And tradition doesn't make a practice sancrosanct. Slavery was a centuries-old tradition and part of the United States' national identity and history. But I doubt you have any problem condemning slavery wherever and whenever it's practiced.

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I fully expected that response. You can't compare the US to Spain or any other European nation, where their traditions are their identity. Slavery was not a tradition but a practice by a particular class which had no cultural merit. Bullfighting, much as it is presently reviled, reveals much about the Spanish character, taste, values.

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Thank you, Bookish. So why won't you marry me?

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A bullfight slowly bleeds an animal to death. I'm not against bullfights, but don't be fooled as to what they are. They are savage and they are mean. But that's why you watch them. To pretend that savagery and danger and violence aren't part of our makeup is just stupid. And they're usually pretty goddamn fun to watch.

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I've seen a bullfight at the Madrid Plaza de Toros, and it was repulsive. The bulls were put through a series of painful tortures, and in at least one case the matador failed 5 times to put the thing out of its misery.

I understand why bullfights still exist. They're blood sport; they appeal to something primal in the reptilian core of the human brain. But humans are also capable of evolving cultural norms to govern our primitive passions. It's about time we added bullfighting and industrial animal farming to the list of unjustifiable cruelties.

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Blood sport, yes. Also a safety valve for the expression of anger and fear.

People want psychic drama and bullfighting is a kind of controlled chaos. Again, I am not invested in it, I do not follow it, but it's not going away anytime soon.

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I can show you one glaring exception, right before your glazed eyes.

A trained matador does a clean job that is on par with a slaughterhouse kill, perhaps even more merciful. If a matador bungles the kill, he is booed and loses cred, lessening his chance of getting back in the ring. After the bull is killed, it feeds the poor, much as it would if it were being cut into steak for the rich.

A full paragraph of utter nonsense. I have seen the great El Cordobes jamming at the neck of a poor beast with a descabello over and over in a disgusting ritual. I have seen Mariono Ramios trying to disguise the effort to cause the bull to fall by running his sword between its ribs with the estoque hidden in the folds of his muleta while the cuadrillo rustled around the dying creature. I have rarely, rarely observed a one-stroke kill, and my brother and our pal who traveled extensively in Mexico would say the same.

A matador who kills with one stroke is in line for the grisly awards which are most uplifting, one or both ears, then the tail, then a hoof, sawed off for a delighted mob right in front of them by the cuadrilla. Esto will report "ELOY CORTA OREJAS EN MONEUMENTAL! I would be very much in support of any torero not going back in the ring if he hits bone with the sword, and if the above paragraph were true, then none of them would.

The "meat for the poor" began with a picture book by that weird Barnaby Conrad guy. There is no other evidence I'm aware of that the bull ring empresarios have any objection to selling the meat for the highest price.

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If this wasn't entertaining enough, there were always the burnings of humans, or the drawing and quarterings of St Paul's courtyard. Most of us have sort of risen above such ceremonies, however.

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I have never seen either in any plaza in Mexico, but once I read about such a scene in Spain. It was in Michener's Iberia, and a crowd upset at the proceedings was at near riot stage, when the policia who line the upper tendidas marched solemnly down the aisles to the front row and spun around at port arms to face the mob.

Silence was sudden. There was your fear. No one in Franco's Spain had any doubt what would've been the penalty of continuing the expression of anger.

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Whispering. It was Napolean, after all.

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Dead for you, kiddo.

We're having drinks together this evening.

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The last sentence is a riff on Marlowe's Jew of Malta.

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However, I do agree that these portestors should all be vegan, otherwise it's just hypocritical.

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Compare the afción of this travesty to one who drinks milk, thus is no vegan, and see if you can come up with a distinction.

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I'm glad there are people out there who treat problems realistically, and don't blow them out of proportion with meaningless, scorching hyperbole and "facts" they can't possibly support.

I'm glad there are those people. It's just too bad none of them seem to have made their way to Gawker.

Now if you'll excuse me I have to go drink eight glasses of milk just to spite you.

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I am reminded of the Repugnants last line of defense against a regime which tortured humans to death for no purpose whatsoever: "Well, Pelosi knew about it ... maybe ..."

Equivalency, I think it's called. It's the barroom drunk who whines to the cops, what about them other guys?

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There's a name for that White Raven paradox, I think, but the Manichean muddle you were alluding to is what I meant as well.

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Ahhh... thanx you!

(And I'd like to order a Paradox, muddled with mint please. ;-)

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"Is this mint?"

And the barkeep say,

"Well, it's perhaps a bit more than intended."

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