meat. gun. smoke
After a steak braai (cookout) on a cattle farm in Balgowan, KwaZulu -Natal, South Africa, Elliott (6)sees the jagged outline of a weapon on his father’s plate. He seizes the 'meat gun' by the handle and goes to play under the trees. ‘It smells so good’, he says, closing his eyes for a long time. Is this small human thinking, like I am, about the complicated relationship that humans have with animals? We love them, but so easily burn up the planet and extinguish them for food. Elliot's eyes flick open and he whips the bone around. It's a revolver, pointing at my face. I back away, feigning fear. We are laughing, but I am thinking about methane mushroom clouds. Meat. Gun. Smoke. Smoking gun. ‘When you blow out a candle the smoke is like God is leaving’, he says.
Our Taste for Flesh Has Exhausted the Earth
What do animals understand about death?
https://www.newyorker.com/magazine/2024/11/04/playing-possum-susana-monso-book-review
