My name is Ed and I’m a Polar bear. The people at bobcrespo.com have been kind enough to allow me this forum to address a lot of discussions about me and my fellow Polar Bears that has been going on in human society. We bears know people are pretty fascinated with us, what with all the camera crews you people send up north to film us and those tourist buses on tractor treads that drive right into our damned living rooms, so to speak. Frankly, its been kind of annoying. I can’t tell you how many hunts you people have ruined for me, and I’m only one bear. You think maybe you can tell the announcer to shut the fuck up next time and just dub in his lame comments later in the studio? I’m a Polar Bear and even I know about voiceovers, dammit! When the seals hear one of you pompous clowns using his dopey “serious narrator” voice they know immediately there’s a hungry bear ready to pounce and they beat it pronto. Thanks for nothing!
Plus there’s all that hardware involved in filming TV shows; the cameras and the trucks and snowmobiles, the wires and all the klieg lights, to say nothing of that roaring generator you need to produce the electricity for all that crap, plus heaters, your coffee pots, microwave ovens and your damned computers and screechy televisions and radios. There’s not exactly a whole lot of electric outlets handy up here in Antarctica, so you bring a mini-version of your own environment with you and then pretend you’re braving the elements. Do you assholes think all that stuff is silent and invisible? Maybe to your TV audiences it is, who only get to see what’s on one side of the camera. We bears know better, and that jefkoff with the parka and the goggles perched jauntily on his forehead where they don’t do him any good can’t get into the trailer fast enough to get naked with the make-up lady in the heated jacuzzi when he’s finished droning his idiotic lines and squinting into the camera like he’s Daniel Boone out conquering the untamed wilderness all by his lonesome. Oh, he’s a real he-man all right, protected by 5 big guys with hunting rifles the viewer doesn’t get to see either.
At least the Eskimos we used to deal with didn’t have anything but their coats, kayaks and spears, and lived in ice igloos that didn’t require tearing up the entire Antarctic to build. Then they met the rest of you, and the hunting encounters between us and them became pretty one-sided. At least when they were hunting us before, there was an even chance that we would be enjoying some raw Eskimo, not quite as tasty and fatty as seal meat, but a pretty decent meal if you ate two of them. Then all of a sudden they all had high powered rifles and snowmobiles and went to town hunting Polar Bears and selling our skins so rich people could make love on us in their ski lodges. We don’t mind so much getting killed and eaten, that’s the way of the world up here for all of us eventually, but there’s something wrong with being left out there to freeze uneaten while your hide is a thousand miles away getting stained with love juices from some fat, sweaty lawyer and his mistress.
So now we get word that all the countries that border our territory got together and decided they wanted to protect us Polar Bears. Great, now we’re really in for some interference in our seal hunts. Not only that, they’ve sent teams of idiots up here to study our love lives! How would like me and a couple of my buddies to watch you puny hairless monkeys doing the wild thing? That can be arranged, you know. We’ve had a few meetings of our own in Polar Bear Land, and guess what? We’ve decided we’ve had enough of your protection and your damned interference so we’ve put you on our endangered species list, with us doing the endangering! That’s right, Peeping Toms, we’ve issued orders to eat on sight regarding humans with cameras. For your information, Polar Bears adapted once to changing climate conditions and we will do it again if we have to, with you or without you. You people tend to screw up everything you touch so we’ll thank you to look after your own heinies and not ours, unless you want to risk one of us chomping on your ample butt. This is Ed the Polar Bear casting my vote to muddle through whatever comes without your input.