Day 19 - Jan 19th

IBIS

Sawdust

Peanut shells on the bar floor.

Isn't that cool?

Not really.

What is it like

For that to be enough?

Probably better.

A bigger piece of pie for you

Of the world.

To be buffeted by midnight trade winds.

Such things can be harnessed,

But never owned.

We like to watch normal birds

In the zoo enclosures

Fly in.

All of a sudden,

Unremarkable plumage—

"I've seen you before"—

Is adorned.

An Arkenstone for those that will see

With soft eyes,

He who grabs the sky with both hands.

"luk, itza bin chickinn!!,"

Says a flinty voice behind me.

Over and over again, she said it:

"Bin chickin,

Bin chickin."

At the zoo.

So while the sun bears placed

Their jaws obediently

On wooden bars

To have their teeth cleaned

With an electronic toothbrush

In exchange for treats,

He gazed upon the ibis

With his big soft eyes.

Niall Campbell

---

I have mixed feelings about the zoo.

I eat meat. I'm not particularly concerned - anymore than the next person - about the environment. There is probably a contrarian element in this—an issue with just how binary a purity test it seems to be on an individual level. I don't necessarily see recycling capacity or water wisness as the strongest or ultimate indicator of a good human. I have met some thoroughly reprehensible people who excel at both.

I know this is a cop-out and probably, in large part, a post hoc rationalisation of an upbringing that was low-key chaotic—one that spent its time covering this up and therefore lacked the logistical infrastructure to be "green."

To truly live a ‘green’ life requires fiscal and organisational affluence to go all in. Carbon offsetting flights and buying nice electric cars are not options available to everyone.

But in amongst all these reasons to not "do the right thing," which are ultimately not places I want to stay (i.e., I know my future, more actualised self will probably care more and may even—God forbid—be a conscious consumer or a vegan), I still struggle with the half-baked nature of many animal rights arguments.

If you own a rescue dog and are vegan, you can lecture me about animal rights and whether zoos are good or bad. Anything less, and I'm not really listening. Ironically, the people most qualified to pull you up on such things—the deeply invested—tend to be more "live and let live." A kind of quiet conviction. This is a fairly global phenomenon. For example, the astrophysicist with two PhDs is fine with being called Bob, while the rinky dink social sciences careerist, who spent seven years doing what amounts to activist school, insists on being referred to as Dr Jane Smith. you know the type.

I won’t take lectures about the evils of dog breeders over a chicken casserole. People’s obsession with their dogs and the granular detail they share about their illnesses at times baffles me. I love dogs. I like other people's dogs. But those who mention the welfare of children and dogs in the same breath stun me.

I have a Pareto distribution of care for animals. Humans get the lion's share. I do believe it is possible to extend loving kindness beyond the human race out into first the mammalian world and beyond, but this is premier League goodness. I'm not a major league player. I think I speak for the silent majority.

Still, it bothers me how much the left-brain coup of our lives has become invisible, the water we swim in. Factory farming and animal welfare are clearly places where we en masse have become incredibly desensitised and I am am guilty of being a very apathetic passenger in this regard. This became clear during a recent visit to the zoo with my son.

We went to see the sun bears, and they were getting their teeth cleaned.

The first thought out of my mouth was, "Cool," like a dipshit adolescent.

But as I watched the deeply ingrained Pavlovian conditioning of these rare and majestic animals, how routine the whole thing was, it hit me how we commodify, materialise, and dominate nature.

Sun bears likely get tooth decay because the zoo's diet is alien to them. I’m sure there’s a well-spun narrative of care, complete with zookeepers who genuinely love these animals. It’s not about bad apples—it’s the barrel. I doubt sun bears had tooth decay before their encounter with humans.

In the middle of this spectacle flew an Ibis. Another majestic creature, its reputation tarnished as a "bin chicken." In Sydney, this is now their name.

One flew into the pool in the bear enclosure. Ironically, in this orthogonal but no less artificial environment, it was freed from its own human-made urban ecological niche. No bins were in sight. It was restored to its glory.

My son watched the bears, but he also paid deep attention to the ibis.

So my advice to myself is to soften my gaze, as my son naturally does.

Even in the getting and grabbing of today, that narrow view doesn’t even maximise what it seeks.

Step back from the ball. Let your eyes soften and take in the arc of the shot. Pay attention to the feel, not the sight, and you’re far more likely to split the fairway.