In the eyes of many, Kendall Jones’s first sin is that she’s from Texas. Compounding matters is the fact that she’s a blonde teenage cheerleader. But what’s chafing the flabby calves of the blogosphere’s sundry animal-rights misfits is the fact that she’s a big-game huntress who sees no shame in posing for pictures with the animals she’s just killed and then sharing the photos online. In their minds, this makes her a bigoted redneck privileged animal-murdering cracker—one who must suffer and even be killed for her transgressions.
Naturally, the Full-Time Shamers online are doing everything in their power to shame her. And since she is perceived to be preying on “defenseless” mammals, they also see no irony or hypocrisy in openly wishing that she gets brutally murdered: “You’re the pest – and need to be hunted down,” wrote one guest on her Facebook page. “I hope you get stomped to death by an elephant,” wrote another.
On Twitter, she’s facing the same sort of fire-breathing hatred that has become de rigueur among those faceless flesh-blobs who cloak their hatred behind a shield of compassion:
Kendall Jones is a piece of crap. Feed her to the Lions
— Michael Shadow (@yborcityfl) July 2, 2014
Kendall Jones, what a piece of shit
— Alexander Webster (@princezaet) July 2, 2014
#KendallJones a horrible human. Try hunting your "lions and tigers and bears" without a gun, then let's see who the bloody cheerleader is.
— MeganMonreaux (@MeganMonreaux) July 1, 2014
Someone give Kendall Jones a pair of running shoes and hand me a rifle. We'll see how long she defends her 'fair chase' logic.
— Felice Fawn (@felicefawn) July 1, 2014
What I’d like to see is for any of these perpetually outraged keyboard warriors to be dropped alone on the African plains with only their hands to defend themselves. Let’s see how loving and equality-minded the lions and hippos and leopards are to them then.
This is, yet again, why the idea of equality is so dumb and ultimately destructive—it ignores the fact that nature is largely more predatory and conflict-ridden than it is harmonious. It took untold millennia of evolutionary trials and errors for humans to get to the point where they were able to kill lions rather than be eaten by them, and suddenly we’re so soft and “evolved” that many of us see this as a matter of shame rather than of pride. This is a sign of a species in decline.
But the big giveaway—the thing that proves her critics are far more motivated by hostility than compassion—is the open bloodlust they fling at her. She is a threat to their herd mentality, so she must be shamed, stomped, eviscerated, and murdered. In their blind, dumb, rampaging self-righteousness, in their public-square chest-thumping quest to prove that they are somehow above other murderous humans, they ignore the fact that their unrealistically romanticized wild animals are also murderous. And the topper is that they reveal that deep down, they, too, are murderous animals. Every word they type shows blood dripping from their fangs. But they are simultaneously too dumb to see the contradiction and too cowardly to take matters into their own hands.
Personally, I love animals far more than I love people, which suggests a certain level of social maladjustment on my part. With rare exceptions, I’d rather spend time with a cat or a dog than with another human. But I’ve also run across people whose noses are buried so deep in animal waste, they can’t see how it’s warped their ability to interact with other humans on any meaningful level. I’m thinking in particular of a family member who at one point owned more than 90 cats simultaneously and who at last count owned 30 dogs and 20 cats, all of them stuffed into a tiny two-bedroom cottage. This person was pilled-up out of their head on near-lethal amounts of painkillers at any given time and didn’t seem to care in the least how their daughter had just fatally overdosed alone on pills in a motel room and how their stepson had morphed into an HIV-positive crack whore who routinely robbed the family of all their belongings. But God forbid one of the household’s numberless squirming canines came down with the sniffles—it was an immediate, all-consuming crisis.
This person also eagerly joined in all of the tiresome online petitions calling the for the heads of anyone suspected of animal abuse. I saw them express far more rage at the Michael Vick dog-torturing case than at the fact their daughter had died alone of an overdose. I witnessed them out of their mind with anger at a picture, possibly Photoshopped, of two grinning teen boys who’d just lynched a cat—far more anger than they showed whenever the HIV-positive crack-whore stepson would burglarize their house and strip it of everything worth more than $5.
So as much as I love animals, I’ve personally witnessed how anthropomorphizing them to the point where they have “rights” is often the domain of severely maladapted human beings—ones who suck both at being humans and at realizing they are also animals, with all of the selfish, predatory instincts such status implies.
In other words, it’s fine if you want to save the whales, but I doubt the whales give a fuck about you.