You have rights. I realize it’s possible that you already knew that, but I think it’s important to state it right up front, for those readers who may happen to be the guy who sent me a rude email message last week telling me I’m a crazy idiot Nazi homophobe Republican idiot (yes, he said idiot twice) for suggesting it’s OK to allow children as young as 14 years old to have access to guns, as long as they are taught proper gun safety procedures first. Of course, that was just one guy’s opinion, and he was wrong.
But seriously, you have rights. Unless you, personally, are a middle-aged white male heterosexual Christian who hunts and fishes and belongs to the NRA. In that case you really don’t have any rights, and pretty much anyone can say pretty much anything about you, and there’s pretty much nothing you can do about it. But everyone else has rights.
Chickens, for example, have rights. I’m not suggesting chickens can vote, at least not yet, but I wouldn’t rule that out in the near future, especially in California. And since we’re on the subject of the Granola State, let me just point out here that I think there’s a very good reason God put the San Andreas Fault where He did, and I can’t imagine why someone with common sense hasn’t yet stuffed a bunch of dynamite down that crack and lit the fuse. I’d do it myself, but I’m a little short on TNT this week.
At one point I thought there might be hope for California, back when Arnold was elected governor there. He seemed pretty sane at first, but the longer he’s been in politics the less impressed I am with him. A few years ago, if you’ll recall, he signed a law against goose abuse. Specifically, the law made it illegal to force-feed geese to create foi gras, which is Farsi for ‘fat liver.’ Personally, that law would not have affected me, even if I lived in California, since I used to be an Emergency Medical Technician, and as such realize that the liver is nothing but a blood filter. It removes the impurities from the blood, and therefore should never, under any circumstances, be consumed, except with plenty of gravy and onions.
So the Governator folded to the space cadets on geese, and then he wimped out on some other important stuff, such as implementation of ammunition serialization and the law that requires the firing pins of all guns sold in California to imprint a code on the primer of the cartridge, as if those things could possibly help police solve crimes, which they can’t. So Arnold is an idiot. And I say that with great respect, plus the knowledge that he lives 1,500 miles away from me.
Now Arnold has drooled on himself again. A couple of years ago California passed a law that Californian eggs have to come from chickens that live in cages large enough so the birds can stand up, lie down, and spread their wings without touching not only the sides of the cage, but any other chickens. Now the Governator has signed another law that applies those rules to any egg sold in the Space Cadet state, no matter where the eggs come from.
Now, I don’t have anything against chickens. I like chickens. Some of my best friends are poultry. And if the fruits, nuts, and flakes in California want to dictate chicken habitat rules to their local chicken ranchers, I really don’t have a problem with that. It raises the price of the eggs, shows the rest of the world how out-of-touch with reality California is, and doesn’t make any real difference to the chickens, but hey, it’s their business. But when they start telling chicken ranchers in other states how to treat their birds, they’re crossing the line.
What amazes me is how myopic the liberal mindset is about life. There are more important things to worry about than chicken comfort. America’s economy is circling the drain, illegal immigrants are being given both ears and the tail while their Keds are still wet, and Lebron just jumped ship. Yet there are people, Americans even, who have nothing better to do than squawk about how much space farm animals are allotted? Makes you wonder how these people manage to dress themselves.
Clearly, California needs a new governor. I have a candidate in mind.
Recently a Coast Guard investigator named Shultz was walking the coast of Key West, Florida, and found a camera that had, it turned out, been lost by a fellow in the Dutch Royal Navy named Brewer while he was scuba diving in Aruba. The camera evidently got attached to a sea turtle for a while; probably the strap got wrapped around a fin or something. Somehow the camera got turned on, and the resulting video has generated millions of hits on You Tube.
That turtle, I submit, is better qualified to run California than Arnold. The problem, of course, will be finding him, but once he turns up California should replace Arnold with him. The turtle might not make better decisions than the Governator, but at least we could probably understand what he says a little better . . .
Kendal Hemphill is an outdoor humor columnist who once had a turtle named Hamburger. Write to him at PO Box 1600, Mason, Tx 76856 or firstname.lastname@example.org