From The Liberator: Remix
January 22, 2010
To date my being from the opening year,
I come, a stranger to this busy sphere,
Where some I meet perchance may pause and ask,
What is my name, my purpose, or my task?
My name is “LIBERATOR”! I propose
To hurl my shafts at freedom’s deadliest foes!
My task is hard—for I am charged to save
Animal from Man!—to redeem the slave!
Ye who may hear, and yet condemn my cause,
Say, shall the best of Nature’s holy laws
Be trodden down? and shall her open veins
Flow but for cement to her offspring’s chains?
Art thou a parent? shall thy children be
Rent from thy breast, like branches from the tree,
And doom’d to servitude, in helplessness
On “happy” farms, and thou ask no redress?
Thou, in whose bosom glows the sacred flame
Of filial love, say, if the tyrant came,
To force thy parent shrieking from thy sight,
Would thy heart bleed—because thy species is right?
Art thou a brother? shall thy sister twine
Her feeble arm in agony on thine,
And thou not lift the heel, nor aim the blow,
At him who bears her off to life-long wo?
Art thou a sister? will no desp’rate cry
Awake thy sleeping brother, while thine eye
Beholds the fences locking him in
Stretched out in rest, which hence, must end, for him?
Art thou a lover?—no! nought e’er was found
In lover’s breast, save cords of love, that bound
Man to animal kind! then, thy profession save!
Forswear affection or release thy slave!
Thou who art kneeling at thy butchers’s shrine,
Ask if peace takes such offerings as thine!
If in thy bonds the farm animal sighs,
Far higher than thy cholesterol his groans will rise!
Man can show mercy, and would see
The prison doors unbarr’d—the bonded free!
Man can seek truth, with purer eyes
Than to behold the oppresor’s sacrifice!
Avarice, thy cry and thine insatiable thirst
Make men consent to see their dinner cursed!
Tears, sweat and blood pus thou drinks’t, but, in their turn,
They shall cry “no more!” while E. coli bids men burn.
We hath said it!—who shall gainsay?
We say, “the wicked they shall go away,”——
Who are the wicked?——Wicked as cannibals,
They are the oppressors of their fellow animals!
Aid me, good people! ’tis my hope in you
Which gives me strength my purpose to pursue!
Do you not hear your sisters and brothers resound
With Nature’s sights to have her sons unbound?
Original by Anonymous/William Lloyd Garrison
Remixed by Peace Is Coming For You
Filed under: Food, The Liberator: Remix, Vegan, War/Peace | Tagged: abolition, america, animal rights, art, authority, beef, chicken, Civilization, dissent, E. Coli, Economy, eggs, factory farm, fascists, Food, government, humane, infectious disease, meat, milk, opinion, Peace, pet, pigs, police, polyface, pork, propaganda, remix, rights, slavery, Society, usa, usda, veg, veg*n, Vegan, vegetarian, War/Peace, world |