| Viewpoints |
 |
Save The Red Knot
By Heidi Bramson, Jersey Shorekeepers |
Every spring for thousands of years, massive flocks of red knot birds have performed an incredible annual migration, flying 9,300 miles from the southern tip of Chile all the way to the arctic plains of northern Canada. Along the way, year after year, they stop at New Jersey's beaches, where they fill up on the fatty, nutrient-filled eggs of horseshoe crabs.
This timeless migration, however, is in grave peril, due to widespread horseshoe crab harvesting along the Jersey coast. In just twenty years, the number of red knots has plummeted from 100,000 to only 14,000–and that number will surely dwindle even further if the New Jersey Marine Fisheries Council does not renew a two-year-old moratorium on catching the state's horseshoe crabs.
The council–which is, not coincidentally, filled with fishing-industry representatives–says that a further ban will harm New Jersey's crab harvesters. While this is no doubt true, and regrettable, what would be even more regrettable is the quick extinction of a fascinating avian species–all due to the financial interests of a few shortsighted executives. Horseshoe crab harvesters can find other ways to support themselves, but once the last red knot has fallen, the line will have ended. Never again will the skies from Tierra Del Fuego to the arctic circle be filled with teeming clouds of these remarkable birds.
I urge the members of the New Jersey Marine Fisheries Council to extend the moratorium on horseshoe crabbing. If they do not, and the red knot goes extinct in the next decade, as predicted, they will forever carry the deep shame of having snuffed out an entire living species.
Forever.
|
| |
 |
Kill the Red Knot
By a Horseshoe Crab Egg |
Imagine this: you're laying on a fluffy beach towel, drifting off to sleep on a warm, pleasant seashore. The sun is beating down, the waves are crashing off in the distance, the clouds are high and fluffy. Pretty great, huh? Of course it is. It's always nice to relax on the beach. But guess what, sleepy-head: it stops being nice when, out of nowhere, a crazed monster comes shrieking down from above and devours you, snapping you up in its filthy, violent beak. Just like that, your perfect, lazy afternoon has turned into The Last House on the Left. But who would do such a repulsive thing, you ask? What sort of insane beast would murder an unsuspecting beachgoer in cold blood? Would you really like to know? 'Cause I'll tell you who.
The goddamn red knot, that's who.
You cretins are all upset about this whole red knot thing, but let me tell you something: you'd be whining a different tune if you, like me, happened to be a horseshoe crab egg. Every year, thousands of those Chilean rat-birds stalk onto our beaches and ravage entire generations of future crabs. And as this hideous genocide is going on, you idiots stand off to the side, snapping pictures and cooing, "Ooh, look–they're eating!" You're goddamn right, they're eating! They're eating my brothers, my sisters, my freakin' second cousins! Here's a little game, friend: imagine a gigantic red knot barging into your family reunion and wolfing down your entire clan like a bunch of screaming little grapes. I'll bet if that's what happened every time your relatives had a weenie roast, you shitheads wouldn't be so keen on saving those godforsaken sky-rodents.
So the next time you're writing a letter to the editor, pleading for the "poor lil' red knot" to be saved, just imagine your cute baby sister or beloved older brother being torn to shreds by an insatiable killing machine. Because that's the nightmare my kind has to deal with every single spring. Save the red knot?
Kill the red knot, is what I say.
|
| |
| FORWARD TO A FRIEND |
| |
| |
|
QVC Host Loves Products Off-Air, Too
March 11, 2008 –
Worried coworkers of QVC host John Karmazin are reporting that the 32-year-old Valley Forge resident is keenly enthusiastic about the shopping network's products–even when he is off the air. "I'll see him after work, and he'll say, 'Boy, weren't those Diamonique pendants stunning? Didn't you just love those pull-on Capri stretch pants?" said frequent co-host Greta Dawson, 33. "And the whole time, he has this sort of insane gleam in his eye."
 Another host, Nancy Breen, 28, was also concerned for the four-year QVC veteran's mental health. "We all BS on the air, obviously, but when the camera's off, you forget all about whatever garbage you were just talking about," she admitted, smoking a cigarette outside of the company's West Chester studios. "But not John. We'll go to a break, and he'll still be standing there, kind of staring at the embroidered taffeta gown or NHL throw blanket or whatever. He's frightening." Camera operator Jerry Phillips, 51, agreed. "I never seen so much crap–fake pearl necklaces, fat-chick underwear," he scoffed. "But that Karmazin guy seems to really, really like it. Tell ya the truth, he scares the bejesus outta me."
Karmazin, meanwhile, couldn't understand why his employer's merchandise would not be eagerly discussed and endlessly fawned over. "Why wouldn't I be excited about this Sweet Coconut Milk 2-Piece Bath & Body Set?" he asked, luxuriantly rubbing the lotion into his arms in his dressing room. "And don't even get me started on our Nordic Ware heart-shaped Bundt pan. Oh, I'm just the world's luckiest guy!" When told that his coworkers did not share his passion for QVC's merchandise, he was uncomprehending. "What? That can't be true. Because we're making people across America happy with the most beautiful things in the world–sterling-silver anklets, framed kitten photography, battery-operated candles..." he choked, wiping sudden tears from his eyes. "Oh–oh, QVC!"
|
| |
| FORWARD TO A FRIEND |
| |
| |
|
|
