Third Eye

Changes

ParagonLisa — Thu, 12 May 2011 20:13:00 GMT

I would like everyone to know that because we will be taking down www.paragonearth.org (we will continue promoting via our Myspace, Facebook, and Twitter pages) and because we will be removing our websites from GoDaddy because of the CEO's hunting of elephants, this blog is now located at http://paragonlisa.blogspot.com. Subscribers can subscribe to the new blog to keep up-to-date.

Thank you for your support!
Lisa Selvaggio

A Dysfunctional Family?

ParagonLisa — Mon, 21 Mar 2011 22:06:00 GMT

Headlines abound with horrific tales of animal cruelty. There is the dog who got his head sliced off by a chainsaw, the starved dog thrown down a garbage chute, the cat that was dipped in tar whose nose and mouth were burned off. These stories seem unreal, straight out of a horror movie, but the unfortunate truth is that they are real, and these kinds of things happen every day in every part of the world. If you have enough animal activists and rescues on your Facebook page, you’re sure to see a steady stream of nightmarish headlines all day every day, right there alongside the “urgent” animals found in shelters across America whose hours are numbered if they’re not pulled in time. We sit hopelessly at our computer screens wondering what more we can do besides spread the news, donate funds and supplies, and, if possible, rescue animals ourselves. How can we influence politicians to make and enforce laws that are there for the protection of animals? How can we make sure that the abusers are put to justice; that someday animal abusers will be punished the same way “people abusers” are? How can we wake up more people to the fact that all animals are sentient beings?

One scary element of the animal rights movement is the various factions within it. For a movement that is working toward establishing rights for all animals and ending speciesism across the globe, we sure do know how to fight with one another.

Recently, Big Cat Rescue in Tampa, FL came under fire when news hit that they were feeding live domesticated rabbits to the big cats. Videos on YouTube showed the big cats, including lions, tigers, and bobcats, eating dead rabbits or chasing after live ones, and Carole Baskin, the founder of BCR, went on the news to state that they do indeed breed rodents such as rats and rabbits to be used for food and training purposes prior to releasing some of the cats. Apparently, BCR has a shady past (read what Baskin admitted herself here). As someone who donated to and visited the sanctuary, I was very interested in finding out some information on Baskin and the creation of her sanctuary. What I found was information that led me to believe she created the sanctuary after having had the land for her own personal collection of exotics. Whether she had a change of heart or she had a change in her business plan, it is news that makes you question who these people really are and what their true intentions were and still are. Plenty of non-profits, large and small, have been exposed for their lies and secrets, and they don’t always prove themselves as genuine as they would like to seem. Nevertheless, I digress, as my personal opinion of BCR is not relevant to the argument I’m trying to make here.

As soon as word spread that docile, tame rabbits were being fed to the cats, “rabbit groups” started attacking BCR and anyone who supports the organization at this point. Vegans started calling the rabbit rescuers crazy, negating any claims they made and immediately assuming incorrectly that they wanted the cats to be fed a vegetarian or vegan diet. Of course, there was the argument that these meat-eaters were only fighting for the rights of the cuddly rabbits, ignoring the needs of the big cats.

The big cat vs. rabbits debate is just one example of clashes that occur regularly within the AR movement. While real abuse is going on, we fight each other from within, wasting precious time. While we debate one another, we should be debating non-vegans or people working in industries that exploit animals. While we sit on Facebook watching the newsfeed for updates on our last comment, we should be educating ourselves on ways to make a difference for animals. In the end, we’re all in this together; we’re all working towards the same goal. It’s necessary to call out an organization that is unjustly profiting (read: exploiting the animals in its supposed care) from trusting donors, and it’s important to really research an organization to make sure it really does have integrity, but where do we draw the line and reach a compromise? At what point will BCR understand that perhaps it isn’t right to feed live rabbits that are domesticated as pets to big cats when there are alternatives? At what point will people who fight for domesticated animals recognize the need to go vegan and fight for all animals, not just the ones you can keep at home? And at what point will they understand that animal rescue, when it comes to wild animals and obligate carnivores, is not easy and certainly a double-edged sword when it comes to vegans doing the rescuing? We sometimes have to put our own needs aside to make sure the animals are receiving the diet, lifestyle, and care they need.

I don’t have the answers to these problems. All I know is that, many times, the problem with the AR movement is that it involves people, and until we truly come together and stop fighting with each other, no progress will be made. Whether it is a rat, a lion, a seal, a cow, or a dog, every animal deserves to have rights that protect it from abuse and bring the abusers to justice. That is the ultimate goal and we should stay focused on that. I’m sure we can all name organizations whose practices we don’t agree with. Again, while it’s important to call them out on their hypocrisy or poor decision-making as we educate others about these issues, if they are doing something positive in the grand scheme of things, we should be trying to get them to change their ways by approaching them in a kind and mature fashion, not by attacking them with insults and creating disharmony.

Because while we bicker amongst one another, another animal is beaten to death, another is sent to slaughter within days of its birth, and another is skinned alive. And all the arguing was for naught. It’s time the AR movement got its priorities straight and focused on getting out there and doing something positive rather than sitting behind a computer screen arguing for days over a social networking site. In the end, it’s all for the animals and it’s up to us, measly humans, to save them.

- Lisa Selvaggio

For the Animals...Sanctuary

ParagonLisa — Sat, 04 Dec 2010 05:20:00 GMT

Winter on the mountains always seems to arrive more swiftly than below. The Autumn slinks away without a fight, taking with it the last remaining shreds of warmth, leaving behind the desolate trees against the gray-colored sky. I am at For the Animals Sanctuary in Blairstown, NJ, filming the animals enjoying the open space of their pasture for a documentary I am helping with that will give them a voice, tell their stories of horror and eventual rescue. Before long, my gloved fingers and my toes go numb from the frigid morning. Filming will have to stop now that the flurries have started to descend. The animals seem unaffected but I am clearly not built for this.

In the few visits I have made thus far to the sanctuary, it has become clear just how much work is involved in caring for farm animals. It’s an endless task that, once finished, has to be started over again. The barns need to be kept clean, food and water provided, the waste cleared away, and all the other obvious chores you would imagine. The animals are in need of constant care, including medication and maintenance, such as trimming of hooves. In addition, the cows are extremely powerful and could injure a human with ease if they chose to, so one must be aware and respectful towards these creatures by approaching with caution. As a vegan, the idea of owning an animal sanctuary is always appealing because the heart is in the matter and you want to do all you can to be a part of these animals’ lives. But reality certainly hits—a gut check, so to speak—when you see exactly what goes into running a place like this. Would I be cut out for this kind of work? Not at this point in my life, that’s for sure. And that kind of honesty is okay. I can help the animals in countless other ways. But in this honesty, I also find that I have an immeasurable level of respect for Debbie and Steve, the owners of the sanctuary, who have devoted their lives to these animals.

Although For the Animals is small and relatively new (having been founded in 2007) compared to other larger, more well known sanctuaries, with ten goats, three cows, one bull, four pigs, and four hens, it is a full-time job. Debbie and Steve run fundraisers throughout the year and host work parties, days on which volunteers can help clean out the stables and provide some much needed help, but other than that, all the work is done exclusively by themselves. There are no vacations in sight now that they share their home with rescued farm animals who cost thousands of dollars per month to maintain and who can only be properly cared for by this husband-and-wife team. They both work full-time jobs, even though Steve could easily retire, in order to have enough of their own money to fund the sanctuary aside from relying on donations.

