You mess with the bull, you get the salchicha
Sometime in late August I posted a short piece called “The Revolution Has Begun!” about the bull that jumped into the bleachers and gored a number of spectators (no deaths, except the bull). The piece was nasty and vindictive and added nothing useful to the debate, so I erased it and good riddance.
But the idea of a bull revolution has not been erased… on the contrary, it would seem to be getting trendy, this what I’m calling the Aurochs Arising. The first death by bull in Spain this year happened in early July, then in August the jumping bull did its thing (again, no deaths but massive media impact). Now it’s September, and the ball is gaining momentum: 4 deaths by bull, the last one a few days ago. These are NOT normal statistics.
Keep in mind these are not bullfighters getting gored to death in the plaza, but town folk celebrating their local fiestas by running down the streets in front of bulls. Despite being a risky proposition, getting gored to death is a rare ocurrence, usually Americans sacrificing themselves to Hemingway’s ghost at the sanfermines. The average Spaniard, after all, is genetically predisposed to elude bull horns from back when wild aurochs roamed the plains of Spain chasing after the Iberian cromagnon man.
Then again, maybe bull breeders have something to say in all this. These folk have spent generations honing the valued aurochs trait that makes bulls fearless and frisky, like back in the days when they would take on sabre-tooth wolves just to keep their horns sharp. Maybe they have inadvertently created a new generation of killer aurochs: smarter, badder and meaner, ready to get prehistoric on any sorry ass that doesn’t GET THE F*CK OUT OF THE WAY FAST!
Crazy, you say? Take another look at the leaping bull incident and note how it aims straight to the point of most foothold, takes a first small jump and then pushes off to clear the distance to the stands.
Brute chance? Maybe. Intelligent calculation? Who’s to say? As David Spates says in the clip below “it’s like someone said something about its momma”.
More like someone ate its momma. Karma is, as always, tickled pink by symmetry.
Full disclosure: I was of bovine persuasion in a previous incarnation.