Palmer Events Center
Ends in Our Own Back Yards
RECEIVED Tue., Jan. 4, 2005
Dear Editor,
As much as I try to support free-range farming practices, I’m still captivated by enclosed factory feedlots. I remember college road trips that passed through West Texas cattle country where the driver would sadistically child-lock the windows in the down position. The cow shit was so inescapable that I thought the stench had glued itself to the inner lining of my nose.
My time in Virginia introduced me to chicken feedlots. These elongated barns produce so much shit that farmers use jet engine exhaust to clean them out. Really. Jet engines. They empty out the birds, strap an engine to a flatbed, flip the switch, and a chicken shitcloud bursts out the back.
Regardless of my personal views on feedlots, the fact remains that the average American eats about 200 lbs. of animal flesh a year. Removed from our rural roots, most of us now view the raising of livestock as an issue out of sight and out of mind. Meat now comes from the store, not the pen; today most of us are more concerned with avoiding a leaky carton of chicken than how the breasts got there in the first place.
If each set of baby-back ribs came with its fair portion of pig shit then perhaps we would give the matter more thought; however, scrutiny of feedlots will escape the public as long as our meat consumption lacks any visual or olfactive element.
Free-range practices are an effective, albeit expensive, solution for the short term, but truly revolutionizing our perspective on livestock will require the incorporation of edible animals into our daily lives. Interaction, not mere education, is the key to changing the way we exist with the animals we eat. The demise of feedlots begins on the family farm, but ends in our own back yards.
As much as I try to support free-range farming practices, I’m still captivated by enclosed factory feedlots. I remember college road trips that passed through West Texas cattle country where the driver would sadistically child-lock the windows in the down position. The cow shit was so inescapable that I thought the stench had glued itself to the inner lining of my nose.
My time in Virginia introduced me to chicken feedlots. These elongated barns produce so much shit that farmers use jet engine exhaust to clean them out. Really. Jet engines. They empty out the birds, strap an engine to a flatbed, flip the switch, and a chicken shitcloud bursts out the back.
Regardless of my personal views on feedlots, the fact remains that the average American eats about 200 lbs. of animal flesh a year. Removed from our rural roots, most of us now view the raising of livestock as an issue out of sight and out of mind. Meat now comes from the store, not the pen; today most of us are more concerned with avoiding a leaky carton of chicken than how the breasts got there in the first place.
If each set of baby-back ribs came with its fair portion of pig shit then perhaps we would give the matter more thought; however, scrutiny of feedlots will escape the public as long as our meat consumption lacks any visual or olfactive element.
Free-range practices are an effective, albeit expensive, solution for the short term, but truly revolutionizing our perspective on livestock will require the incorporation of edible animals into our daily lives. Interaction, not mere education, is the key to changing the way we exist with the animals we eat. The demise of feedlots begins on the family farm, but ends in our own back yards.
Rad Tollett