Conversions

I feel that an update on my "conversions" is in order. Conversions to what, you may ask? Why, conversions to the wonderful way of thought of daemianism.

I've got... one, two... five, maybe six conversions (one of them an indirect one). My circle of friends now includes and otter soul, a semisettled (?) axolotl soul, a pink dolphin soul, and a couple of I'venoideahelp! souls. Ah, my herd is growing.

I'm also firmly cemented into my life as an elk. I can hardly remember how I used to psychoanalyse myself. Now, my life is one big elk analogy.

And Sef never changes, anymore. It just feels odd. I was a bit afraid that we'd want to change too much, and might not feel settled. A strange fear, I know, and completely groundless. We're very happy.

The weekend before last we went out to see the closest elk to us. We saw 40 or so, but twice as many rednecks drooling for hunting season. I was wondering why the bulls looked so small until i realised that they're shot down every year but a bunch of hicks.

I do apologize to any elk hunters out there, but I don't have much sympathy for you. And when I see pictures of Sarah Palin with her little toddler dancing around a bloodied caribou in the snow, I'm positively sickened. Our world can be such a strange place. It's one thing to hunt to live, but when there's cheap meat and (even better) fake meat to be had by any middle class family, why should we go blow the brains out of some wild animals? Sport? I wouldn't call that sporting in a million years.

Well, here I go on my vegetarian tirade. I was raised by a pack of hippie liberals, so you'll have to excuse me.