From wiki-

Apathy (also called impassivity or perfunctoriness) is a state of indifference, or the suppression of emotions such as concern, excitement, motivation and passion. An apathetic individual has an absence of interest in or concern about emotional, social, spiritual, philosophical or physical life.

Paul

Another word.

Bombastic:

Synonyms
pompous, grandiloquent, turgid, florid, grandiose. Bombastic, flowery, pretentious, verbose all describe a use or a user of language more elaborate than is justified by or appropriate to the content being expressed. Bombastic suggests language with a theatricality or staginess of style far too powerful or declamatory for the meaning or sentiment being expressed: a bombastic sermon on the evils of cardplaying. Flowery describes language filled with extravagant images and ornate expressions: a flowery eulogy. Pretentious refers specifically to language that is purposely inflated in an effort to impress: a pretentious essay designed to demonstrate one's sophistication. Verbose characterizes utterances or speakers that use more words than necessary to express an idea: a verbose speech, speaker.

Greg your reaching for things that do not exist. Personal attacks only demonstrate one has nothing intelligent to say about the subject of a discussion. Inconsiderate IMO to take up others time with your resentments too. You have some problem because I take issue with some aspects of how and when certain people take the lives of animals? Guess what? I have a lot of company...Here on this site, and with other hunters I have met. That was never even the subject of the discussion however. If you didn't care for me, or the discussion, why are you still here? Stabing out with blind fuzzy logic is of no benefit to anyone. Get grounded and come to the table with some real thoughts next time--and leave the Hard-*** routine behind.

Paul

Paul, I think it was a reaction to your Apathy comment, which seemed to be directed at those not entering this discussion.

I understand. It was a bit of a prod I suppose, nothing meant to offend, just a little tap on the shoulder. Maybe best to look at the Apathy post as a seed for thought for anyone--but maybe no one--that it might be something that could hold one back from speaking they're minds, not just here. I feel that I was apathetic at one time, and now fervently believe if I do not speak out for the creatures I love, then their lives are just a little more in jeopardy. I KNOW I am far from being alone here on this site about such things.

Paul

That's what I was taking exception to, and trying to hold a mirror up to show Paul the reason I thought the thread was going nowhere. I felt like I was being examined by a shrink. Paul wanted to have others bear their soul, but like he responded to your first post, he wanted it to be an inquisition rather than a discussion.

Paul, folks are not required to enter an inquisition. To not play doesn't make them apathetic. I think you know that, and I think the post was disrespectful to the membership and readers.

I also question how the subject relates to nature photography when it comes to the core of it. It seems more to divide nature lovers into two camps, the killers and the saints.

As I sit here with my 14 year old Pom and 6 month old Eng. Springer pup I'm sure I could wax poetic about how much these and my pets in the past have meant to me. On the other hand I could try to put into words why I used to hunt but choose not too these days. Or why I have no regrets about either. It's not apathy. It's not a matter of not wanting to be subjected to an inquisition. It really comes down to one thing: How I feel about animals is really none of your business. While I have no problem with you asking, you should equally have no problem with those of us that don't care to answer.

Fair enough?

Hey Paul

I tend to agree with some of the sentiments above; you're asking for people to talk to you. Whether anyone chooses to engage that conversation is their business; and the choice not to isn't necessarily apathetic at all. It certainly could be. But it could be a million other things going on in their world, of which you know absolutely nothing about.

It's an interesting topic, but there are lots of interesting conversations around the world, too. No one can engage them all. And the one you started here is always going to garner a smaller audience, I feel; it's a more intimate part of a person's worldview that most folks are reluctant to share. C'est la vie.

Cheers

Carl

Hey folks--I will be out of town and pretty much handicapped internet wise for about ten days. I do want to talk to all of you though. Please be patient in the meantime if you would.

Paul

My apologies for being abscent for so long on this thread--life does so intervene.

I would like all to consider the words of someone who thought about what animals meant to him.

Why I Quit Hunting

BY ROY DALLAS GRAGG
[Original dateline: Animals’ Agenda, November 1986]*

I WAS BORN in the mountains of North Carolina near Grandfather Mountain and Mt. Mitchell. Hunting, killing and butchering animals was a way of life for the mountain people. I killed my first hog at age eight. I had expected the animal to fall as if by magic when I squeezed the trigger of my grandfather’s old .22 caliber rifle. I was both surprised and alarmed when the animal screamed with pain and agony. “More carefully,” my uncle said, “You have to hit him in the head.” When the rifle cracked the second time, the animal fell dead.

I couldn’t sleep that night—I could still hear the animal’s screams. The adults laughed the next day when I told them it just didn’t seem right to shoot an animal when he was locked helplessly in a pen.

