Factory Farming Contemplative Mug Suck

I find myself disturbed by not knowing how many distinct chickens comprise this bulk package I got a great deal on Costco. There’s something about the way that individual subjectivities are collapsed into interchangeable commodoties based on some shared objective property that makes me kind of uneasy these days. I think of the way we objectify not only animals but also each other. All too often, we treat other people like the infant treats their mother’s breast: something with no interiority of its own from which value is extracted.