Farms litter the landscape leading up to the sanctuary—farms that feature cows grazing that will be sent to slaughter. A group of Black Angus cattle are spotted as I ride past, and I note a baby, probably only a couple of weeks old, sitting in the grass. He or she won’t last long. Debbie and Steve can vouch for the uninterrupted rotation of animals as they are seen for a short period of time before never being seen again. In contrast, the constancy of the handful of animals at the sanctuary is comforting, especially as you get to know their unique personalities and quirks, whether it’s Amy sneaking up behind you and gently nudging you or Hope licking your hand with her thick pink tongue, and I do hope that Steve and Debbie will be able to rescue many more. Because I cannot forget the calf, resting in the grass, his lovely black coat, his small frame. I cannot ignore his fate.
The selfless work that Debbie and Steve do is beyond commendable. There are no words to show my appreciation for their dedication and ability to start this completely from scratch and learning along the way. That’s what it means, though, to be a true vegan: to take your lifestyle a giant leap forward, into hands-on care of the sick, the outcast, the nearly dead brought back to life. People on the frontline like Steve and Debbie are inspiring and deserve all the help they can get, because they are heroes, not only to the animals but to fellow vegans seeking justice for the voiceless.

- Lisa Selvaggio

*Please click here to learn more about the "For the Animals Sanctuary Documentary" and to donate to the project.

Herbie, a Bull with Balls

ParagonLisa — Thu, 25 Nov 2010 17:10:00 GMT

“The will to live will always outweigh the ability to die.” – Brent Smith

There's tranquility here, atop the rolling hills that give way to the mountains stretching across the horizon. It is Autumn, and the green grass is blanketed with fallen leaves of orange, brown, gold. The animals move along at a slow pace, feeding and basking in the warmth of the morning sun. Daylight is shorter now and grazing will become sparse soon. Herbie, white curls on his forehead, gallops down the hill, head swinging, legs kicking, into the open field. As a dog would, he goes after a ball or broken tree branches. With each hop and stride you can feel the earth beneath tremble, yet he bounces along unaffected, unhindered. His personality shines at moments like these. Like a child, he plays, knowing that he is free, with nothing to fear at For the Animals Sanctuary.

Herbie has a fire in his eyes that’s almost palpable; something that draws you in. He looks back at you while feasting on his hay, the playful calf inside subdued temporarily, and you know that he is sure of his salvation, because he created his salvation. When the slaughterhouse-bound truck he was on broke down and the workers were frantically transferring the animals to another truck, he knew to run. And he ran through the streets of Brooklyn, NY because he knew that he needed to get away, that that truck was not bringing him to a safe place. Did the other cows on the truck know it too? Did they try but fail to get away? Were they too afraid to attempt what Herbie did?

Public outcry helped save Herbie. After all, a bull that shows such zeal, that takes his own life “by the horns,” deserves to be placed on a sanctuary and not sent to the very slaughterhouse he avoided with his own instincts. But what about the others? Did the people who were in support of saving Herbie think about the others that would inevitably die? Did they consider that all of the animals on that truck were equals, and that all of them should be saved? Did they think about converting their lifestyles to a vegan one that would save more animals just like Herbie? Or did they think that only this daring bull was worth it?

Herbie is proof that these animals are conscious, aware beings. They know that there is something better for them outside of the factory farm. They know that they deserve better. And they’re willing to fight for it, to take risks for it. In the end, they are no different from any human being, whose intuition and instinct tells them when they are in danger, who run from a scary place to find safety, who want to live and are willing to risk everything for that one shot in hell that could get them to the other side that looks so much greener than here.

Herbie was a 4-month-old calf at the time he ran for his life. There are people who are so dissatisfied with their lives, long into adulthood, that never have the courage to change their situations, whether it’s for fear of failure, for financial reasons, or for sheer uncertainty as to what their purpose is. But Herbie knew he had to run. He knew he couldn’t trust those people. And now he knows that he is happy and has nothing to fear as he grazes in the open field among his companions. In a way, he epitomizes the “stubborn bull.” In the end, he found himself a wonderful life. When the sun sets, he rests in the warmth of tomorrow.

If only more individuals would be able to hear Herbie’s story or see him in person at For the Animals Sanctuary. Perhaps they would decide to cease consuming animal products and turn to a plant-based diet that promotes life instead of suffering and death. If only they would be inspired by his fearlessness and let go of their false convictions about diet and health and take that step toward helping others like Herbie live. If only everyone was brave enough to let go of everything they thought they knew and replace it with Truth so that farm animals would be recognized as the sentient beings they are.

Herbie saved himself. Now it’s up to us to save the rest.

- Lisa Selvaggio

Amy

ParagonLisa — Sun, 14 Nov 2010 18:38:00 GMT

There was no use for her; she would only be a financial burden. Her bond with her mother and her twin broken, her fate was to die on a veal farm, to become some human’s unnatural meal. At three weeks, still helpless, Amy was abandoned in isolation at the back of a dark, cold stall, denied food, water, safety, and comfort. She would never feel the gentle touch of her mother’s nose, nor be able to drink her mother’s milk, made for her and her alone. Everything that was her birthright had been robbed from her, and she, infertile and therefore unable to be forced into a life of artificial inseminations and successive heartbreaks to fulfill the selfish farmer’s desire for dairy, would be sent to slaughter. It didn’t matter if she starved, it didn’t matter that she was severely malnourished and dehydrated, dying slowly, because she would not be able to turn a large enough profit. She was a defective product that would be thrown away. Her needs and feelings were not a concern to the farmer, yet she was just a baby, all alone in a harsh, concrete world that showed no remorse.

Even though Amy is safe now, having been rescued just in time by For the Animals Sanctuary in New Jersey, and even though she now gets to smell the air as the seasons change and bask in the warmth of the sun while lying in the grass, the truth remains: that countless others like her have met and will meet the fate that she so narrowly avoided. And although she has found a companion to comfort her at her sanctuary, another cow named Hope who was saved from slaughter after she could no longer produce milk, the fact can never be forgotten: that she will never know her family even though she is a creature that thrives upon those bonds. We can question what happened to her mother and her twin, but we know the horrific answer.
Amy—all of Amy: her strong body, her gentle eyes, her endearing spirit—was thrown away as though she didn’t have a soul, as if she didn’t have a right to exist, and she was going to end up crowded into a truck where she would barely be able to move (if she would even have had the strength to stand), was going to be forced into a line that would lead her to a bullet through the head and a slashing open of her neck. Her skin would have been torn off and her limbs would have been sectioned off, and little by little, you would no longer be able to recognize her. Her flesh would be packaged, possibly mixed with the flesh of other cows, and treated to appear fresher to the unknowing and/or uncaring consumer who would find her on his dinner plate.

But Amy was one of the very few lucky ones, a tiny fraction of a percentage of all the ones who are slaughtered every minute of every day. You can visit Amy now, safe and sound at For the Animals. Almost one year old, she has grown and flourished, and will continue to do so. When you look at her, you can see the faces of all the cows just like her that are harmless, innocent, and simply crave to live their lives as Nature intends.
But what is most amazing is the fact that in her eyes there is no hatred for mankind, there is no fear as you approach her and stroke the softness of her black and white coat. Apparently, she has forgiven the whole of humanity and has chosen not to hold a grudge, choosing instead to focus on the caring saviors who brought her here and the visitors who come to connect with her. We find it extremely difficult to forgive our transgressors, but this cow, who, from the moment of her birth, knew nothing but hate and evil at the hands of humans, is gentle and welcoming. She has forgiven humanity for everything I cannot. Her concern now is to enjoy life, letting go of the past and focusing on the warm, safe future ahead of her. If only I could do as she has done. But I am not a cow, I am a human, and as such, I know nothing of unconditional love or true freedom or genuine forgiveness. Amy embodies all of these things, thanks to her rescuers, who unselfishly provide for her and the other lucky ones at their sanctuary. And until all animals are safe and free, Amy will be a reminder of what could and should be.

- Lisa Selvaggio

A Goodbye to the Trees

ParagonLisa — Thu, 19 Aug 2010 17:32:00 GMT

When you live in an area that is overpopulated, with houses one on top of the other, and the air is dirty, you have to savor each and every tree. Yet as I’ve gotten older, living in the same place my whole life, I’ve found that most people don’t care about the trees. They cut them down with no remorse; no concern for the air that will be that much more dirty without these natural filtration systems, and without regard to the beauty that is lost. At the very least, you would think people would miss the privacy that the branches provide when you would otherwise be able to see straight into your neighbors’ windows.

