Regulation without Representation

It has recently come to my attention that the Obama Administration wants to regulate cat food. In making the announcement Secretary of Agriculture Tom Vilsack called cats "one of our sacred national treasures" and expressed concern that cats might be receiving food that is not worthy of "their elevated status".

I don't know anything about this Vilsack fellow, but what I eat is none of his damn business. He doesn't own me, he doesn't feed me, he doesn't pet me. In fact, he doesn't know me or anything about me. What perverted ideas does this man hold that he thinks he can tell me what I can eat?

Vilsack singled out Tuna and Egg as an example. Tuna and Egg happens to be my favorite treat. I don't get it often, and the thought of never having it again makes me want to hop on a bus and go poop in his shoes. But I don't have money for the bus fare and I doubt that my human companions will let me borrow their credit card.

But a deeper issue is at play here. My limited understanding of American history tells me that the colonists rebelled when England began taxing them without their consent. They disputed the right of the King to tax them while denying them representation. Regulating my food is no different--it is regulation without representation.

The last I checked, I am not allowed to vote. (I'm not allowed to drive either, but that is a different issue for a different day.) Even though I have no voice in electing the President or members of Congress, the federal government now proposes to come along and yank away one of my life's greatest pleasures. And why? Because Vilsack claims that Tuna and Egg contains tuna that isn't fit for human consumption.

Well I've got news for this intellectual retard--I'm not a human. I'm a cat. And I am perfectly happy eating whatever it is in the can labeled Tuna and Egg. Christ, I lick my butt after all. Why does he think I care about the quality of the tuna in my Tuna and Egg? I know why--because he is an intellectual retard.

I've got news for Vilsack. He can have my Tuna and Egg when he pries it from my cold, dead lips.

Thoughts on Animal "Rights"

The philosopher Peter Singer, among others, has written that it is "speciesist" to ignore the suffering inflicted upon animals by humans for food, clothing, entertainment, and other activities and values. In his book, Animal Liberation, he writes:

Racists violate the principle of equality by giving greater weight to the interests of members of their own race when there is a clash between their interests and the interests of those of another race. Sexists violate the principle of equality by favoring the interests of their own sex. Similarly, speciesists allow the interests of their own species to override the greater interests of members of other species. The pattern is identical in each case.

I may only be a cat, but this strikes me as patently absurd. If it is "speciesist" for humans to treat other animals differently from humans, then it is equally "speciesist" for me (or other animals) to do the same. For example, I prefer the company of other cats and find great enjoyment in pouncing on the occasional mouse or lizard that finds its way into my vicinity. But according to Mr. Singer, I must consider the feelings of these pathetic little rodents and reptiles:

If a being suffers, there can be no moral justification for refusing to take that suffering into consideration.

To be honest, I haven't given any thought to the suffering I inflict on these creatures. I have no choice in the matter. Does this make me immoral? Mr. Singer might argue that my lack of volition excuses me of any moral culpability. If this is the case, then volition would seem to be a distinguishing characteristic and one of vast importance.

But regardless of Mr. Singer's argument, the fact is that my very nature is fundamentally different from humans. I lack reason and the ability to make conceptual choices. The entire realm of morality does not apply to me, for morality applies only to that which is volitional. One cannot be held responsible for that which is beyond one's capacity to choose.

To further illustrate the absurdity of Mr. Singer's position, last night I wanted some Tuna and Egg instead of my normal dry food dinner. My human companions refused to satisfy this desire, resulting in what I can only describe as a brief period of intense suffering. Should I consider my human companions immoral for failing to provide me with Tuna and Egg? While I was admittedly disappointed, I don't think that any reasonable cat could declare such an oversight immoral.

I have more thoughts on this issue, but I just saw a lizard.