"Bovine banditry"--the practice of using animal names to describe human behavior--takes on meaning both sacred and profane. A noted animal psychologist says the cow is the only way out of our collective existential angst.

                                                      The Cow as
Compassionate Interloper       
                                                              

It is becoming increasingly apparent that the term "mad cow" is taking on
meaning, both sacred and profane, far beyond the etymology associated with
that wicked meat. This development all inveterate cheese-lovers should view
with alarm.

We know from sophisticated double-blind research projects that it is not
unusual for humans to go to the animal kingdom when desirous of enlarging a
limited vocabulary. Someone is a "pig" who eats fast and wears his panties
outside his thrice-torn jeans. We use this term though pigs don't eat fast
and, given the river of shit these swine produce, they have little need for
cute, rose-colored underwear.

Animal metaphors fall from the tongue like old lovers. Someone is as brave
as a lion though we know this beast is a slob who lives off the road kill
brought down by the old lady. Someone looks like a dog though, by and large,
dogs look better than people, except when the two creatures live together.
Then both sport a really dreary hang-dog look. This is especially true in
Britain where dogs have learned to swim in the bastard gene pool of a race
in decline.

"Catty" is used to describe a certain feline behavior, though cats usually
don't gossip for hours behind bathroom doors when having their period.
Calling someone a cow or an "old cow" is rarely a compliment except in the
southwest corner of Bombay on Rogue Tuesdays. "Having a cow" is a more
neutral term but is under fire by PC Semantic Police who consider the phrase
cruelty to a barnyard animal.

Our appropriation of the animal kingdom to describe our own stupid behavior
is quite understandable. Psychologically speaking, the habit is called
"bovine banditry."

The "mad cow" usage, however, seems different. In the UK anti-social
behavior, such as displayed by the Leeds soccer louts, is called mad cow.
Even the tabloid press has called for these louts to suffer the mad cow
fate. This tribal justice will probably not work as studies have shown the
beer-sodden brains of these boozing boobs with easily weather the stun-gun.
It would be like shooting into Jell-O.

A Mad Cow nightclub just opened in Berlin. Party goers have been known to
moo and defecate on the dance floor at the same time in a messy parody of
the popular mosh pit routine

We know that the recently outlawed Moo By Chan movement in China almost
brought the government to its knees. Practitioners would simply assume a
wobbly mad cow pose and maintain this lunatic meadow lark for hours.
Powerful as the Moo movement is, one suspects that Chinese officials are
simply projecting their own stupidity on the Moo-ers who are only too happy
to serve as a mirror for government madness. No word yet whether any Moo
people have been run over by tanks.

We can be reasonably sure that the millions worldwide touched by the mad cow
syndrome have never consumed robust British beef. Accordingly, the mad cow
tick seems to have touched spirit as well as body. I have heard of mad cow
worship in places as remote as McKeesport, Pennsylvania and Walhala, Sudan.
Priests apparently wear cow masks and struts across dung-dressed altars with
a clove-footed certainty.

From a psychological perspective it appears that the cow has been
appropriated as a sacrificial victim, taking on the dark Shadow forces of
human kind. This is in the tradition of the ancient Scapegoat who takes on
the sins of the village and then, poor bugger, is stoned to death. The cow
is our scapegoat and seems to accept willingly our sins and burdens. This is
an archetypal inevitability. I consider the practice no more dangerous than
throwing salt over the left shoulder three times.

In a way the international identification with this miserable, put-upon
beast indicates that we are still capable of genuine affection.  To identify
with these double-udder innocents, slaughtered because they walk funny and
have cheese for brains, suggests we have not lost the capacity for
compassion.

Psychologically, the mad cow phenomenon has done more to bring man and beast
together since Freud warned those horny shepherds about keeping too close a
watch on their sheep at night. Being called by Freud a "wooly-headed wanker"
is no compliment. 


Dr. Z. Meadow Lark