By now, as with Cecil the Lion, everyone has heard the unfortunate tale of Harambe, the 17-year-old silverback gorilla who was shot dead after a 4-year-old boy fell into the gorilla enclosure at the Cincinnati Zoo over the Memorial Day weekend.The boy's mother—and the criminal father—were total imbeciles, morons, cretins, pick whatever adjective designating a complete lack of brainpower you choose. I can say this much—I am not going to pull this garbage of "well, let's be grateful, because an endangered animal died so that a human child could survive."
That human child, one Isiah Gregg, has a gang-banging father and a pea-brain of a mother, who cares more about social networking than one of her own brood. Young Isiah stands a real chance with parents like these, doesn't he? He'll probably be stealing cars or robbing elderly people ten years from now. But, never mind, because thank God he survived that encounter with Harambe—who, by the way, instinctively saw it as his duty to protect the beloved boy. It was only when other human beings—this oh so intelligent species, the best planet Earth apparently has to offer—started freaking out after the unfortunate boy fell into the gorilla pit that Harambe could be regarded as a danger.
I don't blame the zoo. A tranquilizer dart was not an option, because if it failed, if Harambe who was already distressed by gormless human beings screaming and squawking upon his retrieval of Isiah felt something sharp in his butt or his side, the gorilla could have accidentally crushed the child.
Nonetheless, I must ask where the people most prominent in Harambe's life were, the ones he knew and trusted. Where the hell were they? Could not one have approached Harambe with his favorite food, while another got the boy and ushered him out of the enclosure? Was shooting that gorgeous animal really the only option? If the zoo had non-lethal options and failed to execute them, then they should be thoroughly audited by the relevant authorities and fined if need be.
However, as animal expert Jeff Corwin said in response to this absurdly stupid and pathetic excuse of a "mother," Michelle Gregg, and all those who would defend her, "the zoo is not your babysitter". What kind of society have we become to assume that as soon as we leave our homes, the rest of society will somehow look after our children? Have we really been dumbed down so much, and so addicted to the idea that government is God, and has an invisible force in the ether that will automatically protect us and our snot-nosed progeny, so that nothing could ever befall us? Not even the Romans during their Empire's fall were as blind or as irritating as this.
All I can really ask of you, dear reader, with regard to this sad, sad case is this: Are you truly not convinced yet that having to have an IQ test before procreating is a great idea, perhaps the only one that could truly save mankind? Yes, I know intelligent people can be evil, but a profoundly stupid person can be the death of us all too. At least someone with smarts is someone we can expect to reason with. May not work, but at least we will have given it a try.
It is a real sickness that we elevate motherhood to the status of idolatry, one that we cannot criticize lest we be offensive. We're expected to genuflect before any yoga pants-wearing, pram-pushing airhead, with her pilates and her selfies, her complete lack of discipline, either for herself or her precious angel/s, the losers she attaches herself to, her whole nickel-dime existence. I'm not going to do that. I've had it with the whole cult of motherhood bullshit in this society. Show me some measure of responsibility attached to it and maybe then I'll change my mind. You do not get points with me simply for breeding. That could not possibly impress me any less.
Who decrees human beings above the rest of the creatures of the Earth in terms of intelligence, knowledge, sentience or emotional capacity? Humans themselves do. Does that not seem incredibly assumptive at best and egotistical at worst? You followers of organized religion, do you not realize what assholes you are for buying into this? Hey, if St. Thomas Aquinas said that animals feel nothing and are nothing, then we know we are doing our bit for humankind by treating them that way. Can I get a round of "hallelujah"? Don't get me wrong. I believe in God, fully and absolutely. I'm not an atheist; I don't embrace the concept of nothingness. However, my faith is such that I fully expect that if my career consisted of killing rodents, felines or any other member of Animalia for medical research—you know, for the good of dearest mankind—He would have some very serious words with me upon me making his acquaintance. I could probably expect at least 500 years of purgatory, and I would deserve it.
Now cue the advance of the real bottom-feeders: the media—NBC, ABC, BBC—approaching Michelle Gregg to give her a platform on which to sound off, and possibly to announce that she's going to hire some dirtbag, criminal suck-ass lawyer to sue the zoo. How do we know that this wasn't a scam from the get-go? Especially given her husband who is not exactly the definition of law-abiding?
Even if it wasn't a con on their part to get fame and a huge pay-out, I have had it with feckless, irresponsible people metaphorically taking a huge dump on the sidewalk and simply trotting away from it scot-free and expecting the rest of us to walk around it. Let us just allow people to cause damage without consequences because we'd be full of micro-aggressions if we held them to it. The police don't pursue the happy couple, the zoo won't press charges. Right, just let these colossal blockheads go home with their precious son and tell the world that everything is just ducky, because a boy was safely returned to his family. Smiles all around!
Feeling good yet? Has news of little Isiah Gregg's incredible survival at the hands of a dumb beast made you feel superior, dear reader?
Well, I'm not smiling. I'm nowhere within the vicinity of even approaching it.
Michelle Gregg, I hope the police not only investigate you, but that the Cincinnati Zoo changes its collective mind and decides to throw the book at you. You should be brought up on charges of child abandonment, parental neglect and the destruction of precious and very valuable property. Not that I believe in animals being labelled as such, but, alas, there is no other way of achieving justice for them than through that method.
You, Ms. Gregg, can take your "accidents happen" bullshit and cram it up your keister. Whatever it takes to smack that satisfied smirk off your face, ruin your life and leave you with nothing, I'm all in favor of it.
You should have let hubby, Deonne Dickerson, go into the gorilla pit. After all, if Harambe was going to die anyway, then he could have taken that worthless piece of human flotsam out beforehand.
That, mes amis, would have been cause for some celebration.
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