I dreaded October each year-that was the month when the hogs and steers were killed and butchered. Early in the morning barrels of water were heated over roaring fires to scald the animals so that their hair could be scraped off. I got a sick feeling in the pit of my stomach when a butcher knife slashed the hog’s throat and the blood ran across the ground as the pitiful animal convulsed and kicked. The air smelled of death, especially when the hogs were gutted. I noticed that the horse, a huge Clydesdale mare named Bell, would sniff the air, and with big eyes run away. She too smelled the death. I always stayed outside whenever possible because the stench of lard being boiled on the woodstove was unbearable.

However, it was always my job to turn the handle of the hand-operated sausage machine. Spring brought another dreaded time, when the man came to castrate the pigs and dehorn the cattle. I would hold my ears to shut out the sound of their agonized screams. “Don’t be a sissy-you’ll get used to it,” I was told, but I never did.

Sundays usually brought another unpleasant task: catching a chicken and “wringing” its neck. The sight of the unfortunate creatures’ bodies jumping high in the air with a broken neck is still fresh in my mind, even though it was over thirty years ago.

To make matters worse, the butchered birds and animals had often been pets. I had a pet chicken named Red. I trained Red, a big red hen, to sit patiently on a fence post or other object for hours until I set her down. I also had a pet turkey named Fred. As is the fate of most turkeys, Fred ended up on the Thanksgiving table. The crowd roared with laughter when I said, ”I’m not thankful. Fred was my friend and I’m not going to eat him.” My cousins taunted me until I finally ate a small piece of breast, but I felt like a cannibal.

I rather enjoyed hunting because I didn’t have to butcher the birds and animals. By the time I was fourteen I was a “crack shot”. I never missed. Squirrel hunting was my favorite because the elusive gray squirrels were hard to hit. One day I grazed a big gray squirrel and he fell right in front of my dog Rex. The squirrel was putting up a furious battle against the dog who was many times its size. I sat down and thought for awhile. I couldn’t help but admire the little animal. He had wanted to live!

The mountain people often shot the red squirrels or “boomers” for shooting practice. The red squirrels were not good to eat so they were thrown away. But that didn’t sit right with me either. I doubted that God made his boomers just to shoot at.

One morning, as I sat on top of a steep hill waiting for the sun to come up and the game to start moving about, I noticed many small oak trees on the hill. Acorns are heavy, especially this variety. They were as big as chestnuts and probably weighed several ounces. I hadn’t seen this particular variety before.

I strolled down the hill and crossed a small valley to another hill and found the parent tree, a huge oak about four feet in diameter. I was puzzled. How did the acorns travel across a valley to another hill? The wind didn’t blow them, that was for sure, and floodwaters don’t run uphill. I saw something move out of the corner of my eye. It was a gray squirrel leaping from a huge oak heading across the valley. I dropped the squirrel with a single shot. Imagine my surprise when I picked up the squirrel and he had one of those huge acorns lodged in his mouth! I had been shooting the planters of the forests! On the way home I said to myself, “So that’s why God made squirrels.”

A few years later, I joined the army and became qualified as an expert rifleman. “I have never seen anyone shoot like that,” I overheard the sergeant tell the lieutenant.

“He dropped 16 men (targets) in less than 20 seconds!” Later the lieutenant said to me “You could do that in Vietnam, too. The slant-eyes are just bigger game.” But I didn’t make it to Vietnam. An ulcer got me a medical discharge and I returned home to the mountains.

I still hunted some but I thought about the squirrels. If they were nature’s planters, what were the other animals’ jobs? Later I noticed holly bushes in sheltered mountain valleys, over 20 miles from their natural growing range. It was quite obvious that birds had carried the seeds this great distance.

By the time I was thirty I had quit hunting entirely and began studying the birds and animals. I read books on ecology and the environment. And I returned to the forests—this time with a camera instead of a gun. I watched the squirrels carefully. They would always follow the same path through the trees, swinging like trapeze artists. Occasionally I would see a flying squirrel gliding silently through the trees or a ruffled grouse blasting away like a rocket.

I marked the spots where the nuts carried by squirrels fell and returned in the spring to find small trees growing in those areas. I also observed the “worthless” red squirrels burying nuts. It occurred to me that nut-bearing trees, oaks, hickories, walnuts, chestnuts and many, many others all depended on the little animals to transport their seed throughout the forests.

It should be obvious to any thinking person that nature is a powerful but delicate force. Each living thing on the planet is striving for survival in one way or another, and striving to keep its kind from becoming extinct. Various species of plants, birds and animals have survived earthquakes, tornadoes, hurricanes, fires, floods and many other kinds of natural catastrophes only to fall victim to uncaring humans.

Hunters are directly responsible—to name a few—for the extinction of the passenger pigeon as well as many kinds of island-dwelling birds. The buffalo very nearly became extinct after hunters [retained by commercial interests] went after them largely to wipe out the Indians’ [main] food supply. Starve’em to submission.

