BEEF

I hate tattoos. I feel the need to finish my sleeve just to be a completest and to be more graphically pleasing. But there is no meaning to my tattoos. No special reason other than I liked the idea at the moment. There are no regrets, at all. I have inserted meaning into my pieces. My right arm speaks to consumption. The image is of a candy monster boiling children to make more candy. Asking the question whether you would continue to buy candy if you knew the consequences. I like that. Never have I been comfortable being a consumer. I dont eat meat because I dont need to. I have always liked to think about where things come from. Machines, clothes, food, expressions. “Hair of the dog” comes from the literal act of feeding a rabid dog its own hair. At the time people thought it was a positive treatment. Most of America's meat is processed in and around Colorado. The companies actively recruit Mexicans and smuggle them in. They live in squalor around the plant and pay them next to nothing. They fire the ones that get injured or limbs cut off and have them deported. The people, not the limbs. Instead of taking the time and money to properly train people they simply shuffle through poor undereducated souls that do what they need to get by. I dont want any part of that so I stopped. I say to those idiots that think that illegal immigrants should go back to where they came from to stop eating meat. You are the ones giving them a job. You are paying them to be here. Heh, I just made a lot of meaning around my tattoo.