Over the last couple of weeks, I’ve been watching a documentary series called “For the Love of Meat”, hosted by journalist turned farmer Matthew Evans. The main point of the series is to make people more aware of how their meat is produced, and how the animals are treated, particularly on “intensive farms”, where the focus is on high output.
In the introductory blurb, Evans says that he is a “dedicated carnivore”, and I actually think this is a really good thing because you’d expect these sorts of documentaries to be hosted by people intent on turning everyone into vegetarians. I feel like this documentary series is more about the question of how to farm meat sustainably and ethically, rather than the question of whether or not we should eat meat at all.
The other day, a friend of mine shared a photo of a large-scale sculpture of a couple of fish made mostly from plastic bottles. The sculptures are displayed on a beach (I think in Brazil somewhere) and were intended to draw attention to the amount of litter found on beaches and in oceans.
However, scrolling through the comments attached to the photo, I found out that the bottles were only glued on (with an apparently flimsy glue) and, over time, have begun falling off the sculpture. Kind of ironic, but I suppose the message was still getting through.
The photo was initially shared on FB by an organisation called “1 Million Women“, and came with the harrowing prediction that by the year 2050, there will be more plastic in the ocean than fish. After browsing their FB page briefly, I followed the link to their official website, and actually ended up spending about an hour just reading articles there.
It seems that I’ve unknowingly developed quite a backlog of door photos, so I might actually manage to publish kind of regular Thursday Doors posts on top of my regular blogging.
This week’s location is Burnett Lane, located in the heart of Brisbane’s CBD. I read online that it’s Brisbane’s oldest laneway, and, back in the day, was a prison exercise yard. It was also the site of floggings and hangings. Back in the day.
Today was a lovely day. A blue sky, mild weather sort of day. Brisbane springtime at its best. Around mid-afternoon, after having met up with a friend for lunch and a general catch up, I made my way over to my favourite grassy spot in South Bank to just sit and relax.
I’ve gotten into the habit of always (or almost always) bringing pen and paper, and a novel with me wherever I go; but today I’d also brought earphones, and decided I just wanted to sit back, listen to music, and people-watch. (Well, initially I did try to write a bit, but the inspiration wasn’t really coming, so I didn’t worry about it.)
For about two days, there has been a large black moth perched on the wall above the door to the bathroom. You know the ones – moths the size of butterflies, but black as soot with two piercing eyes emblazoned on their wings. I remember there were heaps of them around the old heritage-listed buildings of my high school. They seem harmless enough, but are still spooky as.
The other morning, as I watched it doing nothing, and contemplated showing it the way out, I started thinking about what it’d be like to be almost perfectly still, in one place, for two whole days. I wondered about whether the moth was bored, or whether it even had the capacity to feel bored or dissatisfied.
I wondered, hypothetically, if it had the capacity to comprehend “life” and “meaning”, whether it would mourn its lack of either. If the moth doesn’t understand sadness, does it likewise not understand happiness? Does it simply not care? Here, however, I’m imposing my own human ideas of “sadness” and “happiness” onto something that is not human. Surely that’s not fair…?
I wonder what the moth would say of its own life.
Isn’t the contemplation of life, in itself, such an incredible feat?
For some time now (over the last few months? this year? since last year? not really sure…) I’ve been pondering about the drinking culture in Australia, and reflecting on people’s relationships with alcohol (including my own). You don’t have to be an expert in public health to know that alcohol contributes to a lot of health problems (long- and short-term), and can lead to death. For some time, I’ve been thinking of writing a post about all this, but just kept putting it off. But when I read this post by George at The Off Key of Life, I thought I’d lend my support and do my bit (and basically add my two cents’ worth).