Animal Harm - Chapter 4 - Part 1
On the History of Harm in Animals
Chapter 4
To a pig, words are more meaningful than actions. After all, what action could a pig partake in that could communicate or affect a world that wasn’t made for them? The humorous experience that lead to Genevieve’s father’s immolation was trite, meaningless, and cliché. Yet, the mechanical reason he immolated was because he could foresee how a human would “experience” the experience. I guess one could call that empathy. It was not the actions that disgusted the pig, but the human gaze: the language of observation. Lines and circles, meaning out of harm, the human flaw of wanting to salvage a broken home from the fires of salvation: these were the things that broke his little pig heart. And thinking of his wife, that it was done for no reason at all. This sort of thing is impossible to describe, i.e. what the pig really felt, but if I were to attempt to describe the humorous “human” “experience” (i.e. to describe it as if anything meaningful could spawn from a rebaño of people), it would be something like…
A Glossary of Human Terms
Shame: Empathy, what made it obvious mankind had committed its original sin
One December morning, the lil’ hick came back with a proposed mate. The choice surprised the big hick, and instantly his heat shifted towards his genitals. This shocked the pigs. They had learned not to be surprised by humans at this point, but murdering his daughter’s lover in cold blood? In front of his daughter? Seeing no mallet in sight the pigs wondered how he was going to do it; and as the man rose his hand, he extended it toward the lover in a relatively vulnerable position. The mother’s relief moved her heat away from her heart. Her heart is where her heat would go when she was preparing herself to forget something. The pigs were used to observing when company came over because it was the only time humans ever did anything interesting.
The handshake would last a couple of moments and the daughter would try and make the father feel better about her choice of lover by listing his “accomplishment after accomplishment”. Of course, an accomplishment was the human word for a façade of dignity to be conveniently discredited whenever the observer felt threatened. The ultimate purpose of an “accomplishment” was, in essence, a topic of conversation. In fact, regarding prejudiced groups, accomplishments were more offensive than falling into expectations. This is the extent of molestation, the only thing that was sacred were the preconceived notions inculcated by the watermill of convenient ideas created by someone for some reason. Everything was in relation to the idea whether in support of or against it: the framing always remained intact. Although words and actions were sufficient in drawing the framing, the subtlety of molestation was ruined by the pigs’ ability. Which in this case created a constellation of spotlights where regardless what face the family showed, their heat and attention would always point towards the lover.
The hotspots of the parents’ attention flared and shifted relative to the lover’s proximity to precious heirlooms. To be fair, considering the (relative) pittance of their combined inheritance, (at least compared to the main family) the heirlooms were the only proof that their parents could even understand the concept of the formality of caring about their children. Obviously, you can’t take that shit to the grave anyway, so it would be weird to not give them to someone (although some people’s disdain at their children’s lack of talent did lead them to this). The trade of heirlooms for financial security was the method by which the mediocre could build towards making the lives of their descendants easier. At times descendants would use that ease to philosophize, sometimes about ways to reduce harm, but mostly about things that would justify their ancestors’ mediocrity.
Dinner was awkward, a formality the humans were accustomed to. The lover fixated on his plate, looking up at the optimal intervals to make it seem he wasn’t avoiding eye contact, but also not so often that he was lording his relative power over them: hoping not to make the situation more difficult for the parents. Ultimately, he was in the right, he had convinced the girl to want him, and in such a manner that she would debase (from her/their perspective) herself in any manner just to prove to her parents that she had autonomy over them. After all, she never had to come back. After nearly 2 decades of control the father had over her, times where she had to accept the deluded reasoning de un hacendado mediocre; she finally had the power, at any moment; to leave the table: she coated her teeth, an after taste of semen: the dream of her inbred forefathers—what they really did the raping and pillaging for. She didn’t even enjoy food anymore because it went straight to her belly. The counterbalance between attractiveness (at least at the time) and energy was one of god’s cruelties. Hicks believed that the purpose of food was to have enough energy to think about sex.
This understanding of his powerlessness enraged the father, ballooning his penis to a tenth of its strength. The mother being used to how horny shame made her husband feel began to prepare herself: for the minutes of degradation, hours of shame, and years of tears that would follow. The father was conflicted, it wasn’t fun fucking with his wife anymore, and her daughter was too far gone. There was only one person left to speak with. The lover would respond to the father’s interrogation in efficient and respectful strokes; always making sure to avert eye contact a couple of moments after he finished speaking just to make him feel better ☺, occasionally holding the young lady’s hand and smiling in a romantic non-sexual way, just like her father always wanted (at least according to the books, not in his heart of hearts). Dreading the night, and to maintain some agency, the mother would attempt to begin conversation. However, every time, the moment the mother tried to begin conversation, as if subconsciously triggered, the lover would complement her cooking. This act of obliviating kindness allowed her to talk about the process and the methods of acquiring the ingredients. There were at least 15 unique pieces of edible items on the plate; some of them were even organic, and some, humanely killed, at least to human standards, which provided ample conversation to pass the dinner without incident. After the dinner, the woman commented on how nice the boy was and that perhaps he deserved his accomplishments. The male gently grabbed her hips, gave her a kiss on the back of her head, and pressed himself against her ass: aligning himself so she could feel every inch of his power––down to her Achilles. The concept of kindness was so foreign to these people that the display, of both the father and the lover, really was, from their perspective, all kindness could ever be––not driving the knife in.