There has been a giant pine tree growing in my neighbor’s backyard since I was a child. There has not been a day in my life that, if I look out the back windows of my house, I wouldn’t see it towering above, with a Mockingbird singing from the tippy-top or squirrels running down its trunk. When the old woman living there died, I knew the tree’s time was up. But for about a year, it remained, although I feared still that the day would come when this magnificent tree would be cut down, and I’d be able to wave to my neighbors from the window because there would no longer be long green branches to cover the view.

The past few days, the new owners have gutted the house to its bare bones, and today, they began taking down the tree’s branches. Against my hopes that they were merely trimming it down, I watched them climb higher and higher, undressing the tree of its swaying pine branches until the trunk was bare. And I ached as I watched, knowing that soon, this symbol of my childhood, this tree that has watched me grow up and has inspired me with its beauty, would soon be gone. And this small town would look more like a city than a suburb, and the need to flee to the places that remain with trees would be stronger than before.

So this small space that I live in has gotten smaller, feels even tighter, and all the animals that called that evergreen home throughout the years and throughout the seasons will be displaced, making it that much harder for them to survive in this already sterile environment of buildings and streets and useless lawns. The concrete seems to be filling in around me, and I need to run before it covers me. The tree that seemed to touch the sky, that was so vibrant and alive, is now only in my memories, and I watched it die, empathizing that fear and dread that that being must have felt in its final moments as the ruthless blades cut through its limbs, one by one, until finally its core was sliced. I can see more of the sky, but there’s less beauty in that when there are no trees against it.
And the smell of pine fills the air as the branches are put through the grinder…

- Lisa Selvaggio

Why Haven't We Yet Moved "Beyond Petroleum"?

ParagonLisa — Wed, 09 Jun 2010 21:16:00 GMT

I haven’t really had much to say regarding the BP oil spill in the Gulf of Mexico that has been ongoing since April. I have simply been left speechless and outraged, and there seems no end in sight, so it seems that those feelings won’t be going away either anytime soon. Aside from posting headlines on our social networking sites for Paragon Earth to help keep people informed, my soul has been busy aching over the images of destruction, and the fire inside me has been burning higher and stronger every time another lie or selfish line comes spewing forth from BP’s mouth; never mind the lack of action by the U.S. government, its rejection of help offered by foreign nations (http://ow.ly/23i7d), and the blatant disregard by all at fault of the solutions set forth by everyone from non-profit organizations to celebrities to everyday citizens. While the people cry over lost profits due to the loss of oil or of fish stocks, I care only for our planet and for our future. The threat is one that could very well destroy our oceans, the oil even reaching the northeastern coast where I reside. It all seems unfathomable, so unreal, but it’s reality, and there seems nothing that we can do. While we all go about our days, going through our routines, living life, the animals in the Gulf try to do the same but find themselves poisoned and struggling to survive instead.

I have come to realize even more strongly that corporations control this country, as the EPA seems to have little authority over what BP does, and, as I stated already, the government has been largely absent in attempts to clean up the oil and provide funding to local governments trying to do it themselves. For example, why is it that, when the EPA told BP that the chemical dispersant they were using was too toxic compared to other alternatives, the corporation continued on? Why is it that Louisiana hasn’t yet received any of the funding it’s requested to start their own cleanup? Who is really running our country, and our world?

Our selfish dependency on oil is what led to this. There are alternative forms of energy out there. And while it will take years for those sources to become as reliable or efficient or abundant enough as oil, there hasn’t been enough action towards those goals in the meantime, so the deadline for alternative energy sources keeps getting pushed back. While other countries are so far ahead of the game, America drags its feet, because oil companies and corporations are too closely connected with the politicians in charge. We have all sold our souls to corporations like BP for the convenience, for the laziness they allow us to have. And the oil spill in the Gulf is one huge reminder of the cost: the death of our only home and of our kindred animal and plant spirits.

Because humanity on a whole has lost its connection with the planet--the Mother that brings forth all life--we allow such reckless actions as drilling 5,000 feet below sea level. Our desperate attempts at controlling oil stocks, at profiting off a natural resource that should remain within the core of the planet because it has its purpose there, have caused the worst environmental disaster in human history, and we will deal with the consequences for decades or even hundreds of years to come. This oil will not only affect the local animals and environment, it will affect the world. In turning our backs on the Source of Life we have turned our backs on ourselves and our future. And despite the devastation, you will see pro-oil lobbyists and politicians still drilling, still selling, still dealing this destructive drug we have become so addicted to.

And we are all at fault, myself included, but mostly because we have no choice. So many of us want to change our daily habits to become “greener” but are left with few options, especially if you’re of the lower and middle classes and find it difficult to afford more expensive forms of energy. Lack of oversight, lack of concern, the lust for money, the greed…the list goes on for the reasons that this tragedy occurred, like so many before it in the oil industry, and like so many to come. Yet no one ever learns, and the common populace is ignored and used and our votes fall on deaf ears, because no matter what, the corporations’ wishes are the only ones that are fulfilled. Our water and air are polluted all in the name of profit for the elite, and we suffer the consequences alongside the wildlife and the plant life.

So it’s about damn time we do something about it. Anyone with suggestions, comments, insights, etc. who wish to begin an intelligent, open-minded discussion here, please feel free to leave your comments below. We need to take back control, but we need strength in numbers and we all need to do our part to work towards the solutions. Let this be the last time an oil spill destroys our present and threatens our future.

- Lisa Selvaggio

*For headlines regarding the BP Oil Spill, visit www.paragonearth.org

A Letter to Those Who Breathed Me into Life

ParagonLisa — Thu, 01 Apr 2010 21:07:00 GMT

I hear the tales of bombs exploding and people running for cover in the mountains or dying in their homes; of children shot for stealing a piece of bread in hungry desperation; of eating food with mold because there is nothing else; of soldiers, limbless, begging for water; of being drafted at 17 and surviving a sinking ship and seven years of imprisonment. This is the reality that my grandparents, aunts, uncles, and cousins faced during the war that brought the world to its knees. Years passed during which they lived in extreme poverty, dirt, and fear. And what I can’t say I would have the strength to live through, these people survived.

In nightmares only can I envision the night lit up by bombs and guns blasting; the poster of the dictator telling you that you have no rights to speak out as a citizen or be out in the streets past 7pm. These are the stories they don’t teach you in history class. These are the stories that shed so much light upon the people in my life who I have at times taken for granted because I never fully understood just how hard they lived or how strong they were…and still are. These ordinary people are heroes to me; anyone that can survive through what they did has to be. They lived through what I fear happening here, and I realize ever more strongly that we must all work to maintain peace and freedom before it is taken away.

Be careful who you elect into power. It’s so easy to take things for granted. Crying about this economy seems somewhat ridiculous after being reminded of a time when humanity’s deepest fears manifested, and people were dying in attempts to bring freedom back. But at the same time, what we are going through now is a wake-up call to not let things get worse, to not hand over control to people who may end up abusing it in the end, and to stay educated and awake enough to see corruption coming, masked to look like a savior.

It was my family’s tenacity that brought me to life. And perhaps a part of them—that rebellious, freedom-craving part of me that doesn’t like being controlled—is in my bones and in my blood, reminding me, maybe in some form of cell memory, of what was and could be again if we’re not careful. That ancient part of me lived through it just as they did, and refuses to see it again. And a new appreciation is found for the comforts I have had, and for those people who worked so hard to make it possible because they never gave up even when it seemed completely hopeless and life wasn’t really life. I don’t even know how to repay them; I don’t know where to begin. After all, it is because of them that I can focus on achieving my dreams and act like a spoiled brat when things don’t go my way or I feel lost.