This strategy left more than 50 million of the great creatures on the plains to decay in the sun. Hunters have brought the mountain lion, the grizzly bear, the whooping crane, and even the symbol of our nation, the bald eagle, to the brink of extinction.

I began studying hunters from “the other side of the fence:’ When working with hunters I would ask their opinions of hunting. One hunter’s reply was, “God made animals for me to eat - what else are they good for?” Another said, “It makes me forget my troubles to hunt and fish.” I thought long and hard about his statement. Humans vent their stress and their frustrations from daily life on innocent wildlife. Hunting is a one-sided game with only one winner—human beings. This is why hunters refer to birds and animals as “game”. When the hunter has hunted down and killed an animal, he has “won” the game. More often than not, the creature is killed for pleasure instead of for food. A certain sadistic pleasure is derived by killing another creature. When a human kills an animal the act fuels his ego: he has mastered the creature by taking its life.

Why else would a trophy hunter spend thousands of dollars, hike through steaming snake- and insect-infested swamps or climb steep cliffs to kill a magnificent member of another species? Why else would he cut off the head of his victim and leave the body to rot? Why else would he take the head to a taxidermist and mount it over his fireplace? He has dominated and killed the “beast”, and therefore hangs its head up for all the world to see that he is the mighty and fearless hunter. It is nothing but fuel for the insecure ego of small men.

The hunter, with the scent of death in his nostrils, has little respect for his neighbor who enjoys seeing the creatures on his property alive. “No hunting” and “No trespassing” signs are torn down or shot full of holes. A hunting license is a permit to kill indiscriminately. Our government sells out our wildlife for the price of a hunting license. Soon after becoming an anti-hunting advocate, I found my tame mallard ducks shot and floating on their pond. They too had enjoyed living and I enjoyed them. But some pervert found pleasure in their death. Once I observed hunters exterminating a covey of Bob White quail. Their cheerful calls can no longer be heard around the small mountain community where I grew up as a child.

TRADITION is perhaps the worst enemy of the animals: even our holidays call for the killing of birds and animals. These barbaric traditions, including hunting, rodeos and other cruel sports, are taught to children and thus passed down from generation to generation. Only a little more than a century ago blacks were considered to be animals and were treated as such. Similarly. during the second World War, Jews were considered to be subhuman by the Nazis, or perhaps even subanimal, and were killed by the millions.

Even today we abuse our fellow humans through boxing, wrestling and other cruel sports. How can the perpetrators of cruelty among us be expected to respect animals when they do not even respect humans? Before we can understand animal abuse we must understand ourselves. Humanity lives not by reality but by habits— often anchored in selfishness and staggering ignorance. It is this aspect of human nature we must work against.

If my story can, in some small way, influence the traditional way of thinking and the ignorant beliefs about our fellow creatures, I would be greatly pleased. This story is to aid our fellow creatures who have long suffered at the hands of mankind. May they someday live in peace, without suffering and fear.


not my words folks.....
Paul

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They maybe satisfying the same need and passion but definitely oppose each other when it comes to purpose and actions. While a hunter from the root word "hunt" the animals, for what to make money a photographer on the other hand just wanted to capture the moment of the animals on their own world. Photography won't hurt those being you know....and that's what i loved about it.

Paul,

WOW. I don't even know where to start. An article written by an anti-hunter intended to support his anti-hunting viewpoint and then given up as an example of why hunting is wrong. There are SO many things in that article I disagree with (and a few I do agree with) that there is not even any point in debating it. And as you pointed out they are not even your words. Now is someone else supposed to post a pro-hunting article? I can find writers and examples for and against any subject including for and against wildlife photography but that doesn't help support its position (in my mind) just provides another viewpoint. Posting an article like this to me is only intended to inflame the issue and is not supporting either side nor adding to the community of nature photography at all. What was your point to posting this? Just another piece of ammunition for you to prove that hunting is wrong? All I see is the intent to inflame. I don't get it.

These ARE my words from just a little bit above this post,

"I also question how the subject relates to nature photography when it comes to the core of it. It seems more to divide nature lovers into two camps, the killers and the saints."

You don't think the animal you shot and killed shed a tear too Les?

You don't think he was enjoying the beautiful summer mornings hanging out with his or her friends, courting a mate who later gives birth, then raising those children ---meant nothing to that animal? Sunshine, soft breezes, refreshing rains, smells of spring flowers and fall leaves, the rejuvenating coolness of a waterfalls, the exhilaration of a strong run through the woods, the tranquility of bedding down at night meant nothing to that animal you killed? You don't think he will miss all that? You may find argument with what I just wrote--but there is one thing that that you cannot deny. Animals want to live just as strongly as we do. Their survival instinct is no less than a humans. And I have watched them enough through my lens to know that they love being alive. They enjoy life just as much as we do--can you agree with that at least?

