An Irrational Fear of Milking


The dairy industry is no longer located near the stockyards and packing houses, as
it was in times of more limited bovine longevity. This creates a hardship for the farmers,
who must keep everything alive or cut it into pieces themselves.
Naturally, the farmers are anxious to make a living. These men must plant seeds,
cut hay, haul feed, pump water, build sheds, scratch themselves and judge literary
contests in a timely manner.
The shading on some maps shows the most unimportant dairy regions in our
country. In these areas, there is not enough bovine inspiration. So the farmers, who
have learned by bitter experience to cater to what’s known as “popular consumption,”
raise commercial writers instead. In England, the very same species has been taught to
“articulate” punk culture in light of its many milky disturbances.
Some of these “writers,” known in many areas as “innocents,” are not consumed by
the farmers directly but sold as “seekers,” who have been raised organically and must
root for their sustenance. A smart farmer knows that such seekers are not very good to
eat and must be given cod-liver oil and ambiguous pronoun references to survive. He will
protect them from the hot sun and not let them run about too much. When they become
annoying enough, the farmer will sell them. He is sorry to see them go because when they
remain on his farm, they help to keep the soil rich by questioning it with adjectives.
We might think that it would be much easier for the farmer to raise beef, but do
you know how much land is needed to raise beef? Writers, on the other hand, are easily
taught to find suffering honorable and can be kept in stalls with little more than a pencil.
So the next time you’re roasting an ox, consider how much more productive you
could be if you were to take advantage of the opportunities innocents offer to provide
alternatives to our reliance on less self-engaged ruminants. Perhaps you have heard about
the colonies set aside by the modern dairy industry where high-profile innocents are
carefully groomed, photographed wearing milk mustaches, and trained to be critics.
Here the courageous farmers experiment, training the innocents to milk themselves. They
expect soon to produce them as a form of self-slaughtering protein.

Rich Ives is the author of Tunneling to the Moon: A Psychological Gardener’s Book of Days currently being published in serial @ Silenced Press everyday in 2014 and forthcoming in paperback. Begin from the beginning, catch up, read daily. Just refer to the Burrow Guide.