When I think on it, real-life heroes are flowing through me, though they never got famous, though their names will eventually be forgotten. Their courage and ability to see through one of the darkest times in human history and make a better life for themselves is super-human to me. These ordinary people aren’t so ordinary anymore, and I look to them for my strength, hoping that one day I can accomplish half of what they did, without fear and with the fortitude to take risks and the resolve to make things right.

- Lisa Selvaggio

It's Time to Break Out of Our Cages to Save Them

ParagonLisa — Fri, 19 Mar 2010 23:51:00 GMT

In an effort to humanize animals to bring to the forefront their plight in varying situations, captive and free, beginning with animals on a fur farm, leading into those in vivisection labs, to those in factory farms, on to those in the wild, and finally to our beloved domestic companions. I relate to them, and I sympathize; do you?

He's slammed to the ground and stepped on, and from that moment, I feel a weight on my chest. He's hung by his feet and cut, his skin pulled off in one piece, and from that moment, I feel a hand reach in and rip my heart out. I see him look up, a bloody unrecognizable mess of flesh that has somehow lived through this ordeal, and I'm suffocating and slowly dying along with him. She's just had babies but she's stuck in a cage, and she knows their fate. Her mind left her a long time ago but a part of her reason remains, her instinct for survival is there, her instinct toward love is alive. In an act of mercy, she kills her young, sparing them a lifetime of suffering and torture in a cage. And I feel the being that's not even yet conceived inside me, and I can see the life ahead of it, and I decide, just like she did, to keep my child from the pain of this world, and so it never comes to be.

I watch them through the bars of their cages. They have sadness in their eyes, desperate for help, desperate for someone to come and save them. There are untreated bruises on their bodies and cuts in their flesh. They are bleeding but no one stops to clean their wounds and bandage them, no pain medication of any kind is administered. Chemicals are pumped into their veins, strange sci-fi contraptions are screwed into their bodies, and they are injected everywhere with god knows what. These are the only moments of freedom they get outside of their cells -- moments when you can hear them scream, moments when their eyes show nothing but fear, moments when these majestic, strong creatures are reduced to pleading for mercy that never comes. The torture is long, the physical pain never ends, the mind's strength wanes, and the body slowly dies, trying to take the spirit along with it. And all I can do is watch from the sidelines because I have no right to intervene. I can scream but my voice isn't strong enough, I can fight for them but the law's not on my side. So with every injection, I feel a sting, with every bleeding sore, I feel my own strength diminish, and with every one of those animals that dies only to be replaced by countless others, a part of me is taken too.

She's so gentle and calm, she doesn't ask for much. Her dream is to be free in the wide open air, fresh food always beneath her feet. She just wants to give birth and watch her babies grow, wants to interact rather than be alone. Instead she's forced to become pregnant when she's not ready, when her body doesn't have the strength it needs. She's hooked up to a machine that steals what should be her baby's food, and then her baby is stolen. She'll never see it again. He's been taken to another place where he will never know the warmth of the sun on his face, where he'll never drink his mother's milk, where he won't have the room to move or grow. His life will end soon, he doesn't have much time, but his mother's body will be used like a machine until it is exhausted and deemed useless. And the loss they feel, the emptiness of not knowing freedom and family, is one I know too well.

They're wild and free, they have families and they love the water, they love the mountains. But one by one they're caught in painful traps, one by one they're shot dead, one by one they're caged and used for entertainment, or their body parts are used in superstitious or superficial ritual. One by one their populations dwindle, one by one they become the last ones until there are none left. One by one they die of poison because their homes are being attacked and destroyed as well, and they have no place left to go. "Civilization" begins pushing itself in on them, and one by one they are crushed, run over, and forced away with no regard. One by one they die of starvation, of lack of shelter, of capture, of needless hunts on their kind, regarded as prizes or threats. One by one their dignity is torn away and they are left with nothing, dead or forgotten, abandoned when they're no longer needed. And when their space is taken, so is mine, and when their air and water are poisoned, so are mine, and when they're caged and forced into submission, so am I.

All she ever wanted to do was make her owner happy, and all he ever wanted to do was keep his owner safe. Instead, they're kept from food, clean water, and shelter. They're chased and hit, beaten down. They're left out on the streets to fend for themselves. But all they ever wanted was a warm hand to hold them and a smiling face to greet them. Instead they're set afire, or thrown out a window, or left on a highway, or drowned. In some places, their kind are captured and slaughtered for food, but not before being tortured. But she's so gentle and sweet, and he just wants to play, he promises to obey. They don't fight back, and when they do, it's of no use, they're not big enough to avoid being overtaken. And every time their trust is abused, every time they are taken in with greedy intentions, I lose my trust in others, I become afraid, and I can't believe what they say.

I feel their pain because they are me. They are a part of me and I'm a part of them. We are different, yet the same. We feel fear and pain, but we also feel love and security. We just want freedom and family, we want happiness, we want life. It's as simple as that. I know that, just as I feel them, they feel me, and all I can do is try to be a fraction of what they are, have a fraction of their strength, a fraction of their beauty, a fraction of their intelligence. So all I can do is try to help, make some changes in my own life to bring about positive change in theirs, and hope that someday we'll all feel their pain and realize what we've done.

- Lisa Selvaggio

*Appeared in Paragon Music Magazine March '08 issue, has been published in The Animals Voice March 2009 e-newsletter, and has been published in Starfish Story Magazine's Premiere issue for 2009
*Also available at http://www.paragonearth.org/articles/break_out_and_save_them.php and http://www.all-creatures.org/articles/ar-break.html

Evolution

ParagonLisa — Wed, 03 Mar 2010 21:44:00 GMT

Wolves in the Rockies have been delisted from the Endangered Species List. It doesn’t matter what political party is in power, animals always finish last – not just in the U.S., but around the world. Now the wolves are being hunted, because humans think that two-legged animals have more rights than four-legged animals and they think that only humans can balance Nature, only humans can determine a healthy wolf population, and humans, not wolves, should be controlling the populations of prey species like elk. The mind reels.

Strip down a human to what a human really is, to what s/he really has: pathetic excuses for “claws,” the lack of fangs for killing prey and eating flesh, and no protection from the elements in the form of fur or thick hair. Humans are essentially weak and helpless creatures who have always used animals for their own advancement. We haven’t evolved as other species do, by adapting and slowly creating better, stronger physical features to survive. Instead, we have used donkeys to carry our loads, we have used horses to travel long distances with speed, we have used elements of the earth to create bows and arrows and blades for killing animals that we should be prey to (like the wolves). We have placed ourselves so proudly atop the food chain while at once detaching ourselves from the life intertwined in this universe and, more specifically, on this planet. Our exploitation of other animals has made us even lazier than we intrinsically are, and therefore even weaker, focusing instead upon development of industry, money, and technology. Those things evolve, while we do not. Even women have lost their connection to their own bodies, using, for example, birth control pills that pump hormones into their systems to make them have fewer menstrual cycles in a year, completely altering the body’s natural rhythms without a second thought.

And yet humans still think that they can decide, using their unreliable charts and graphs, how many animals of a given species have a right to life; that 600 wolves, for example, in a region covering three states, are sufficient. 600 humans surely wouldn’t be sufficient for survival, so why would it be enough for wolves? It is enough, according to those people’s standards, because it keeps the wolves from killing the pet dogs people leave outside unattended and from eating the cattle and sheep that are ranched. A solution, from a vegan like myself: If you understand that the farm animals shouldn’t be raised for food, then you wouldn’t have to keep them, and then you wouldn’t have the problem of them being attacked by wolves and you wouldn’t have to feel so self-important in keeping the wolf numbers down.

A few of us have raised our consciousness and recognized the connection we have to all life on this planet, from the tiny organisms living in the deepest, darkest depths of the vast oceans to the birds that migrate through our skies from one hemisphere to the other. If only all of us would evolve, mentally and spiritually, to that place, then we may once again begin evolving physically to better adapt to this changing planet. Until then we are doomed to an artificial existence, working against Nature until She shakes us off, as George Carlin stated, “like a bad case of fleas.”

