Coral Hull: Prose: I Will Never Live In Mosman: Killing The Vivisectors

I MACKENZIE KNIGHT I A CHILD OF WRATH A GOD OF LOVE I FALLEN ANGELS EXPOSED I

CORAL HULL: I WILL NEVER LIVE IN MOSMAN
KILLING THE VIVISECTORS

You know they make me as mad as hell. It's the little things, the lies and the ugliness of them that comes through in an interview, or in conversation, the laughter and their spitting on the laboratory rats and the tattooing of the word 'crap' onto a monkey's forehead. Killing the vivisector is a matter of fact, nothing heroic or proud about it. I'm just cleaning up, like putting out the rubbish bin. It's something that has to be done, a routine. It's so the animals can be released and I can get on with my life. But even with the firearm in my hand I let them go, quickly back to laboratories.

Now I am responsible for what they do. I had the choice to stop them from inflicting pain. They hurt those mad monkeys and half drowned dogs, the shivering agony of rats and rabbits who suffer long and quiet. Those animals would have pulled the trigger to end their suffering, but I do not do it. I am not directly affected like them. I am not them. They are not my family. There is no selfish sense of urgency. It's socially unacceptable to murder a vivisector, even if done humanely, and it's accepted by the society that a vivisector can torture and murder and get paid to do it. It's Red Nose Day, again.

I didn't kill them. Now I must live in a world where the mass murder and torture of animals is applauded. And you must live in it with me. A world where they torture, while we observe them while doing nothing and in this way condone it. If I don't kill them, in the end I can only choose to live beside them, desensitised. In this disinterested backdoor way, I will become like them. But once pushed to my limit I may pull the trigger. Maybe I would mow them down one after the other, if there were no repercussions for me afterwards. But it's more than that.

Why do I have to feel for their human life, when I know they are monsters perpetuating atrocities? My morality becomes stupidity. Even by their very actions they say 'I dare you to try the gun on me.' If I kill them will I become like them? Not really. They are professional animal torturers. I am doing this for the animals, not for the pleasure, the money, the applause or the government grants. But out of a sense of respect, compassion and duty. I'm doing it for the animals who haven't got a chance. But I resist. Is it the stupid ethics in me, or the outright gutlessness?

I have failed to rid the world of evil. But it's more than that. It's the fear of absolute failure. It is the fear that I would spend my entire life shooting vivisectors along that wall. It's the fear that every time I shoot one down, another will spring up again to take their place. In a combat situation I would be more likely to kill, if we each had guns. It would be a combination of the adrenalin, the situation of anger, pursuit and survival. It would be them against me. I would be more likely to kill, if not for the suffering animals then something personal, like my own survival.

When should we kill? When would you kill a human or a non-human? Even with these vivisector monsters lined up against the wall, I resist pulling the trigger. If only they would promise never to do it again, reporting back to me on their attempts at cruelty or compassion. But it would be like asking the stream to run backwards to the mountain. Is it in their blood? Are they are genetically predisposed to psychopathy, or is it an environmental illness, not as yet diagnosed and stopped by law?

If only they couldn't walk away from compassion, so easily and with a smile on their faces, the scalpels ready to cut and maim, the absolute suffering of their victims and the hundred thousand dollar government grants in their lab coat pockets. I am exhausted. Meanwhile there are infinite lines of monsters, animal torturers and life-haters with calm faces, telling the world that they have their own animals, whom they care about very much. They are flowing out of the medical establishment, the cosmetic industry, the agricultural schools and the veterinary clinics and universities. They have misrepresented their achievements for centuries.

The unsuspecting consumer who gives the donations and demands the products supports them. Where will it end? There are so many animal torturers. They don't want to learn while they earn a huge salary. They enjoy being sadists when they pretend not to be. How will I escape them and live with myself and the gun of hatred? I must say at this point that it is illegal to murder a vivisector, but that doesn't stop me spitting on them. I let the vivisector live and realised I had sacrificed many lives during the process. The honest reaction that any decent human being has towards the death of any animal abuser is not to be condemned but explored.

