I was foraging for an old ball of string in the attic, when I found this old diary of a human “shepherd” named Mike. A shepherd, by the way, was a type of human slave-master for another species – in this case, sheep. This kind of human slave-master – a shepherd – would control dozens or even hundreds of another mammal species in order to shave off their hair or kill them and eat their muscle tissue.
Mike was the master of fourteen sheep, mostly females, and only one of these animal slaves was black. Every day, Mike would take the sheep out of their confinement pen, and lead them to an open field. They were always thrilled to get out and needed no convincing or prodding to leave confinement.
Once he was far away from the crowds at the historic park, Mike would slip his earbuds on and take his prisoners to some faraway patch of green grass. Once there, it was time to lay on the grass listening to Adam and the Ants, while the sheep peacefully enjoyed the saladosphere that human hero Mike had found for them.
To get them back to their confinement compound at the end of the day was much more difficult. It’s like they never wanted to return to their prison. So Mike would target the oldest female, Medea, for coaxing.
Medea was the mother of more than half of the other sheep, and the grandmother of a few of the others, so she was the one that most of the other sheep listened to and respected. Most of them had been fed directly by Medea when they were lambs so she was the go-to sheep to manipulate if you wanted to influence all the other sheep.
When it was time to get the sheep back into confinement, Mike would simply push Medea’s head into a bucket of delicious grain and dried fruits, and she would then baaah loudly. “Baa-aaah!”
What this means, in our Modern Feline language, is “Food, this way! Food this way!” Medea could hardly breathe between baa-aahs and mouthfuls of the delicious morcels of oats, dried raisins and parsley.
Of course, her baahing was problematic. What she was really saying was “Food for me this way!” For her and her alone.
But Sheep dialects being what they were back in those days – the baahing wasn’t sophisticated enough to communicate the “for me” part of the exclamation. So while she meant “Delicious food for me this way! Yahoo!,” all the sheep heard was “Delicious food this way, yahoo!”
(Today, of course, Sheep are schooled to differentiate between “for me” and “for us” when they baaah. But this story is from a human diary written a hundred years before human extinction, so it’s Olde Sheep, as opposed to Modern Sheep baaahing.)
Once they got back into their lockdown pens, they would find the same boring feeding boxes full of the same dry, boring hay. They fell for this trick every single time, believing that the words of Medea – in the way that they understood them – were like a family gospel.
This small sheep community lived through the same false hope for delicious food followed by the same disappointing dry hay each and every day. But they all felt that to not respect and follow Medea’s inarticulate baahing was like treason against group solidarity and family ties. No one wanted to be seen as an outsider who didn’t respect “family.” Even if that meant following a flawed understanding of that family member time and time again to the same dead end.
Mike called the specially mixed combination of grains and fruit that he gave Medea each day “Advertising Revenue.”
ceci n'est pas le point de vue de l'élite
(this is not the elite's point of view)