Deepak Chopra once said: “The old paradigm was survival of the fittest. The new paradigm is survival of the wisest.” It’s time we all realize that Truth, for our own survival as well as the survival of other species that support our very existence on this aching Earth.

- Lisa Selvaggio

Imagine

ParagonLisa — Sat, 20 Feb 2010 21:21:00 GMT

Some people will say that humans are superior to animals in the sense that people have an imagination. They can imagine things that are not there, they can plan ahead and look back, and they can create something that is completely new.

While watching a show on Animal Planet that tracked a lion pride in Africa, I noticed how a lion cub, after having eaten her mother’s kill, started playing with the leftover flesh and fur of the carcass, pouncing towards it, running from it, and attacking it as though it were prey. Is this an example of imagination on the lion cub’s part? I think so. Clearly the animal is training for the future, for the days when she will be the one on the hunt for food, but what’s also clear is that the cub has the ability to imagine that that piece of animal skin, once belonging to the animal she just devoured, is something other than itself. In the cub’s mind, it is something alive and it is a prize to be had.

Anyone who owns a pet can probably attest to their animal’s imagination as well. A young cat chasing a string or walking away with a toy mouse in its mouth, acting as though it has just had a triumphant kill, clearly knows that the mouse is not edible, yet pretends as though it is, in much the same way that a little boy will play with “army men” toys, yet in their minds be right in the thick of the action. Doesn’t that count as a form of imagination? If the animal couldn’t imagine, then the toy mouse would simply be a toy. For both the human child and the animal, it is all a part of growing up, of training the mind and body for the future, for survival.

Just because animals may not feel the need to build skyscrapers or travel into outer space does not mean they lack imagination and creativity. They build their shelters differently, using the Earth and nothing more. They don’t have labs to create synthetics and break down materials into their simplest, elemental forms to be recreated into something different. Perhaps they don’t bother re-evaluating the way they do things because they’ve been doing it with such a high level of success for hundreds or thousands of years, sometimes longer than humanity has even been around. Why fix something if it’s not broken, right? They evolve as they should, with least effort; and with the changes of the planet, not against it. So a bird species may build a nest the same way over and over again, but it’s because that species has already spent the time perfecting it, and it works.

Humans, on the other hand, misuse their imagination and creativity. Missiles and weapons used for destruction; irradiation of food, land, and sky; poisonous building materials; prescription drugs and vaccines laced with chemicals that alter the body’s natural processes and create more disease; waste in outer space; and plastics that never break down---these are some of the things that human imagination has created. I’m not sure we should be so proud.

In the end, there is not much differentiation between the human animal and animals of other species, if you truly observe their behaviors and don’t simply attribute it all to instinct. I think there is a level of intuition, imagination, and connection to the Source of Life that animals understand on a level that we have not yet touched. They look too different, and they don’t speak our language, so we automatically assume that they are dull and mindless creatures, following deeply embedded instinctual codes of survival. But I give them much more credit than that. Our horrendous laboratory testing of animals may yield results that prove they dream as we do, or that they have cognitive abilities beyond what we first imagined, but all of that is unnecessary if only we stopped and observed, truly observed with an open mind and heart, just how perfectly adapted other species are at surviving.

And I’m sure the caged animals being exploited by humans imagine themselves free, or they wouldn’t be fighting to be back in their wild habitat, they wouldn’t be sad in their isolation, they wouldn’t cry, and they wouldn’t go mad. I’m sure the elephants, who visit the spots where their kin were laid to rest, have the ability to remember the past. I’m certain that the ape who keeps holding her baby, imagining that it is still alive days after its death, can remember and can wish that it isn’t true, just like we do when we lose a loved one. And I’m sure all the animals of this planet that we are quickly destroying, thanks to our “imagination,” can envision a future, if only in their minds, of the way it should be---maybe because they can remember, in their soul memory, what it was like before we creatively began to take the world apart.

- Lisa Selvaggio

Let’s Have a Debate, Shall We?

ParagonLisa — Thu, 07 Jan 2010 22:54:00 GMT

Becoming the person I am today has taught me many things, not only about animal-related issues and myself, but also about other people, namely friends. I’ve come to realize that when you become as entrenched in a belief or way of life as I am, your true friends are the ones who have enough of an open mind to accept you for who you have become, and are willing to let you be. I can say I’ve lost some friends over the past few years, one or two of which can probably be attributed to my vegan lifestyle and their disagreement with it. I can also say that on my music magazine’s Facebook page, we’ve lost “friends” because we would post about an animal issue and someone felt the need to debate us on it as opposed to simply letting us promote what we feel. Everyone, from strangers on the internet to friends and family, feels the need to start up an argument about my eating habits or my feelings toward other species. I don’t incite these arguments; people just seem to feel they need to defend their lifestyles and so they’ll often ask why I am the way I am and proceed to give reasons that I’m wrong. If I don’t push my opinions on them, why do they feel the need to debate me in the first place? I really think that it’s because they feel the need to defend themselves around me because I live a radically different life from theirs.

People are really interesting. They’ll say a delicate ecosystem of small mammals and plants is at risk because of, for instance, a deer overpopulation that eats all of the vegetation. As a response to the problem, brought about by urban sprawl and predation, they decide to cull the deer. What I see here is a species that needs to look in the mirror. We are the ultimate invasive species. We are killing this planet wherever we go, from the cutting down of forests to the breaking apart of mountains to the dumping of waste in the oceans. It must be something to be another animal, to see Homo-sapiens encroach and destroy everything in their path, to see their population grow out of control to the point that they may not be able to sustain themselves any longer.

I have to laugh when I hear people talk about a fragile ecosystem in distress or being threatened by an overpopulation of another species, all the while dumping trash into landfills and polluting the oceans with plastic that kills, and destroying the atmosphere with smokestacks and taking up valuable land to house cages upon cages of animals that will be destroyed inhumanely for their fur, and covering everything in concrete. Any chance humans get to plow over a forest for farmland or for a shopping center or for more homes, in an effort to sustain the ever-growing population, they take it. Yet they don’t seem to see the destruction left in the wake of these actions. But the deer you must fear, they will eat away the delicate balance and so they must be hunted and controlled – yet another thing humans never learn: try to control one species with your mathematical equations and graphs, but it never works, and another species is always thrown off balance. You can’t do what Nature can do, and it’s not your job.

So let’s have a debate, but look in the mirror first, and look at humanity and what it has done and what it continues to do, and see the effects of the actions. If you still feel that things don’t need to change, that one individual making a change can’t make a difference, let’s talk.

- Lisa Selvaggio

Whose Skin Are You In?

ParagonLisa — Wed, 30 Dec 2009 23:51:00 GMT

There is the one caught in the trap, its leg held hard, unable to break free and in excruciating pain. The breath, the life, the walking in the wilderness called home, the pulse, the blood, and then snap! The pain, the confusion, the agony, the blood that spills out. And the endless cries for help that never comes, the heart beating faster, the blood pouring more swiftly. Then the attempt to break free by chewing at the hard metal trap. The blood from the mouth, the teeth breaking, the gums gone numb. Until death comes with its slow approach, welcomed, or a fast blow to the head by the profit-hungry soulless monster.

That is just one scene shown as part of the footage in the Tribe of Heart documentary titled “The Witness,” showing one man’s revelation of his connection to animals and then his plan to expose the cruelty behind the fur industry. This is just one scene, amidst the others of animals ranging from foxes to hares to ferrets. Then the scenes, filled with animal cries of those raised on fur farms in barren cages, cannibalizing each other, going mad with grief and a need for freedom that will never come. The man, heartless, grabbing the animal after cornering it, anally electrocuting it so as to preserve the coat that will be used for some human’s “fashion.” These scenes I can never get used to. They will always leave me breathless, tears streaming down my cheeks, wrenching and twisting my heart. Even just typing this makes me hands shake and my head weak. Because I have always been repelled by fur, I have never understood its purpose, never seen its supposed beauty after its been ripped from the animal it rightfully belongs to.