There is a difference between a child who squashes a mosquito and a vivisector who scoops out the eyeballs of kittens for twenty-five-years, saying he enjoys it while the public oppose it. He is looking for short-sightedness in human beings. But because they are cats and not humans, he hasn't found what he is looking for yet. "I really wanted to test on retarded children," he said, "but the establishment won't allow for it, I think it's against the law, but I can't be too sure about that. I guess so long as they keep funding me I'll keep looking at cats." But the cat couldn't look back. A vivisector is immoral because they know that what they are doing is wrong. But not only do they continue to do it, they enjoy doing it. They are sadistic but they're not stupid.

Have you thought of this scenario for ridding the world of vivisectors? If you died first and all of the vivisectors would die as a result of your death would you do it? Without thinking I say 'yes.' On some days of powerlessness, I say 'yes.' My eyes light up exploring the possiblity. There is relief when I think a little more about it. I think of the good people and how I try to be one of them. Then I think of all the vivisectors in the world, in Australia and in Melbourne and how bad I am. Then I think of the vivisectors and the prospect that my own death would abolish them and their torture of other animals. I say 'yes', so that it has become a decision rather than a reaction.

I almost slit my own throat there and then. I grab a knife and drive it across my skin, but it was just the toothbrush leaving a red mark. I had that much hope built up inside myself of finally ending vivisection, that I stupidly followed my own desperate daydream. I would do it but fuck that! Fuck those arseholes! Nothing would happen to them! By me ending my own life, it would simply be just one less person to oppose their sadism. Here's the news for the loveless psychopaths. I will be the last to go, not the first! I will be the last fucker to go, just in case it doesn't work and that I am mistaken. I don't trust this life for one minute, the life that said, 'if you did it, then all pain would end.'

Then there's the positive approach to humanity. That is, maybe the vivisector will go on to be the greatest spokesperson against vivisection on the planet and now look what you have done. You have shot them. Yet give them one more second alone with two dogs and you'll find out exactly how creative they can be. In a short space of time, with the right funding, there had been an exchange of heads, with the smaller dog already dead and the larger dog with the smaller dog's head. You try to be optimistic, thinking that karma exists, heaven and hell and all the punishment in the world exists for the wrong doers.

But the wrong doers know better. They know that there is no punishment. They have had great lives, they spit and laugh in your face, they are hard core atheists. Despite this, you say, 'I didn't have to kill them, they are doing it to themselves.' That's what we all like to believe, that evil will eventually turn on itself through some extraordinary act of god, that it will finally get what it just deserves for destroying its own source. But it takes a lot of good within it before it goes and for all the good it takes within it, its eventual demise at its own hands is never fast enough. But often it doesn't end at all.

The vivisector apprentice died by her own hand. When I first heard of how this vivisector had died I thought, good. A small justice has finally been served and that's another one out of the way, another one I don't have to shoot. It was a neat feeling of a task well done, a job completed. It was as if I had lived a lifetime in a very tidy fashion. It was like shutting the filing cabinet drawer or putting the vacuum cleaner away underneath the sink with the cord wrapped up inside it. Good, I thought. Yet if there was justice in the world, she wouldn't have been able to torture those monkeys to begin with and she would still be alive.

I then spoke to a few monkeys about her death and they didn't even care about anything. They simply knew that the pain had stopped, just as if it had rained one day and then not the next. I tried to understand why I thought 'good,' that this vivisector who was a daughter and who may have been a mother of a wife, contracted the herpes virus that she had been injecting into the monkeys. It was her dose of the same medicine. I was satisfied. It was karma, punishment, justice, hell. She did it to herself without me lifting a finger. It was good. It was making sense of good and evil.

I thought, good. The death of the apprentice animal torturer means that all her future animals victims are now saved. However this goodness in the world only works if a lot of animal torturers die very quickly, and if there is no-one to replace them. This is not true in the case of the apprentice vivisector. The monkeys were not saved because of her death. She is immediately replaceable within that industry. Some other animal torturers, who enjoy injecting the herpes virus into monkeys, will now want her job and her big fat government grant.

The physical death of the apprentice monkey torturer, who might have been a mother, doesn't mean that more evil has left the world, never to be replaced. There is one more just like her, being born into the world every second, in order to take that torturer's place. Is the answer education? Without a radical shift in conscience or co-consciousness, the deaths of millions of animal torturers all at once, the world will just perpetuate itself. The monkey that she injected will be injected the next day, by someone else who hasn't learnt yet.

