Clau's Jours

There was an animal rights demonstration on the Herengracht today, a long procession of people carrying protest signs with pictures of farm animals and, something not strange for this cosmopolitan town, many of the participantes were shouting slogans in English. I have been deeply humbled by a vegan in the past week - who with irrepressible ethical logic made her case for veganism, and for which I have no philosophical counter argument that wouldn't also offer a rationale for further atrocities. I do my best to live an ethical life, an environmentally-conscious effort spurred by having lived in the countryside for a number of years - suspicious of all extremism, I try to find a balance between my welfare and that of others and other species - but one thing I have no philosophical justification for is the keeping of pets. And, yet, there they were, the animal rights activists with dogs on leashes shouting "Animals are our friends". Surely well intentioned, but, inevitably, when considered for an instant of detached, cold, rational logic, so ironic.

The funeral of a friend's father provides the catharsis for an intermittent, protracted, failed mourning of my own. His: lucidly chose the moment of departure; the sparing of the inevitable upcoming suffering for all loved ones and himself. Mine: the needless prolongation of life at all costs; the excruciating, slow motion tragedy of keeping watch over a rotting corpse that wouldn't die.