We all grew up hearing about the early settlers. They cleared the land, plowed the ground, planted crops, and built this nation.
Back then they also raised their own chickens and cattle, but when the time was right, our great grandparents slaughtered and ate them. The cow or sheep that won the blue ribbon was not headed for a life of luxury; they were headed to dinner—but not as a guest. Some historical memories are best if we ignore certain facts.
Memories aside, I like beef, pork, chicken, and almost anything that comes out of the sea—but I don’t need to see the activities in the slaughter house. Mind you, I’ve seen plenty of death, but watching the conversion of an animal to dinner is like watching someone plastering. It needs to be done, I enjoy the outcome, but don’t care about the process.
So why do I bring this up?
My neighborhood experiences a lot of new development. New houses! New Neighbors! How nice!
However, what really happens is, “See that lovely little plot of trees over there? Get rid of it! Because of the sea level rise (not caused by global warming, of course) the land needs about three feet of additional fill dirt, which will kill all the existing trees, anyway, so cutting them down is immaterial.”
Just get rid of all the trees, add dirt, concrete, a model home to encourage others to buy, and voila—a new neighborhood!
It’s almost like when great grandad first came to this country, cleared the land, and started farming. But not exactly.