To my fellow liberationists,
Though I am nameless, faceless, unseen and unheard in nearly everyrespect, I am everywhere. I am the torment ofcaptivity and the despair of the caged spirit. I am the frozen steel of the transport truck, the corrosive agony of the testing facility, and the unspeakable pain of flesh torn from bone. Though my spirit has been subdued, shaken, tortured, repressed beyond all recognition, I also embody that which can never be stripped of me: I am the resistance to further incursions onto animal dignity and survival.
I come to you, fellow practitioners of direct action in service to the earth and her animal children, to formally enlist support in driving the fur industry into its long-overdue grave.
Through calculated acts of sabotage at the points of research, production and other strategically weak links, this monstrous industry will fall. To quantify the weakness that permeates this conglomerate of killers, consider that there is but one major supplier of vaccine against aleutian disease outbreak among mink. Its capacity to wipe out entire farms if left untreated speaks for itself: one strategic action against United Vaccines, Inc. (2919 Commerce Park Drive, Fitchburg, WI 53719) will have ripple effects across the entire industry.
Similarly, there is but one major pelt processing facility in the United States. The North American Fur Auctions plant (205 Industrial Circle, Stoughton, WI 53589) is already struggling to handle the current volume of raw animal skins, and it is the opinion of this anonymous liberator that two friends and a handful of incendiary creativity would assuredly relieve this facility of its workload.
As the single largest expense in raising animals for their skin, feed supplies are of tremendous significance. Any deliberate campaign (or single act) of sabotage and disruption against the material apparatus of mink and fox raising would have far-reaching effects on the very prisons in which these animals are held.
And isn’t this the point? Not to strike abstract blows against the goliath of exploitation, but to do all we can to relieve the suffering of those relegated to sheds and pens; to extend a hand in tearing open the cages which subjugate our brothers and sisters in fur.
To confront this exploitation and challenge it effectively is the duty of all whom proclaim love for the dying spirit of the wild. To embrace the dark of night as an opportunity to liberate, without yield, without compromise, is the task before us.
In these times of full-blown surveillance warfare, it may seem difficult to assume this role, as if one could not possibly research, practice and deploy the skills necessary to achieve freedom for the mink, fox, bobcat and lynx; but these fears will dissipate once concrete steps are taken to achieve them. Overcoming this fear is part of the liberation process, whereby the trembling hand becomes the courageous fist. After all, under the ubiquitous eye of ever-increasing counter-terrorism law enforcement, compassionate individuals have laid siege to farms in Montana, Idaho, Utah, Illinois, Ohio, Pennsylvania, Minnesota, Colorado and Wisconsin, within a four-month period.
As liberationists, our history is replete with mistakes, misfortunes, and regrets. Repeated battles with the iron fists of state repression have left us questioning our tactics and commitments, producing divisions among our allied networks of above- and underground support. Many of us have been separated from our loved ones, as our fellow warriors are locked in cages themselves, or even killed while acting as the counter-friction we all strive to embody. For them, we act.
The entity we face is unforgiving and unmoved by the trauma and death it perpetuates, so let us reel from history, correct our mis-steps, embrace our role as earth and animal defenders and have as our only regret that the strength within us to liberate was not channeled sooner.
As the next raiding season befalls us, let us envision an endless string of mornings in which the scattered ashes of breeding cards and the hollow remnants of empty cages are all that’s left.
With bolt-cutters, gloves and a heart full of bravery, a single individual can be the stark contrast between an existence spent in hell, and a life returned to the wild.
for love and liberation,