The Evolution of Hunting
It's hunting season in North America--otherwise known as Darwin Awards sweeps week.
Eighteen years ago on my first hunting trip with my father, my own life almost became a cautionary tale as well.
Part of what attracts people to hunting is its ritualistic aspect. Orange camo uniforms, clapboard hunting shacks, and jokes told only in the company of men are the stuff of a modern-day rite of passage. Trooping through the woods to your post, you feel as though you're part of the predator-prey cycle; part of the great circle. As I sat on an overturned five gallon bucket munching snickers minis in my moonboots, I thought of my father as a venerable Ojibiway chief and myself as a young brave learning the time-honored traditions of his people. My father farted. "Stepped on a duck", he chuckled. The reverie was broken.
It was a beautiful fall day. The rosy fingers of dawn were climbing through the trees as a dusting of snow fell on the carpet of autumn leaves below. Soon, faltering footsteps could be heard on the ridge a hundred yards away. Dad's eyes opened wide, and he pointed his rifle in the direction of the sound. Two does sauntered out of the underbrush, muzzling the ground and scattering the leaves with their hooves. The deer moved closer, breaking into a gallop. Dad motioned for me to stand and take the first shot. When they were about 25 yards away, one of them stopped, reared back on its haunches, and jumped high up into the air. The other mimicked its companion. They were frollicking like puppies in the crisp fall air. This realization unnerved me, but I could see the urgency on my father's face. I pointed the rifle several feet above the deer and pulled the trigger.
The kickback from the rifle sent me hurtling backwards. The rickety support bar of the deerstand gave way, and I plummeted to the ground nine feet below, landing squarely on my shoulderblades.
I haven't held a rifle since, but I still respect the notion of hunting. There's an honesty to it. You're forced to confront the fact that meat doesn't come heremetically sealed on a styrofoam tray.
Six years ago, NATO began a 30 day "precision bombing" campaign of the former Yugoslavia in an attempt to halt ethnic cleansing. In the course of the 30 day bombing campaign, not one single NATO bomber lost his life. For the first time in human history, War was completely antiseptic for troops on one side of the conflict.
Thanks to the ingenuity of a Texas businessman, hunting can also now be a risk-free venture. With a click of a mouse, hunters can now hunt on the internet. Even the most negligent, drunken buffoon of a hunter has absolutely no chance of shooting off his foot or falling out of a treestand. Just as the bombing of Sarajevo was the evolution of warfare, internet marksmanship is the evolution of hunting. Without a doubt, the world will be a much, much better place as a result.
HOUSTON, Texas (Reuters) -- Hunters soon may be able to sit at their computers and blast away at animals on a Texas ranch via the Internet, a prospect that has state wildlife officials up in arms.
The Web site already offers target practice with a .22 caliber rifle and could soon let hunters shoot at deer, antelope and wild pigs, site creator John Underwood said on Tuesday.
Texas officials are not quite sure what to make of Underwood's Web site, but may tweak existing laws to make sure Internet hunting does not get out of hand.
Read The Full Article
Eighteen years ago on my first hunting trip with my father, my own life almost became a cautionary tale as well.
Part of what attracts people to hunting is its ritualistic aspect. Orange camo uniforms, clapboard hunting shacks, and jokes told only in the company of men are the stuff of a modern-day rite of passage. Trooping through the woods to your post, you feel as though you're part of the predator-prey cycle; part of the great circle. As I sat on an overturned five gallon bucket munching snickers minis in my moonboots, I thought of my father as a venerable Ojibiway chief and myself as a young brave learning the time-honored traditions of his people. My father farted. "Stepped on a duck", he chuckled. The reverie was broken.
It was a beautiful fall day. The rosy fingers of dawn were climbing through the trees as a dusting of snow fell on the carpet of autumn leaves below. Soon, faltering footsteps could be heard on the ridge a hundred yards away. Dad's eyes opened wide, and he pointed his rifle in the direction of the sound. Two does sauntered out of the underbrush, muzzling the ground and scattering the leaves with their hooves. The deer moved closer, breaking into a gallop. Dad motioned for me to stand and take the first shot. When they were about 25 yards away, one of them stopped, reared back on its haunches, and jumped high up into the air. The other mimicked its companion. They were frollicking like puppies in the crisp fall air. This realization unnerved me, but I could see the urgency on my father's face. I pointed the rifle several feet above the deer and pulled the trigger.
The kickback from the rifle sent me hurtling backwards. The rickety support bar of the deerstand gave way, and I plummeted to the ground nine feet below, landing squarely on my shoulderblades.
I haven't held a rifle since, but I still respect the notion of hunting. There's an honesty to it. You're forced to confront the fact that meat doesn't come heremetically sealed on a styrofoam tray.
Six years ago, NATO began a 30 day "precision bombing" campaign of the former Yugoslavia in an attempt to halt ethnic cleansing. In the course of the 30 day bombing campaign, not one single NATO bomber lost his life. For the first time in human history, War was completely antiseptic for troops on one side of the conflict.
Thanks to the ingenuity of a Texas businessman, hunting can also now be a risk-free venture. With a click of a mouse, hunters can now hunt on the internet. Even the most negligent, drunken buffoon of a hunter has absolutely no chance of shooting off his foot or falling out of a treestand. Just as the bombing of Sarajevo was the evolution of warfare, internet marksmanship is the evolution of hunting. Without a doubt, the world will be a much, much better place as a result.
HOUSTON, Texas (Reuters) -- Hunters soon may be able to sit at their computers and blast away at animals on a Texas ranch via the Internet, a prospect that has state wildlife officials up in arms.
The Web site already offers target practice with a .22 caliber rifle and could soon let hunters shoot at deer, antelope and wild pigs, site creator John Underwood said on Tuesday.
Texas officials are not quite sure what to make of Underwood's Web site, but may tweak existing laws to make sure Internet hunting does not get out of hand.
Read The Full Article