I sit at the dinner table at Christmas, and the women who love to try to prove to others that they are richer than they are discuss their dreams of mink coats before moving on to a discussion of old furs no longer used for clothing but rather turned into stuffed animals. I cringe and hold it in. They know who I am, they know what I am about, and yet they continue talking, almost to spite me, it seems. But it’s family, and I have to keep my cool. You can’t just run away from these people when you’re done arguing, you have to face them again. “That’s how it used to be,” they say after someone bursts forth with, “If you want a stuffed bear, why don’t you just go out into the woods and club a bear cub and leave it at that, so that the seal can keep being a seal and the fox could be a fox!” I can’t help but laugh at this comment, since it is really ridiculous that they take an old coat because “the fur starts to decay” and use it in a stuffed animal that isn’t even the same species. “But that’s how it was, they didn’t have synthetics back then, it was all fur,” they try to justify, as if they were born in tribal times instead of the 1950s. “No synthetics” – I doubt that much (see this site for proof). I think humanity had gotten to the point by then that it didn’t need animal skins anymore to keep warm.

At work, a coworker walks out into the cold winter weather of the northeast wearing a big fur hat someone brought back for her from Russia. I feel it, asking if it’s real, saying “how could you” as she confirms it is real. She replies that she doesn’t care about the animals killed for fur, because she never fed them, never cared for them, and so they mean nothing to her. Yet, this woman owns horses. I’m sure she would hate to see one of them end up in an illegal slaughterhouse to be used as meat, despite the fact that she’s a meat-eater, as I’m sure she wouldn’t want it killed just so someone could use its mane. The horse is the same as any other animal, captive or wild, yet she cares only because she has claimed ownership over it.

What will it take, I wonder, for people to realize that fur is not necessary, and it shows nothing of their status or wealth but everything of their ignorance and inability to empathize with animals that deserve to live – have a right to life – as much as the dogs or cats that they pamper with spa treatments and cute little outfits? What will it take for people to view the footage I view and make the goddamn connection? What will it take for people to understand that the cow, the pig, the chicken, the fox, the rabbit, the mouse, the bird, the reptile, the fish, and the pets they keep are ALL animals – thinking, feeling, knowing beings, living and evolving just like the rest of us? When will people stop making the distinction between the animals they can eat, the animals they can keep, and the animals they can skin? When will the brainwashing end, and when will people wake up, and what will it take? When will people realize that using animals, especially in cruel ways, is not a topic for debate? But most importantly, when will people realize that humans are animals too, equal and no better than the rest on this planet?

I don’t know if the day will ever come when an animal is respected and not trapped or raised for its fur, but I will work nonetheless to spread education about what goes into making those coats people love to show off. They may not see the bloody corpse of an animal that was skinned alive, or the animal caught in the elements with no way of breaking free, or the caged innocents with absolute fear in their eyes. I see those eyes on the screen and they haunt me. I see the images and they replay in my mind as the mindless chatter goes on outside of me and I try my best to be respectful as they continue to walk all over me. I see the blatant sadism and I question how people could be that way, as others justify it and think nothing of the violence and hatred. And then they wonder why people are so cruel towards each other. They, and their snide remarks about my lifestyle, my lifestyle which breeds life, not death. They make jokes or start arguments because they are afraid that they are wrong, and so they feel the need to justify their actions without even being provoked. And so my anger rages, and the passion burns brighter, and I promise those animals that I will try, at least try, to help them, even though I’m not quite sure yet just how I will.

There is the one who was alive and feeling, whose life was stolen for someone else’s selfish want.

- Lisa Selvaggio

*Also showcased under Featured Editorial of The Animals Voice January 2010 e-newsletter http://www.animalsvoice.com/enews/01-10.html
*Also featured on All-Creatures.org at www.all-creatures.org/articles/ar-whose.html

A Worthwhile Struggle

ParagonLisa — Fri, 18 Dec 2009 21:53:00 GMT

These words fall upon deaf ears. I wonder if my task is futile. Finding then grabbing onto inspiration to have it end there?

Scandalous voices are heard. The reward reaches the one who is the whore, selling the self to the great distraction, the grinding machine, its teeth grating. White-collar criminals, liars poisoning the blind who indulge in their own misdirection, misinformation.

They could change, if only they knew. They could find a way to break the spell, unbind themselves from the falsities. Instead they carry on, inhibiting themselves and taking me prisoner as well. I, forced to live in their cage, struggle to pry the bars apart and step through. And my words fall upon deaf ears, so the eternal struggle continues with nothing more than a dubious promise made to oneself of some reward in the next plane of existence.

The need for glamour and material possessions outweighs the raw emotion and passion, and blood and flesh and bone is needed to fill the void created thereof. The derivation of pleasure from someone else’s pain, from some form of destruction, from the mushroom cloud that paints the sky. And we all choke on the smoke of our own stagnation as I bellow my words upon brainwashed ears unwilling to hear my Truth.

Drums beating the wrong rhythm—war drums—enticing violence. Ignorance breeding itself and bigotry in young minds, 21^st century hate.

The skin that shows itself if only to attract a camera’s lens and produce a name in the paper, not realizing it has been sold to the patriarchal scheme that enslaves and claims possession of the desperate and astray. And too many words fall upon indifferent ears, unwilling to wake.

So I become mad with ambition, refusing to change, refusing to fall prey to the game they all play so well, refusing to partake in the dying, refusing to buy their lines of deceit. The world can fabricate its own artificial nature, but I refuse to bow down, be taken. I refuse to become enslaved, to be led by gluttonous killers. The Spirit rages within and refuses to forget its Source; the Woman is still connected to the breathing pulse of Life.

So these words may fall upon deaf ears, but they are Alive!

- Lisa Selvaggio

Winter

ParagonLisa — Thu, 17 Dec 2009 22:53:00 GMT

      Everything stripped clean across the barren land---clarity in death, when the cold winds blow harshly, biting the skin raw, as the sun in its brightness lies about its warmth. Everything here sleeps except the broken, the tired, the lost, seeking salvation in dreams of water that does not freeze. Seeking a spark to illuminate and light the way. Craving to hibernate, to hide away, but having to take stock because things will only continue to fall apart even after the seeds have cracked open into buds when the soil breathes new life.
      All the friends that said their promises, and all the friends now gone. Memories buried in snow, which covers the ground with a false sense of purity---don't step in it for fear of ruining the blanket and releasing all those emotions again. Stuffing everything down to instead focus on survival.
      Fighting oneself more than the cold. The snow can fall and the icicles can hang all they want, waiting for something, someone, to help change things, to help bring back the time lost. But the world seems too far gone, and every continent's been bought, so there is no escape. And the heat from the fire is stifling.
      The cold is real but there is something artificial about the air, about the clouds that cover the clear blue horizon. Life is slow, yet there is a promise for growth and renewal---an empty promise that will soon be forgotten once realized unfulfilled, buried under the slush that transforms into slick ice at night to fool the careless wanderer. The crisp leaves replaced by cracking sheets of ice lining the concrete, hiding amid the blades of grass. A need to tread carefully.
      The promise of Winter's end---the season may slink away for its own repose, the snow will melt and set the flowers free---but life may still hold ice and bitterness for me...

- Lisa Selvaggio

Leaves

ParagonLisa — Fri, 13 Nov 2009 20:40:00 GMT

I try to find inspiration among the falling leaves of my life, trying to look past all that's coming down and apart around me. Just for a few moments, those leaves soaring past my window are free, released from the grip of the branches and flying through the air; following, being guided by the wind, effortlessly. But I can't help but see them fall to the ground, crushed and decaying. Is life nothing more than a struggle for freedom that, once attained, lasts but a while before you're forced back to the ground again?

