Now I have overheard a lot of you humans talking quite a bit about primate research recently. Especially my human, Chancellor Biddy Martin. She paces around the house into the deepest hours of the night, going on about ""primates"" this and ""I hate those goddamn idiot activists"" that. It has reached a point where I believe that the obvious avenues for debate have been exhausted, and new voices must be sought out.
I feel I can be one of those voices, especially considering none of you have the kind of perspective that I have on this issue: the perspective of a fellow member of the subjugated animal kingdom. Bark bark.
Before you biology majors go ahead and shout, ""Hey, wait Oscar, you're not even a primate! You're a domesticated miniature poodle, Latin name canis lupus!"" First of all, the domesticated dog is canis lupus familiaris, you ignorant cretin. And second, the fact that I don't have opposable thumbs or good stereoscopic vision shouldn't matter, what matters here is I can look at this issue from the viewpoint of a fellow fur-covered creature who can identify with being exploited by the often insensitive human race. Arf arf.
You see, I know what it is like to live in a cage. Many of the early days of my childhood were spent in the dreadfully inhumane conditions of my kennel, where I spent all of my days in an enclosed wire box with nothing but a pittance of stale water and bits of dry food rations.
Thankfully I was eventually allowed out of that claustrophobic environment, but even now I am still restrained to house arrest, only allowed to leave with the supervision of Biddy or one of her servants. I am lucky if they even allow me to leave the home's walls simply to urinate in the yard; they would not even dare to give me the simple luxury of using the bathroom. Usually Biddy just points outside and tells me to remove myself from the area, making some sort of reference to fornicating with my mother.
And to think, research primates at UW-Madison experience this sort of malicious treatment en masse in our laboratories. What abhorrent incubus visits Biddy as she slumbers knowing the pain research primates go through? Woof.
Besides the cruel treatment my fellow beasts go through, the entire idea of experimenting on primates is unethical because of issues of consent. Primates, unlike humans who can willingly agree to participate in scientific experiments, do not have the ability to sign contractual agreements.
True, some chimpanzees and orangutans have learned rudimentary sign language, but they do not possess the capacity to understand the risks of the experiment or the ordeals they will be exposed to. Certainly none of them know that Biddy may dress them up as Russian soldiers and stage bloody chimpanzee decapitation-filled re-enactments of Operation Barbarossa.
They do, however, have the ability to feel pain and anguish just like you or me. Yap yap yap bark bark yap.
I have tried discussing this with Biddy numerous times, but I have not been able to convince her of just how much of an injustice primate research is. When I bring up the topic the conversation always devolves into Biddy tempestuously screaming that primate research protesters can fellate her genitalia (though she uses harsher language).
She then transforms into a giant muscular beast resembling the Incredible Hulk that unleashes a reign of terror across campus. But that reaction is to be expected, as I have not even been able to improve my own feeble conditions where I am treated as nothing more than a common house pet. Snarl. Growl.
But I implore you all to look at this issue in a new light. Think of the animals, think of how they feel and take your newfound empathy and—wait, do I smell bacon? BACON! BACON BACON BACON BACON!
Oscar Martin is a GOOD BOY, SUCH A GOOD BOY. Yes you are, yes you are! Please send all responsess to opinion@dailycardinal.com.
