Cecil, We Hardly Knew Ye!

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“Where are the legs with which you run?
Hurroo! hurroo!
Where are thy legs with which you run?
Hurroo! hurroo!
Where are the legs with which you run
When first you went to carry a gun?
Indeed, your dancing days are done!
Och, Johnny, I hardly knew ye!
With drums and guns, and guns and drums,
The enemy nearly slew ye;
My darling dear, you look so queer,
Och, Johnny, I hardly knew ye!

Traditional Irish Folk Ballad

There’s an interesting element to this that is not being discussed, and that is the notion of a tipping point, or cultural shift in the zeitgeist. The demise of the big game hunter, matador, the great white Bwana, or Raj, as the heroically rugged adventurer conqueror. Certainly we grew up reading or watching films where this archetype was lionized — everything from Edgar Rice Burroughs, to Isak Dinesen, to Hemmingway, to John Wayne’s Hatari. And then something remarkable happened, and I don’t think it can be laid at the feet of animal rights activists and conservationists. Something visceral shifted in the collective psyche where these characters morphed into anathemas; literally shrank from heroes to zeroes. To shift into the politics of this, when I hear the feckless whining of those who say we have bigger “game to hunt” than to lament for this poor great beast with a human name, they seem to miss the much larger point: human consciousness is moving on while they themselves are the Luddites of a rejected ideal the rest of us have committed to the dung heap of the past.

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