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I adored John Lennon as a child. I grew up listening to the Beatles, and to John Lennon’s work. I recently remembered that old John Lennon song, “Woman is the Nigger of the World”. (CLICK THE SONG. CLICK IT. WATCH IT.) When I was a young one, I didn’t understand the meaning of the song, but I had a feeling that John Lennon was a boundary pusher, a speaker of truth, a voice for the oppressed, the marginalized, and the underdog. I loved so much of what he stood for; even as a young child. When he died, I remember mourning the death of such a free thinker, and I felt even then that the world would suffer without his insight. I had the opportunity one day and I planted a tree in his name. I knew somewhere deep within myself, that a loss such as his life was ushering in the era of thoughtlessness, conformity, and an end to empathy; the era of the SELF.


The song brought much criticism from many different camps; media, politicians, special interest groups, religious groups, and celebrities; even radio stations wouldn’t play the song. It was too dangerous to discuss. It hit too close to home; made people feel uncomfortable by reminding them of their shady history, reminding them of the inequality that was still very pervasive at that time. It was safer not to listen to the word. The word was offensive. Heaven forbid a sound that a mouth created which had long been buried, that had been used to denigrate people for so long, could now cause such a stirring within the souls of man; and woman.  How dare someone take a pejorative word and try to reassign a new definition? Would this mean that people would be forced to think about their own biases? Their own prejudices? Would people be confronted with their deep seated hatred every single day while they happily whistled along to their favorite song?

In the  interview, John Lennon explains how he and Yoko came up with the song. In this video clip, he reads from a paper that was written by the then chairmen of the Black Caucus, D Ca. Ron Dellums, who wrote the following definition of the word nigger, reframing it in a way that fit with the times, which made it easier for people to understand. Ron Dellums said those many years ago, “If you define niggers as someone whose lifestyle is defined by others, whose opportunities are defined by others, whose role in society is defined by others, then good news! you don’t have to be black to be a nigger in this society……”

I would like to add an addendum to his statement and say that the word, as defined by Ron Dellums decades ago is now applicable to non human animals; not to mention that humans are still enslaving other humans to this very day. The sheer numbers however are the reason why I will not be writing this essay about humans. Rather, I would like to focus on the more than 30 million non human animals who are massacred every single day unnecessarily for food and millions more who suffer in cages, behind closed doors; be it in a massive building in an industrial park, to a backyard of a trailer park, all at the hands of the human animal.

Non human animals are OUR slaves; our niggers in the 20th and 21st centuries. If John Lennon were alive today, I postulate that he would be vegan, and not only vegan, but would quite possibly lead the movement of anti-slavery for the rest of the creatures on the planet. Oh one can dream………….

Who ya nigga? These yo niggas.

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I AM YOUR SLAVE. I AM YOUR NIGGER

You drink MY milk. You take MY babies from me. YOU force me to breed. You force me to produce milk for my human slave owner until I am spent, then you drag your nigga off to become your slab of shit and corpse to put between two slices of white bread.   Our masters deprive my baby cow of iron and sunlight and keep him in a little box no bigger than my baby so when they slice him up his muscle will be tender and soft; and his flesh just the right color of white or rosé for my slave owner. My massa kills me, the milk givin’ nigga, when I have given all the milk I can. Some of my nigga brethren aren’t bred to be eaten, but because certain ones of us have really soft skin, like ma niggas in Italy or even India where we cow niggas are supposed to be sacred. We are bred ONLY for our skin that our massa’s rip off us and wear on their delicate feet and on their torsos to keep warm. Then they sell our parts for food after. So when all the masters think that it’s alright to buy my skin, or what the massa calls “leather” or “suede”, because they say it’s a byproduct, they are NOT 100% correct. Many of us cow niggers are raised only for our skin. I’m your nigger.

WE are your niggers. You call “pets”. We are your trash. We are your play “things”. You have bred us for so long, and still do; despite that there are at least 17 thousand a day killed in shelters all around the U.S. alone. We are even often sold to rendering plants to make your soaps, cosmetics and body and hair products, or we niggers are often sold to research laboratories to become the tools with which scientists claim they learn so much about the oppressor’s body by studying his slave; his nigger, but they know they can never cure any of our massa’s diseases by using us niggas, as our bodies work differnetly than our slave owners’.

We are yo niggas. We foxes are human slaves. We are your niggers. We are hunted for fun in Britain, we live in filthy cages all over Asia, and especially China. We niggers are used for or skin; our luxurious fur that belongs on our bodies; skinned ALIVE for shoes, jackets, coats, and human vanity; wrapped around our masters; our oppressors, as a status symbol.

I am your nigger. I am a “bile” bear nigga in China, otherwise known as a moon bear. My masters keep me in a cage, with tubes stuck in me, and they steal my bile from my gall bladder, from this nigga’s body to enhance our massa’s human virility whilst stealing my life juices. I am nothing but a nigger, I am kept alive in pure agony, and this bear nigga lives in fear.

Humans make me their slaves; a nigger for their entertainment. Our masters are companies like Feld Entertainment, Shriner circus and Ringling Bros. circuses. Some of our masters live in countries in Asia and get paid a lot of money from the companies this nigga just mentioned because they rip us away from our home and family whom we’ll never forget, and they beat me us niggas into submission to perform ridiculous acts that an elephant would NEVER do in the wild so our master’s can spend an hour laughing with a box of popcorn or cotton candy in their hands. I’m a slave, a fucking nigga, I travel around in a truck on the highway with my fellow niggas; the lions, tigers, camels, zebras and other niggas stolen from the wild, or they and I travel in railway cars barely bigger than myself, going from place to place, standing on our heads, jumping through hoops in air conditioned, and extremely loud buildings called coliseums or event centers, where the noise is unbearable, and where I wish I were dead. I live in constant fear of being beaten or restrained. I’m just a lowly fuckin’ nigga, workin’ for the man.


