Paganistan: Notes from the Secret Commonwealth
In Which One Midwest Man-in-Black Confers, Converses & Otherwise Hob-Nobs with his Fellow Hob-Men (& -Women) Concerning the Sundry Ways of the Famed but Ill-Starred Tribe of Witches.
You've Been Invited to Attend an Animal Sacrifice. What Do You Do?
So: a friend invited me to a sacrifice. A real one: you know, killing an animal. Blood, all that.
Oh yeah, forgot to mention: I'm vegetarian. Been that way for more than 50 years now.
Am I going? You bet.
Will I eat any? Um...ask me again later.
No matter what kind of -vore you are, others die so you can eat them and live.
It's not the killing, it's how you kill.
I've said for years that one of the reasons why I don't eat meat—besides, frankly, not liking it much—is that I'm not willing to eat something that hasn't been killed properly: i.e., in a sacred way.
Has the hunter said the prayers and made the offerings?
Does the sacrificer know what she's doing?
Has the animal been killed respectfully and cleanly?
Well, now the bristles hit the breeze. Were these just words of convenience, or did I really mean them?
Frankly, I don't know.
If you're going to eat it, you have a responsibility either to kill it yourself, or to witness the death—at least from time to time.
Ethically speaking, that's my base line.
So I've been invited to attend an animal sacrifice and, yes, I'll go.
I'll honor the sacredness of what is being done.
I'll receive, in the ancient fashion, the blood on my brow. “Taking blood,” it's called.
Will I eat of the true-killed meat, though?
Um...Reply hazy. Try again later.
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