Ruminations From Within a Cage

By Michael Dunn


             Being pent up in my house due to the raging virus outside, I recently had the opportunity of watching the documentary The Tiger King, which is quite popular these days.   During the viewing, I found myself thinking about how strange this species of ours is.  For one thing, we seem to be the only creatures who not only take pleasure in capturing and caging animals for others to gawk at, but we engage in such endeavors for profit and gain.  Granted, other animals build things, but they do so to help them adapt and survive in the environment in which they live.  Whether it’s a bird building a nest, a beaver building a dam, or a swarm of bees constructing a hive, those endeavors have a constructive purpose.  Humans, on the other hand, the supposed highest form of life on the planet, the species with the ability to construct the most marvelous of structures, seem to be genetically programmed to build cages, walls, fences, and pens so that they can restrict movement and deprive creatures, including themselves, from moving freely about.

            I mention this now in the context of what’s happening around the world with the seemingly unstoppable spread of a virus that has caged all of us in our own little cells, whether they be in apartment complexes, houses, castles, prisons, or homeless shelters.  We are all prisoners now, sometimes allowed to roam around “the yard”, but prohibited from getting too close to one another for fear of contracting the dreaded disease perpetrated by a nonliving thing, a virus mysteriously created by a force of nature.  And for those thousands of us who are destined to do our time in the hole, at least we know that we will remain safe as long as we do not attempt to escape from solitary confinement.

And if you go back and examine the history of the human race and look at the madmen and megalomaniacs who tried and failed to conquer the world, you would indeed have to see the irony and admire the incredible power of a virus which, for the time being, holds sway over our species.  Without so much as issuing a decree or firing a shot, this virus has subjugated a species who see themselves as a cut above all forms of life on a planet that they alone are in the process of destroying.  Quite impressive, I’d say.

            And as you sit penned in your cage, like me, you just might ask yourself why exactly do we put creatures in cages and lock up so many of our own kind in prisons, gulags, iced cages, and detention centers that seem ill suited for members of any species.  What purpose is served by detaining individuals who don’t resemble us or share our beliefs?  And why do we so futilely attempt to correct and rehabilitate those who failed to adhere to the rules that were created by the many wardens in our society.  Surely, there must be a better way to help those who are different from us or who have made mistakes and been caged and walled off as a result.  In another stroke of irony, many of those prisoners may soon be released not because their time was well served, but rather because our leaders fear that their continued captivity would add to the virus’ army and further deplete our already short supplies.  Captives hardened by conditions that would make most of us cringe, I might add.   

            And so, we are forced to do battle with an invisible foe, a foe that gladly welcomes recruits into its ranks.  And what strategy have our generals devised to defeat this most formidable of enemies?  To cage and confine the entire human race until they can come up with a better plan or find a weapon to blunt the strength of the virus?  Scary.  But in the end, if they do come up with a winning strategy or a cure, only then will our cages be unlocked.  And when and if we emerge victorious, hopefully we will realize that capturing and caging is just not the best way to treat any creature that roams the planet.