You feast upon my flesh. You make garments from my skin. you grind my bones and feed it to your gardens. You drink milk from my breast. You laugh when your cousins gave honor to my spirit, though I may not be the creator, have I not fed you, have I not shelterd you from the elements, have I not sustained you throughout your days? How have you repaid me? by selectively breeding my children into a passive stupor, by forcing them into small cages to be harvested by a machine. You do not even honor them by taking their lives by your own hand. you have your children, the spiritless machines, do it. Do you simply consume my flesh mindlessly, without concious, or do you honor the sacrifice of my children? Our creator put you in charge of his greatest creation. That of nature, Life itself. How have you been keeping this priceless gift? -Spirit of the Bovine as intpreted by me. ;)
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