Frank’s Sporadic Blog, With Fries

As some of you may suspect by now, I’m not exactly a proponent of the assertion that ‘every human life is precious.’

In theory, that sounds good.  But get out there and actually meet some of these humans.  Hint: Going out there armed is probably a good idea. 

It’s a lamentable but undeniable fact that some people simply aren’t worth the cost of the bullet they so obviously deserve.

And while no single group can claim a lock on being Most Worthless, the dog-fighters come very close.

An example?  Sure.  Click here  for a gut-wrenching story about a group of wonderful individuals who were running a dog-fighting operation out of a Chicago day-care center.

That’s right.  Out of a day-care center.  I won’t even bother to comment on just how stupid the parents who used this day-care would need to be to not notice that, by the way, animals are being tortured and slaughtered here daily.  No, it’s the dog-fighters I’d like to talk about.

They used puppies as bait animals. 

See, that’s all I really need to know about them.  Anyone who can toss a helpless puppy into a ring so it can be torn apart by maddened fight dogs just isn’t worth keeping around, except as fertilizer. 

I don’t care what reasons they give.  I don’t care what motivated them.  I don’t care that their father never hugged them, that they grew up impoverished, that they need the money.

I don’t believe people like that can be fixed.  I don’t believe they’re even worth the effort.

Michael Vick should still be in prison.  He certainly shouldn’t be prancing around grabbing NFL cash with both hands.  He can pretend he’s sorry all he wants, but he’s just another heartless thug who’s a few genes short of humanity. 

Dog fighting is everywhere.  Even around here.  The cops are spread too thin, and the penalties for getting caught are so slight, that it seldom gets any attention from law enforcement.  

What I’d like to see in this case is some Divine intervention.  I think it would be hilarious if, at the next dog-fight, a smallish meteor or intense lightning storm was directed at everyone in attendance.  Legs in trees, severed heads all over the ground — now that would make for some amusing morning reading.

That’s my wish for you today, all you dog-fight enthusiasts.  Die.  Die messily, die badly, but please, die quickly.