Have a nice Monday morning. This post wasn't originally intended for my blog. The day before yesterday evening I watched the premiere of the current documentary "Mission Europa" by Robert Marc Lehmann. It's about chickens. How fitting that I am a supporting member of Rettet das Huhn e. V.. They rescue laying hens from the factory farm and give them a new home. I like that sort of thing. It is well known that the conditions in factory farming are catastrophic.
The moving images are moving. Unworthy, bad, commercial cruelty to animals. Take your pick. My attitude to eggs and dairy products changed years ago because of stories like this. If there is ever an egg, then please get it from the farmer. If it has to be something from the supermarket, then it should be free-range. Preferably organic eggs. However, I once read that the free-range area is hardly any larger than that of conventional free-range eggs. And what is meant by "organic" is also a matter of interpretation. My idea of "organic" is certainly different from that of Tönnies, Germany's largest organic slaughterhouse. They position themselves on the side of the legislators, who are quite obviously kept in check by the meat lobby. Organic is not a question of slaughtering and processing, but of animal husbandry. Well then. Oh man Mrs Divers, what the... I'm talking about chickens.
Spoiler: The free-range area of a laying hen in organic eggs is identical to that in free-range eggs.
So let's continue in plain language. The images from the report are terrible. We don't need to talk about it. What irritated me much more was Robert's almost casual comment "free-range".
That must be a mistake, I think. But Robert doesn't make mistakes. Not with something like this. Probably can't save himself from death threats either. Now imagine if he had called a barn a free-range barn. Unthinkable.
Because, as you know, I'm not a believer, what does the know-it-all do? I read the law to find out how big a stable has to be. It's all there in the law. And what I found on the federal government's website unfortunately confirms the pictures you're about to see.
- In conventional laying hen husbandry, a maximum of nine hens per square metre of barn space is permitted in floor or free-range systems in accordance with the Animal Welfare Livestock Farming Ordinance. In addition, market regulation law (Regulation (EC) No. 589/2008) stipulates that each laying hen must have at least four square metres of outdoor space.
- Regulation (EC) No. 589/2008 also stipulates for free-range hens that a minimum of 2.5 square metres of outdoor exercise area must be available per hen. However, access to this must only be granted once every 16 weeks without restriction. Huh?
I didn't make that up. That is applicable German law. So, fquasi. It's an EC regulation, not a law and certainly not national law. Be that as it may, the model company from the reportage complies with these regulations. All the sadder.
And anyway. How schizophrenic is it that we have two different animal welfare laws? One for the "good" animals that we like. And one for the shitty animals that we just want to eat. We prefer not to know anything about the rest of their miserable demise. I find that really weird. State-ordered specialism. But at its finest.
I have put some pictures from the Mission Earth reportage in a gallery on Facebook and commented on them. It took me many hours.
I posted some pictures from the Mission Erde collection on Facebook as a collage, with me as the T-shirt model. Wow! When I wake up, I have over 30 likes, comments and messages in Messenger. I hadn't even had my coffee yet and you guys are already loving it. It's a great piece, this most sustainable T-shirt in the world.
Back to my post with much more poignant pictures, with content, with substance. Genuine, valuable content, as they say these days. That's clear. The 40-second laugh track is easier to digest than seeing where the Sunday breakfast egg comes from, well, I mean the egg you're digesting. But please. Really?
C'mon. A fucking like? And it happens to be from my girlfriend. She's a bit like me, has at least as much of a tit as I do (she's with me, after all) and doesn't give out pity likes, but still. Is it really that uncomfortable to think about the origin of your food?
All right then. I'll just try again. If you find your way to my blog, you'll have more time on your hands. I hope so. Are you sitting comfortably at the breakfast table? Good. Don't do that to yourself. That's the rule. Not the exception. A German model farm that fulfils the requirements for free-range farming. What does that mean for you? 🐓 🐣 🍳
Only you can decide. 🫀 🫶🏻 But I want you to know. 🎓
🍃 Film: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4i1YbzfYwk0
🍃 Trailer: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=daXuaHSVTww
🍃 Teasr: : https://www.youtube.com/shorts/ewTcSstH9LU
Am I allowed to use the images? Probably not. Yesterday I donated €500 to the Lebenshöfe & Co. from Robert's livestream. Does the end justify the means? Probably not. But maybe I can donate the fine.
∞
Every now and then there is a dead chicken among the eggs. The conveyor belts for faeces, eggs and feed do not stop for animals. Constant psychological stress leads to violence. In the end, everyone loses. Nobody wins here. Not even the humans.
If you slip or get pushed, you lose. If you get caught with your claws, you lose. Bars and "nests" guarantee hours of agonising suffocation.
The cloacal prolapse. This way of dying has its own name. The muscles of the laying hens slacken and red tissue hangs out of the cloaca. The cloaca is the rear body opening from which poo and eggs come out. Chickens are hypersensitive to the colour red. Out of curiosity, they peck at the wound and inflict life-threatening injuries on their conspecific. And sometimes pull out the intestines. Happens dozens of times in every coop. Every day. Day after day.
Chickens are so fascinated by the colour red that they peck at the dead and wounded. Dolphins fuck dead dolphins, the cockerel tears its copulation partner to pieces before the act, spiders are known for cannibalism, laying hens peck at their dead. That's the way it is in the animal kingdom. With only one difference. When humans are involved, there are too many deaths. And you get pictures like this. I am ashamed to be human.
A perfectly normal Monday. Seventeen agonisingly dead laying hens are disposed of with little dignity on a cargo bike. As if they had just come out of the gas chamber.
Laying hens need 4-5g of calcium every day. Because they have to lay so many eggs. In the wild, they would lay ten, maybe fifteen eggs a year. That's not enough even for organic farms. Laying hens therefore produce 300 eggs a year. They cannot absorb this much calcium from their food and then even break down their own bones. This is why many suffer broken bones. Or the shell bursts inside their own bodies.
The egg is still good. The chicken, rather average. Only good for soup. The price of conveyor belt labour between droppings and the layer feed chain is high. Producing until we die for our Sunday egg. Literally. Perish.
That is the opposite of life. Living death. Not because of the farmers. No. They are trapped in the system.
Solely because we buy it. We do.
Or do you give up ice cream, pudding, cake and pastries? The vanilla sauce for Dampfnudel, the classic Hüttn dish for animal lovers. Sheer sarcasm.
Not so keen on sweets? Where do you think my favourite Italian restaurant's spaghetti carbonara and your parade of vegetable balls come from? Mayonnaise, hollandaise, bread rolls and croissants also often contain egg. Hamburgers (not the ones that drown in ten years), meat patties, Kaiserschmarrn anyway. Even vegetarian sausage substitutes contain egg. I bet you'll look at the ingredients of chips, mashed potatoes and salad dressing after you've seen the next photo? That sucks.
Free range. In Germany. I kid you not. That's our law. Because we believe we have the God-given right to our God-damned breakfast egg. Or what.
Free Range Eggs
Free. German. Land. Attitude.
Robert Marc Lehmann. He was there for us. So that we can open our eyes and realise what it means to eat eggs.
Drop by and support him. He's a good man. And attractive.
Love goes out. ❤️
Speaking of love. If you click on the heart at the bottom, I know that the topic isn't a cloaca for you. I would be delighted in this otherwise dreary world.