An Epitome of the Absurd

I just had to take a moment from my day to say something. I suspect most people don’t hunt for sport. Some do, sure, but certainly not a lot. Not in Canada anyway.

Places like Africa and Australia, I think sport-hunting is more of a thing. But even then, most people, more or less, don’t kill animals for sport.

Right?

But then there’s sport fishing. And people are most definitely still sport fishing. Lots of people. Millions. All around the world.

What the fuck?

If your passion, hobby, or sport involves terrorizing, torturing, harming, and killing animals, you need to stop and ask yourself some hard questions.

Seriously.

And I am specifically talking about sport-fishing here. We can argue the merits of vegetarianism another day, but if the end result of a fishing expedition is a plentiful bounty that feeds people, we can sit down and have a conversation about that.

But when I read that smelly, bony, inedible fish are being hunted en mass for the sadistic pleasure of men with toys who think their pleasure is paramount to all, it definitely leaves a sick taste in my mouth. A disgusty, fishy taste.

And it’s an epitome of the absurd. Not the epitome, because that accolade is shared among a stable of pathologically cruel human behavior.

I can’t believe I’m about to say this. But if you fish for sport, maybe it’s time you try golfing.