barbaro and barbarians

Barbaro and The Barbarians

Michael Bryant / Inquirer

"Man is the cruelest animal." Friedrich Nietzsche

What is it about our culture that makes us accept--even

applaud--grievous injury to human beings while at the same time we

abhor even the hint of harm to animals?

No, this isn't about animal rights. Well, yes it sort of is, but it's

really more about human rights.

I'm willing to bet more people turned away in horror from Barbaro's

breakdown and limping gait at the Preakness Saturday than from the

sight of Phillies center fielder Aaron Rowand slamming into a metal

fence May 12.

Okay, partly that's because Rowand walked away a hero. Injured but

alive, with a broken nose and a fractured eye. Bloody but unbowed. He

sacrificed his face to make a game winning catch. And Rowand will be

back on the field. He already showed up in the dugout this week to a

well deserved standing ovation.

Barbaro got his own ovation, but in defeat, not victory. In response

to a crushing loss. No win at the Preakness, no Triple Crown, nothing.

And his fate is far less certain. Even if he survives, his racing days

are over. It's a heartbreaking injury for a thoroughbred horse.

But. It's. A. Horse.

Yes, Barbaro is a 25 million dollar horse. A champion. If he lives

he'll make his owners millions more in stud fees.

I'm not sure what Aaron Rowand's contract with the Phillies is worth,

but for sure no baseball player ever gets that latter benefit. Well,

maybe Pete Rose. No, just kidding.

What's not so funny is the peculiar reflexive reaction most people

feel if an animal gets hurt. I'm on board as an animal lover, grew up

with cats and dogs, still have a cat. And no, I won't get into that

boring debate. If you love your pet and he/she/it loves you, that's

all that matters.

Just to add to my creds, I've cried and mourned sincerely when various

of our pets died or had to be put down. And I talk to the cat when

we're alone together. Don't ask.

On the other hand, if somebody said, Your pet or your kid, which one

dies? No contest. In fact if they said, Your pet or another human

being ... pretty much no contest there either. Admittedly pedophiles,

terrorists, murderers and such would give me a harder ethical dilemma.

But still.

People. Animals. Food chain. Do the math. It's as old as time. And in

this modern age, somebody's got to kill a lot of animals if we want to

eat chicken, pork, lamb and beef.

Which brings up another issue: I'm not against hunting either. I don't

like it, but if it's legal and the animals aren't endangered,

hunting's really no different from fishing. As long as it's a fair

fight. You don't fish with an AK-47 and you don't need a

shoulder-mounted missile to bag a duck.

What bothers me is the way our culture marginalizes, lionizes, even

monetizes violence against humans in entertainment ... and accepts

with far too little protest the very real violence against humanity in

a war.

People get beaten senseless and knocked off left and right on the

Sopranos, but hey, it's a TV show. Yet the same viewer vultures go

postal if Bambi's cousin is hit by a car or a kitten gets stuck in a

drainpipe. Has Walt Disney's anthropomorphizing of animals so seeped

into the collective American consciousness we can't distinguish an

animal from a real person?

No living, breathing creature should be made to suffer. And no one

should celebrate when they do. Violence is bad. Period. But we need a

reality check about who comes first. And a priority makeover about

what's really important.

If the news media carried on half as much over every injured soldier

or civilian in Iraq as they did about one horse, we might get the hell

out of this horrible war.

Let's remember, if Barbaro lives, he'll father lots of children. Dead

soldiers never will.