I thought, good. The quick and easy death of any animal torturer means that I don't have to work as hard to try and convince them not to do cruel things to others. Good, because it takes a long time, a very long time to make it illegal to torture others. We are losing millions of animals a second. No one even cares about their own species, their families, their children, their own health. It is hard to make them care about monkeys or small white mice, when there is the low hum of pain that permeates the world.

It is a very hard earth to live on. Sometimes we just want to rest or flick a button to blow all the evil out of the place. Other days I want to get the fucking medical establishment who torture animals up against a wall outside the lab and shoot them all down. We shoot when we are very weary and the murder, mutilation, torture and genocide become too much. It's like someone comes knocking at the door again and you say, 'no thanks, no murder, torture, mutilation and genocide today. Thanks anyway.' 'Okay, well perhaps another time then.'

When we see everything good slipping through our fingers, it's like we are holding the last cup of water in the desert without being able to drink it and the minute our fingers open, it will fall into the sand dune evaporating before it even reaches the surface. It's like we get hot and tired and even as we hold that last cupful of water in our hands, our fingers are growing weary and the sun evaporates the moisture licking it off our lifelines. How long will it take people to understand that inflicting torture on others is wrong? We want the suffering to stop now. We always want the easy way out. We're talking about being loving here. Is that too much to ask?

It's not as if we're asking to win the lottery or anything. We just want some peace and joy for life on earth. It seems like the basics to me. We don't really want to waste the bullets on them. What we really want dead is the cruelty, greed and stupidity that exists within the monkey abuser. We want that to die so that the monkey she is torturing will live. Then maybe we would have a discussion with her over lunch the next day. But as it turns out she couldn't help herself, she had to keep hurting the monkeys and now she is dead from it.

I thought, good, because the death of the animal torturers doesn't mean as much to me as the death of a monkey lover. I do not believe that every human life has equal worth on this earth. You say that if lions in Africa could experiment on monkeys they would. The way that life on this earth operates nothing would surprise me. I oppose it, you know, we all oppose it sometimes. Where does compassion in nature come from, when there seems no logical place for it? Why are human beings compassionate; at least some of them on some occasions?

You say that all life is equal, but in the eyes of what and who? The way that we are losing all life on earth, I think that the life of someone who tries to alleviate suffering is worth more than someone who spends every day of their life torturing and murdering others. Then again, we do not want to see the animal torturers who may have been mothers die, we only want the badness, stupidity and greed that exists inside them to die. We want their ignorance and their actions to die. Do their hearts have to stop beating before they will stop harming monkeys?

When I think that the amateur vivisector might have had children, her physical death makes me even sadder. The fact that she tortures animals all her life, and is responsible for children as well, makes me sadder than her death. The saddest thing is not her death, or her early and dreary departure. But the fact that she was an animal torturer killed by her own actions. If she had changed herself inside, she wouldn't have died and her children, if she has any, wouldn't have lost a mother. Her own act of cruelty killed her and many others before her and that is sad.

An animal torturer or monkey abuser is not protected by their ignorance. Animal torture is a very deliberate and calculated action, taken against animals behind closed doors for a lot of money. If you spend your time mutilating screaming terrified animals in a relatively calm fashion and say that you didn't know that what you were doing was wrong, then there is a serious mental problem that should be dealt with. If you are not prepared to line the mother-fuckers up against a wall and shoot them all down yourself, I understand. I haven't done it either.

There are simply so many of them, that you may run out of bullets. Are there enough bullets to murder every murderer on earth? If you are not convinced that sometimes the death of a monkey torturer is a good thing, then simply swap the monkeys in the laboratory for retarded or homeless kids, then perhaps your own dog or cat and finally your own children. The vivisectors would if they could. They're running out of raw materials.

It's Red Nose Day, again, and here come all the dumb Australian television celebrities. And the vivisectors complain that all they get are baboons and beagles! They need donations. It's okay to oblige. So let's assist our fellow psychopaths in their unending brutality upon life on earth by doing nothing to stop them. A change of heart is as good as a holiday.

    

This website is part of my personal testimony that has been guided by The Holy Spirit and written in Jesus' name.

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