I guess most people at least suppose they’re doing the best they can as the creatures that they are. Coping the best they can. Stumbling along, flawed and suffering. Lettin’ off steam when they can’t take it anymore. Or they honestly think might really does makes right because, you know, it rhymes.
But I can’t stop staring at the image of this brutalized turtle.
I really don’t know what we need horror films full of monsters and aliens for. Mirrors entail a far lower production cost.
It’s been pointed out to me that adorable, furry cats play rather horribly with the lives of mice, which domesticated cats kill even when they aren’t hungry. But are they ever quite this wantonly vicious? I’ve heard female chimpanzees will kill and eat rivals’ young; it seems evolution took a really sick turn somewhere on the primate family tree and it’s never looked back. Not that the pleasures of civilization don’t delight me, but it really isn’t worth all this. Those are only palliative joys. And what relief do the props used in frog baseball get? Death.
At least the turtle is finished suffering now. Not that someone somewhere isn’t beating an orangutan who wandered into a palm oil harvest, or beating a puppy, or throwing a sack of kittens into a rottweiler fight.