I walk through the big city, and it's cloudy with a little bit of rain, as it always seems to be when I'm here, no matter what time of year it is, and the wind is blowing harshly. The trees here have already been stripped of their leaves, and it seems that here there are still jobs to be had as the people hustle past. There are plenty of distractions: the skyscrapers touching the clouds, the bright lights and giant video screens, the taxis hurrying by, buses' horns blowing. But all I hear is the crunch of the leaves below my feet and the only thing that steals my gaze for more than a mere second is the tiny sparrow and its mate searching for food in what little spot of vegetation there is along the concrete sidewalk; the tiny birds struggling to make it through another day, just like all of us. Blank stares of the passengers on the train or ferry, going home after a desk-ridden day at the office after the sun's long been set, fill no void, bring no inspiration except to stay away from that life as best as I can. But the tiny birds, I have to stop and look. Maybe I'm strange. Maybe I'm just really lame. But it's the truth.

This big city has nothing to offer me. It's in the solace of the trees that I find my rhythm and flow. And maybe there's an opportunity there in the concrete floors and walls, maybe I'm missing out on something, but all I can think is, bring that opportunity here, amongst the blades of grass and leaves beneath my bare feet and then I can settle for it. But trade this green for everything paved, and trade this air for a stifled room? I may be forced to do it, but I don't want to. And that's probably what all those emotionless faces on the subway said before life got too real. And it's beginning to get too real for me, as I find myself standing closer and closer to the edge, and I'm damn scared of heights.

Thus is the dull life of the human. To awake to the alarm, the jolting noise, not the sun or the birds' songs, and to spend most hours of the day directed by someone who claims to have more rights than you and dictates your paycheck. Distracted by the chatter, by the price check, by the bills and the banks, by the cookie-cutter education we all supposedly need. And in the meantime, our bodies ache because we don't have time to take care of ourselves and we get so bored and boring because there's no mental stimulation, just the same old every day.

That's why the birds distract me and grab my attention. For some reason, even though they struggle too, they just always seem more alive. It just always seems like the leaves in their lives don't float and fall, they continue gliding higher and higher. That's why I try to find my way like the musician or photographer who tours the world, whose canvas is the open sky and the mountains caressed by the sea, not the pages of a ledger book. Their faces are full of color, and their hands have something real to offer, something that's just as full of life as what inspires them. The clatter of the keyboard and the ringing of the phone do not compare. It is all in the pen, the brush, the instrument, and the flash. Harnessing the wind and grabbing your leaves before they sink down, before the color is gone and the branches are bare.

- Lisa Selvaggio

No Judgment

ParagonLisa — Mon, 12 Oct 2009 22:44:00 GMT

With animals, there is no judging.

It doesn’t matter how tall I am, or how skinny I am, or how attractive I am, or how strong I am. All they see is my eyes, all they feel is the gentleness in my touch, all they hear is my soothing, understanding voice.

They don’t care what I do for a living, or how big my house is, or how much money I make. All they know is that I am there when they need me to be, that I care, that they can count on me. All they need to know is that I will never hurt them and will give them a safe place to rest.

Despite my shortcomings, I have always found forgiveness from animals. I cannot say the same for people. Animals have never backstabbed or lied to me, because their actions always exude their innermost feelings and honestly seeps out from their skin. I have never been betrayed by them, finding a companionship that never wavered instead. Nor have I ever felt used by them, but rather my kindness returned tenfold by actions of unconditional affection.

An animal’s mistrust or anger towards me is never hidden, so I always know when to approach slowly and with caution. With animals, there is always a boundary you don’t cross, a line of respect never to be forgotten, and it’s the lack of words between our kinds that makes it so.

There is no need to fear for an “act” from an animal, no need to fear insincerity. Their emotions are real, never contrived. If they fear, are jealous, are angry, are unsure, are secure, are content, or are trusting, they show it in their eyes, in their ears, in the way their bodies are positioned, as long as you know how to read them. There are no actors among animals.

In their wild homes, I tread with care, because I am the one who needs to fear, the one in their territory, and their wildness and fear of my kind keeps their eyes from fully understanding my intentions. There’s that line you don’t want to forget, that boundary line you don’t cross. The wild ones don’t need me to comfort them, they don’t need shelter from me; they just need their freedom and my respect, my admiration from afar at the splendor of their existence and their roles on this delicate planet.

Yet on those rare occasions that a wild baby or injured one needs my care, I know they will know my intentions are pure and they will respect and appreciate me in return, remembering that, although humans have done them so much harm and disregard, there are a few of us who care.

From the closest people in my life, from family to friends, I have been tormented by their disapprovals, by their attempts at forcing me to live the life they dream for me, by their eyes full of lies that led me to believe I could trust them, and by their disappearance from me with no good reason. And so I have felt a stronger connection to those with whom I cannot share a conversation, with those who challenge me to show my feelings through my actions alone, and with those who are with me for such a short time yet always manage to teach me something new.

Animals deserve our respect and compassion as much as we deserve it from each other. We can learn so much from them that would help us be more peaceful and be more honest. We could learn to respect boundaries, learn to show one another how we really feel instead of being amateur actors in our everyday lives. We could learn how to be gentle but firm, and learn how to live with, not against, the Earth. If only people would realize that words are unnecessary and truth can be found in the eyes and hands that reflect understanding and tenderness…

- Lisa Selvaggio

*Also featured on All-Creatures.org at www.all-creatures.org/articles/ar-judgment.html

An Easy Conversion

ParagonLisa — Wed, 07 Oct 2009 20:16:00 GMT

People often ask me if it was hard to go vegetarian. I will admit, I did try to go vegetarian once but failed. I have no shame in admitting that, as I feel it further proves that even if one fails at it, s/he can always try again and make it work. I'm not sure how much time passed between my failed attempt and my successful attempt. Maybe it was just a few months, maybe closer to a year or longer. All I know is that I had been learning more and more about the cruelty inflicted upon animals on factory farms and was not able to go on knowing I was contributing to it by buying meat.
            The moment it changed for me, though, was when I came across a music video (I'm not sure where on the internet I found it) by a band called Madison Park. The song, "Opus One," is about factory farms and the animals who suffer on them, and the video is full of footage taken undercover of the waste products, environmental destruction, and pollution created by the industry, as well as the animal abuse that abounds on these so-called farms, from chicks thrown out alive in garbage bags to starve, suffocate, or be crushed to death, to a calf lying on the floor unable to get up as a man whipped his side. The video had me crying, telling myself I couldn't do it anymore; I couldn't and wouldn't contribute to this suffering anymore. And that was it. That night, I decided to go vegetarian. And just like that, I eliminated all meat from my diet (to clarify, anything that has a face, including all fish).
             I had not eliminated dairy or eggs from my diet, though, until I learned more about the connection between the meat and dairy industries -- how dairy cows are made pregnant to produce milk, their babies stolen and used for meat or more dairy; how male chicks are discarded because they don't produce eggs and don't grow fast enough, and the females lay eggs in tiny barren cages after their beaks are sliced until they, too, are slaughtered for meat. It wasn't long at all, maybe a couple of months, before my cow's milk turned into soy milk, almond milk, and rice milk, my whey protein shake became a rice protein shake, and my cheese became rice cheese or soy cheese. It wasn't long before my Italian family was feasting on my vegan manicotti at holidays or I was baking vegan cakes for birthdays.
            Was it easy to go vegetarian? It was easy because my heart was behind it. It is so easy saying no to meat and dairy when you see the images of suffering and death in the back of your mind. It is also easy to understand the health benefits of a vegetarian diet, and the even better benefits of a vegan diet done right. It is simple to refuse a meat-containing dish, especially after some time has passed and the look and smell of raw and cooked meat becomes disturbing.  And it's fun to delve into new flavors, new cultures of food, and experiment to bring new dishes into your diet to enjoy, or tweak old favorites that still satisfy.
            The hardest part about being vegan is the lack of convenience when you're out and need to grab a bite to eat.  It's much easier for a carnivore to stop in any restaurant and find a decent meat dish, but it's harder, sometimes impossible, to find a good vegetarian meal, never mind vegan. But if more people become vegetarian or vegan, demand will increase, and more restaurants will spring up serving veg cuisine, and already existing ones will offer more options. And sure, it may be a little more expensive to buy certain vegan products and foods as opposed to conventional, but it's worth it for the health and environmental benefits. And the money you save from not buying meat and contributing to suffering, pollution, and illness can easily be allocated toward the purchase of these alternatives. And yet again, if demand increases, maybe prices can decrease as well.
             As a vegan, I don't feel I'm missing out, but instead feel that others who are still stuck in the old ways of eating and living are missing out in so many ways. It's definitely worth the ride into this lifestyle that appreciates all life, including your own. Whether you try it out for your health or for the lives of other innocents, the important part is trying, whether it's going cold turkey like I did or eliminating meat from your diet little by little. What you may realize is that it's one of the best decisions you'll make, for yourself, for the animals, and for the Earth.

