Sit, Lion!
Sit, Lion!
By Wes J. Pimentel
There’s no way you’ve missed the subject of this next piece. I’m speaking, of course, of television shows that criticize animals for “attacking” people. They take many forms; “When Animals Attack,” “When Good Pets Go Bad,” etc. It’s basically the same message; “Watch how weird these animals are acting.” Unless you’ve been in a cave for the last twenty years, you’ve seen at least ONE of these shows.
The layout of the segments is pretty much the same. Each video starts with people and beasts (or one beast), unnaturally juxtaposed in a seemingly harmless scenario (or a scenario so ridiculously, obviously dangerous it makes you wonder how those smart humans ever got involved with this activity in the first place), until the animal does something and is criticized for it by Mr. I-just-don’t-see-what-made-this-animal-do-this narrator.
People will be gathered around a lion, for God’s sake. A LION. Petting it, interviewing it, whatever these genius people believe is normal to be doing around a lion. Then, to put it in the words of Mr. Narrator, “The unexpected happens!” The unexpected? Are you serious? I’ve been expecting the lion to snatch that bitch up the whole time. The only “unexpected” part of this whole video is the fact that ol’ Mufasa didn’t go lion a whole lot sooner.
The same with the bulls. They’ll show a bleeding, exhausted bull, covered with confetti or tomatoes, or whatever the very sane humans thought was an appropriate adornment at the time. Then, the “crazed” bull will go after one of the sword wielders, or tomato throwers, or runners, or whatever. I like to call them idiots; that pretty much covers all the bases. I said, ‘crazed’ bull because that’s what the narrator calls them. Yeah, they’re crazy. Not the drunk jack-ass running down a six-foot wide alley right in front of the bull. Not him. He’s a human. He’s gotta know what he’s doing.
Anyway, the bull will usually proceed to express his gratitude for all the beating, taunting, and torture in the only way a bull can. He fucks him up. He takes his big bull horns, powered by his big, (able to throw around a vehicle) bull neck and performs a variety of thank yous. There’s the “projectile human,” where the guy (or girl) is launched a couple stories in mid-air, by far the most merciful of the bull’s arsenal. Then there’s the “break-dancer.” This, I believe is irrefutable evidence of artistic creativity in animals. The bull’s gotta be doing this on purpose. You may have noticed this. It’s where the bull turns the human into a rag-doll with a trampling, or a wall slam, or a nice goring. After said person is incapacitated the bull will poke them in an arm or the back with a horn and spin them repeatedly. You would swear the bull knows what break-dancing is. They make these people look like pizza dough! It’s great.
Finally, my favorite; what I like to call the “sock-puppet.” This is the move where the bull identifies the slowest guy in the arena, chases him until the guy slowly tries to jump over the little five-foot “protective” barrier, then inserts one of his horns directly into the guy’s anus, and suspends him like that for a couple moments. “Crazed” bull? Yeah right. That bull’s a genius! He knows exactly what he’s doing. If a bunch of people kept fuckin’ with you like that and you had four clubs for feet, a forklift for a neck, and two giant spears attached to your head, would you want to sit down and discuss it? Hell no! You would very rationally fuck up as many people as you could, before they made burgers out of you.
What do we expect? You take a horse, a magnificent physical specimen, coop it up in a tiny stable and hand feed it carrots for ten years, then wonder why it bit you! I got a better question; what took it so long?! “Why did he bite me?” How ‘bout “why am I incarcerating an innocent horse?”
The leashes kill me, too. I’ve seen leashes on a lion, a bear… Do you honestly believe that leash is doing something? The only reason that bear hasn’t eaten the leash and then you for dessert, is that he believes it’s safety equipment for him. It’s like when your boss hands you a hard-hat, you don’t ask any questions, you just put it on. That bear is choosing to hang out with you. Trust me, as soon as he gets sick of doing circus tricks he’ll let you know and I’ll be the first one cheering him on from my living room when they present it on the next one of these shows.
“Shark attack.” What the hell does that mean? An attack requires a certain level of emotionality, doesn’t it? I don’t believe there’s one iota of anger or malice on the part of the shark while they try to eat us, any more than I believe I’m going to assault my next meal. There’s no such thing as a “shark attack.” There are shark snacks and shark meals. The only difference is how hungry the shark is. “Jaws” is only a movie. Sharks don’t have personalities, just a lot of really sharp teeth that they will use on your ass the next time you go swimming; just like God intended. If you don’t have fins or gills or really big sharp teeth, how do you expect to defend yourself against a shark? A wetsuit? A surfboard? Sharks call those things garnish. Then they blame the shark, like he’s supposed to let you live just because you’re trying to have some fun. How about don’t wear neon-yellow in shark neighborhoods? How’s that for a plan? Does that make too much sense? No, let’s do everything in our power to attract the attention of an animal that has spent the last 5 million years becoming the perfect killing machine. In fact, let’s look as much like his favorite food as possible. “Frenzied shark.” We have got some nerve, don’t we?
So, there you have it, folks. Animals don’t attack, they don’t “go bad,” they’re not crazy and they don’t rage. They’re animals. They do animal shit. They bite, claw, sting, pounce, maul, and eat because that’s how God wants it. Now get away from that cobra.