When, I was young – this was the point of many years ago, of course – we spent a lot of time debating fur. On one level, it’s a rather crude political awakening (animal cruelty, for or against?); on the other hand, an initial introduction to positional nonsense and how fun it can be (if you could never afford a mink coat, would you be okay with buying it? a mink coat or not? it has!). Philosophically, the bottom line is whether you’re allowed to buy used fur, since the fox died, most likely in the 1940s. Then someone looked up. how is astrakhan created? and it’s so brutally disgusting that it kills all chat rock and we move on to arguing over pictures.
I hope I will speak for my generation, then, when I say how glad I am to see the controversy rekindled by Jacob Rees-Mogg, along with a similarly familiar story about the sale of foie gras. Ah, the smell of morality-napalm in the morning. It’s like being 14 again. This must be how boomers feel when they scroll through Facebook and find posts about the good old days, when men could be men, and women understood that when a stranger squeezes their ass means is that in a nice way. Thrilling rage and exhilarating cynicism; these, plus possible snakebites and black skin, are the scents of lost youth.
The British government has pledged to ban the import of furs and foie gras, part of its push to make the UK the least cruel country in the world. This is considered an element of our sweet sovereignty, the happiness of being liberated from the EU. Of course, we reserve the right to ban these products at any time, but don’t get bogged down in the real stuff. We wasted the last five years doing that. And now the government is thinking of abandoning the pledge after objections from the cabinet.
The next five years will go something like this: every day there will be a technical hitch or a failed promise. Perhaps the promise was made without paying attention to the techniques behind it, or maybe its implementation was never planned in the first place. It can be a big promise, such as frictionless trade and the promotion of prosperity, or it can be a vague word, such as “your oranges will be exactly the same” maybe)”, or “GM food has nothing to worry about with your pretty head around.” Sooner or later it will derail, and then Rees-Moggs and Trevelyans and Trusses of this world have two choices. They can hope that we all get bored with the details and wander. Deep down, they know that won’t happen. Even if the part We’ve grown bored, there will always be one disgruntled person left, look up Imazalil side effectsor delve into why the EU bans ractopamine from pigs.
Luckily, there’s an alternative: drag everything from the crumbling food and beverage export industry to the created market demand for ferrets, into a culture war, bringing Generation X’s awakening army against boomers has been radicalized by the Daily Express. All the ministers asked then was to sit back and watch the fireworks – hopefully the explosions would be much more lively and dangerous, now that we have no EU and all safety their boring as well. It’s very predictable and very basic. The problem for all of us in the waking army is to stay awake.