- Lisa Selvaggio

*Also featured on All-Creatures.org at http://www.all-creatures.org/articles/aneasy.html

Selfish Ignorance

ParagonLisa — Mon, 05 Oct 2009 22:16:00 GMT

This particular blog was inspired by a very short news article I read today on CNN.com entitled “Pet Bear Kills Pennsylvania Woman.” The article, found here, is very short, so I’ll go ahead and paste it right into this blog, in addition to the link I just provided:

“A 37-year-old Pennsylvania woman died Sunday after being mauled by her pet black bear, authorities said.

Kelly Ann Walz was attacked when she entered the bear's cage to feed the 350-pound animal and clean its cage, according to Pennsylvania State Police. The bear lived in a 15-by-15-foot steel and concrete enclosure on Walz's property in Ross Township.

The bear wasn't the only unusual animal living on the property, an official with the State Game Commission told CNN affiliate WFMZ-TV. The homeowner had a permit to keep a Bengal tiger and an African lion, and the property routinely passed inspection and had no violations, he said.

A neighbor shot and killed the bear that attacked the owner, state police said.

An investigation continues.”

I understand that it is in cases like these where animal activists are misunderstood, and so I hope no one will think me insensitive, but there is a part of me that cannot feel sorry for this person. She chose to keep a black bear in an enclosure the size of a small livingroom, made of concrete and steel, and on top of that, also had a tiger and a lion, in Pennsylvania. I can’t help but get angry at the selfish ignorance of people like her, who keep these wild animals under these types of conditions and then wonder why they snap, like the woman whose chimp attacked her friend and nearly left her for dead this past year. And it always ends with death for the animal, without fail. The animal can’t speak for itself and plead for its side of the story to be heard, so it rarely ever gets a second chance.

Although there are no photos, and the police claim the property passed inspection, I dread to think of the conditions these animals live in. Bears, lions, and tigers are massive animals made of nothing but muscle who need miles of space to live out their lives, yet people, and the government that allows for such ridiculous permits, feel that it’s okay to keep these predators under lock and key in someone’s backyard. The governments that allow people to keep these animals should consider the safety of the people. As long as these leaders are going to dictate what we can and cannot consume, if we can or can’t own guns, etc., all in the name of our “safety,” then it should be common sense to outlaw the keeping of wild animals as pets. The animals suffer indefinitely, no matter what some people will tell you about how they’re treated, and the humans often suffer consequences as well.

There are sanctuaries across the United States and around the world that rescue and take in wild animals who were formerly kept as pets in horrendous conditions. It happens all the time, and their goal is to give these animals a better place to live out the rest of their lives because it’s usually too late to release them back into the wild. When people refuse to continue caring for these animals, or when they simply cannot afford to anymore, they pick up and leave them behind to die slow deaths without food and water in their tiny enclosures, sometimes with no sunlight. Some make it out when they’re rescued, some don’t, and some that do make it have permanent damage from diseases or injuries from which they will never recover. Let’s also not forget the ones that are sold off to canned hunts or are shot and killed for their fur or so someone can hang their head on the wall.

I call it selfish ignorance because people who do things like this are just that: selfish because they want to keep these cute and cuddly animals while they’re young, disregarding the lives they are meant to lead, and ignorant because they don’t know what these animals really need in terms of space, diet, enrichment, companionship, etc., and they don’t even think about how uncontrollable they’ll be once they reach maturity. Do I feel sorry for these people? How can I? Am I siding with the animals? Yes. Am I crazy for thinking this way? No.

Keeping wild animals should be a criminal activity; the fact that it isn’t is precisely where the problem begins. Despite non-profits lobbying government to ban the breeding and trade of animals like big cats, for instance, different states have different laws and they are all too vague and filled with loopholes to make a difference. This woman’s life did not have to end this way, nor did that bear’s. Her family and friends did not need to suffer the loss of her. It wouldn’t have happened if we had federal laws prohibiting the breeding, trading, keeping, canned hunting, and use of wild animals in any way. But people are selfish, and people are ignorant, and people think that we should control these powerful creatures, and people think that they have the right to keep them in captivity to “see and learn about them.” If keeping an animal in captivity should teach us anything, it should be that wild animals should never be kept in captivity.

- Lisa Selvaggio

Noise

ParagonLisa — Fri, 02 Oct 2009 01:55:00 GMT

      Sometimes I prefer the silence of the pen over the clatter of the keyboard. To write in silence, creating silence. As long as the words are there, it's fine. I just don't like being rushed, like when I know I only have 10 minutes to play with. The worst thing for inspiration is a deadline or a time limit. Kind of like the worst thing for concentration is noise. But some people love noise; they love talking through the silence, piercing through and cutting it, ending it. They need an iPod in their ear, they need the roar of planes and cars going by. Anything to drown out the silence, even if it's the incessant rambling of a TV screen. They close themselves off and cover their ears from themselves and their deepest voice. No wonder all the words these days seem empty and lifeless, no wonder the passion is colorless, no wonder so many people walk around distracted, like drones. I try to keep my distance, but they always manage to interrupt me. Like an annoying song that sticks in your head that you can't rattle out no matter how hard you try, despite how meaningless you know the song is -- it's rhythm, all you need is one second and then it's engrained.
      Sometimes you try to be as clear as possible but you're never understood. Maybe the noise people keep themselves surrounded by has engrained itself into their minds just like that annoying song, and it's drowning me out. No amount of repetition brings about comprehension. It's lonely when all you have is your words but no one bothers to hear them, never mind digest them. It's easier for them to take what they think they know and just carry on, no need to be bothered with new facts or new ideas. They say you can't teach an old dog new tricks. They just keep up with the same behavior. So when you tell them about animal suffering or human suffering or injustices being dealt upon their freedoms, the iPod speaker fits snugly into the ear and they hum you out with their infectious, noxious song. They keep living their lies, thinking they're living their lives, when in reality it's doing nothing but harm to themselves and, indirectly, to you. People don't realize that we are all connected, even to the very air we breathe -- too hard to comprehend, too much of a hassle to wrap their heads around, takes too much time, they gotta hurry on, hurry past, live the "dream" that is only near in their minds, never their hands. While the outside world suffers on.
      Sometimes people don't realize the harm they are doing, but god forbid you try to enlighten them. One less steak or cheeseburger or chicken finger or salmon meal a week would be too unbearable, so who cares about the calf ripped from its mother or the chicken abused and dead within a day of its life? The chicks in the meat grinder, the bludgeoned pig or seal, the dying of the oceans as our nets strangle the water and suck its life dry. And it all comes back around, when the people who consume and have no regard are punished with ill health and a blocked mind. There's no room for light to squeeze on through.
      So what's the solution? How can we raise awareness and consciousness in a world that enjoys drowning out the important things? How can we change people who are so blocked off already that they refuse to change? How can we break through the noise to reach the people that love being surrounded by it? I wish I knew the answer. Maybe then my words would no longer be silent, but would be vibrant with the same kind of music that sticks in people's heads, only this music would deliver Truth in its notes and rests.
      Sometimes I love sewing my words together in silence, but I wish they wouldn't have to remain that way.

- Lisa Selvaggio