I’m a nigger. My masters love to feed me at the lake, they claim to love birds, but do not realize that I am their slave behind the scenes, where I am just another nigger, getting my feathers plucked until I bleed in pain for coats, blankets, jackets, hair accessories, and more. MY slave owner does this to me even when I cry in pain; again and again until I’m eventually killed for food. Meanwhile, my other feathered friend niggas be gettin’ their feathers plucked and are killed and tossed in the garbage so the master can have earrings made of the nigga’s feathers, or toys for their domesticated cats, or my other small nigga feathered friends be gettin’ their feathers used for hats or gloves or shoes that the massa wears for vanity, but not out of any need.

I am your nigger; and I have been enslaved for as long as I can remember. For years my masters have ridden me into the ground, and once used up, they show me no respect, but then kill or sell me to be killed for people in other countries who have a taste for my horse meat. I’m a slave. Here I fell and died from exhaustion. I am raced until I can no longer win, and then I am sent off to do more laborious jobs, or become meat, and the movie industry loves to use me as well, where in HBO’s latest filming of their show “Luck”, three of my fellow horse niggas were killed to entertain their slave owner; the human. Us female horse NIGGAS are used to make estrogen for human women to take to lessen their menopause symptoms. We stand in stalls our entire lives while our massas callect our urine for the drug PREMARIN. Our babies, our nigga foals get sent to auctions for slaughter. Watch the Dateline story about Premarin

We are your niggers; your human slaves to do with what you will; to throw chemicals into our eyes, to rub chemicals into our skin, to blow smoke in our faces, to cut into our body to learn how something works inside us, to use us, abuse us and throw us away when no longer of use in your cosmetic testing, and bogus research. Testing on non human animal niggas for the health and well being of the massa is fraudulent science, and only exists in the 21st century because we niggas are easy to exploit, and we make many of our slave owners filthy stinkin’ rich.

We are your little lamb niggas. We are not only your fuckin’ niggas whom our masters breed and raise so you can eat our body parts, but especially our masters in New Zealand and Australia send us niggers off to be eaten in other countries; especially the Middle East. We niggers who are exported alive, suffer greatly, but then, we are only niggers; human slaves, after all. One of the principle reasons we niggers are killed is not for you to eat, but so that our skin can be ripped off and worn on mostly the young female masters’ feet. All that fluffy white stuff our massa’s see on their UGGS or UGLY ass muthafuckin shoes belongs on the body of the sheep nigga, and not on the masters’ feet. That white wool is attached to our skin. We are sheep/lambs. We are your fuckin’ nigga’s. Your slaves to use and abuse as you see fit.

We are your niggers. We are your slaves whose skin you wear around your collars of your coats, your wrists around your gloves, your insides and outsides of your boots, your jackets and coats. Our masters breed us especially for our fur; especially in China, Korea, and Asia in general, because our masters in other countries get their clothes made cheaply from these Asian countries. You don’t even know that we niggers are suffering; working for you; to end up in a pile of corpses; meaningless lives. All we know is fear. Maybe once in a while they eat us too.

WE are your niggers. We are your pig slaves that you treat like filth. You anthropomorphize us, you collect figurines of us because you love us nigger pigs so much, and then you MASSACRE us for your taste buds, because you love bacon, you love ham, and you love using our bones and fat to flavour your soups. We are slaves of man, our masters, and we live in absolute fear of being beaten, bludgeoned and murdered.

We are your slaves and your niggers. You abuse your power of us; humiliate us and kill us. We neither could nor would do such a thing, as our minds are pure of these evil desires to denigrate others. Only the oppressor thinks up twisted games like this for his niggers. Only our human masters could do such things to those they see as only their niggers.

WE are your niggers. We are enslaved by you. We give you eggs to eat that are grown in the filthiest of conditions. We die and excrete waste on top of one another in these cages. We niggers cannot even turn our bodies around. Our babies are ripped from us and the males are killed as they are useless. We are your captives, the ends of our beaks are cut off and we live in total fear. We are the oppressed.

WE are your niggers. We are bred to fight for our master to make him money. Our master shows us no love, deprives us of food and water to make us mean, beats us, electrocutes us, pulls out the females’ teeth so we cannot defend ourselves when we are bred, our master makes us live in fear and excruciating pain. When we are of no use, our master dumps us to die, or we end up at a shelter where our chances of adoption are slim since master tried his hardest to make us mean. Now we are niggers of no worth; killed by the thousands daily just in the U.S. alone; branded un-adoptable due to what our masters have done to us.

We of the sea are your niggers. The oppressors aren’t happy enough destroying the land creatures, so you must try to enslave me and my kind as well, and make yourself our master, and us your niggers. Our beautiful fins make the slave owner rich. Once our fins are cut off while we are alive, we niggers are of no more use to our master, and we are dumped back into the water to drown. If you want to learn about how we niggas of the ocean get treated, WATCH the famous chef Gordon Ramsay in this three part film called Shark Bait.

HAD ENOUGH OF THE N WORD? ME TOO. I AM SICK TO DEATH OF THE EXISTENCE OF ANY SLAVE OR ANY OPPRESSED INDIVIDUAL; HUMAN OR NON. THE TIME TO END THE SLAVERY OF ALL BEINGS IS NOW. TURN A BLIND EYE NO MORE.

Why vegan? For the animals. For the planet. For the health of us all.Before it’s too late.

http://vegstarterpack.com