Now I'm now wanting to get on you about anything. But reading this paragraph, and others that you have written, it's clear that you hunt for many reasons. Tradition, bonding with your son, being outside of cold mornings before sunrise, respect for life, for death, reverence for wildlife, and many other things as well. And there is nothing wrong with all that as far as just about anybody is concerned. But the thing that strikes me is that all those things are personal. They are about what you want. What you believe. Or what you think or feel. And it is the emotional response to the entire experience and high that gets the blood really moving, that makes it something you love to do. Right? I mean the hunt encompasses way more than just a kill--and that is truly why you love it. No? The excitement of a trip, packing up and planning, breakfast over a fire, friends you haven't seen in a long while, time with your son, a feeling of securing your own food as people did for thousands of years before refrigerators, a feeling of taking of responsibility for your survival destiny, a unity with the outdoors, an inspiration of spiritual proportions for the circle of life that you feel you are a part of, a pride for the "hands on" approach rather that letting some factory worker do the dirty work for you. I don't know Les--Do any of these ring true? Am I getting any of it right? I'm sure there's a great many more things you could add.

Hard to argue with those things Les. Sounds all good really.

But the glaring hole in the entire endeavor that I'm questioning is that all these things are selfish motives. They are for your enjoyment, pleasure, and sense of fulfillment. Your not killing an animal just for food your killing so you can get a personal experience from it. The food I'm sure is part of it, but without the rest of the kicks associated with it, I doubt you and a lot of others would go through the trouble. I guess I'm saying that there is a difference between hunting for food because one needs to just eat something and this so called "feel Good" sport hunting.

So where does the animal and his or her life play into all this final act, and his or her personal desires for life ?--or is that irrelevant? This is more closer to the core of what I am asking. What about the animal?

Now you should understand something here Les--I know from reading many of your posts that you are an ethical man. I am not questioning that. Here's something else--and you might have to bear with me for sometime with it--this thread is NOT about antihunting--at least as far as my intent is concerned. And I do not judge people--including you. Please believe me when I tell you these things.

But I am asking tough, personal maybe, questions.

If those questions make anyone feel threatened or angry, yet I have been polite and respectful--and I feel I have--then why the insecurity? What exactly is being threatened here and why?

Paul

See I don't think Roy Dallos was trying to tell everyone else not to hunt. The way I read the whole thing was that he gave testimony and personal thoughts to what his life experience taught him. I think he made some very poignant and insightful points. And I'm afraid if his words make anyone angry then why would that be? What's wrong or misguided about his personal revelations? There is a big difference between a person stating what they believe in, and why, and that same person saying everyone else should do the same. Dallos gave a testimony--but why is that so threatening to anyone? Is there some insecurity or doubt about a believe system perceived to be under attack? If so could we talk about it?



I did not post his story to inflame either. I posted it because Dallos sited perfectly logical examples of why we should respect an animal and it's desire to live, or why that animal should live because there is a much higher authority that created it and that animal has a purpose for being here--even if no one knows what for. Just because hunting is used for example, doesn't mean it's all about hunting, or anti hunting. But hunting brings all the philosophical, emotional, spiritual, and pragmatic, relationships we have with animals to the forefront and puts it into one's face. Just like studying war puts all aspects of humanity on the examination table for all to see. THIS is why I bring up hunting Les--please try to understand this.

Just look one more time at Dallos's closing statement--

"If my story can, in some small way, influence the traditional way of thinking and the ignorant beliefs about our fellow creatures, I would be greatly pleased. This story is to aid our fellow creatures who have long suffered at the hands of mankind. May they someday live in peace, without suffering and fear."

Sounds like a testimony to me...I don't see any indictments.



Paul

Isn't everything mentioned in this post only about the needs and desires and benefit and pleasure of the fisherman? Not a single word about having something to eat so as to get by another day of survival. Is that hunting(I guess that's what fishing is about too), or is it all for a selfish set of motives? Nothing wrong with any of those things mentioned -for real- I want the same for sure. But I wouldn't dream of hurting an animal of any kind to secure such joys. Sorry for asking if that offends, but I"m thinking this illustrates perhaps a way of thinking--in a societal way--that should get examined.

Paul

Nope. I have tried to get you to understand before that this thread has nothing to do with judgement ... AKA "killers and saints"

And if you indulge for a while, I think this thread will have a very profound effect on your photography. But you'll have to participate with a little more sincerity than you have, open your mind maybe to some new ideas, and just plain give me a break and a chance to bring ideas together.

Paul

Sure.

When and if you want to speak up do so completely at your own discretion.

Paul

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