, but it's not for everyone. I want your comments any way you can offer them.
So 9 gets called out by sylow_p. O.K. #9 made a typo. The point is not the caliber of the bullet but the caliber of Sparkestones blogs.9
Perhaps we should discuss this on your blog #9. Throw down, boy!
What's that? No blog of your own? What's the matter with you? Pull out that phoney-baloney Scottish accent you adore and let'er rip! As long as you don't bring it up, no one is ever gonna find out you still wear diapers. I promise.
It is with great sadness that I must inform you that #9 may no longer be commenting on this blog. While unintentional, it is clear that #9 has created a distraction from the serious self reflection that Sparklestone has created for the blogging community. It is and has always been the hope that #9 would only serve as an alternative voice for the silent ones. It's clear that being good enough to comment is only valued if one can say "Check me out,I am a blogman". I declare my freedom from this shadowy existance. So it is now I that has a blog. Take that blogaholics. Find it if you dare.9
Oh goody. Number 9 wants to play.
Hooray, Hooray, Hooray for #9!
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