Category Archives: Animal Experimentation

Past & Future Potential Efficacy of Targeted Hoaxes

Simul-posted with Negotiation is Over!


Imagine, if you will, a woman walks into a library or university computer lab far from her place of residence.[1] She wears loose-fitting clothes of a style she doesn’t normally wear, purchased from a thrift store in a city she doesn’t frequent. Maybe she wears sunglasses, a bandana over her scalp; she’s removed her piercings if she has any—in short, this woman disguises her appearance from security cameras. Ones that are becoming more and more common as this culture moves ever closer to a techno-fascist police state. When she walks into the computer lab, she tilts down her head and uses care to avoid raising suspicion or interest. Her goal, in the end, is to be completely unmemorable in every possible way. She’s also parked her vehicle well away from the computer lab’s location—making sure it’s a place where getting a ticket is NOT a possibility (since any paper trail that ties you to a certain place and time is potentially catastrophic—this goes for buying gas or anything else on her way to this distant-from-home location; cash, cash, everything in cash, always!). Blending in with her surroundings, she sets up a new one-time-only email account with nonsense information and password that has no connection to her life or personality whatsoever.

From there, her possibilities are limitless. Maybe she learned about a timber sale on a piece of beautiful, life-filled forest (one located distant from her area of residence); in an effort to protect that ecosystem and those trees, she sends emails to the Forest Service and logging company, claiming to’ve spiked several dozen trees with metal and non-metal spikes, encouraging them—for the safety of their workers and equipment—to cancel the sale. Or perhaps she sends out a communiqué from the “Animal Rights Militia” or “Justice Department”, saying her group contaminated an entire shipment of meat from a particular slaughterhouse. Something like this could potentially cause tens or even hundreds of thousands of dollars in damage; if the target is chosen strategically, she could theoretically force an entire slaughterhouse out of business with just one email! Or a final example: perhaps this clandestine activist—tired of the woeful snail-pace of progress toward a sane/sustainable/just society, knowing the imminent calamitous threat of climate change—sends emails to an oil refinery, the Department of Transportation, and a specific railroad company (the emails for which she memorized before her little adventure, and never wrote anything down until the moment of action); she claims that her group sabotaged a stretch of railroad tracks leading up to that oil refinery, and that the many hundreds of tankers filled with crude oil that’d normally deliver to that refinery that day could be derailed and cause a catastrophic spill if the shipment is not cancelled or delayed. Keep in mind: a medium-sized refinery processes somewhere in the neighborhood of 700,000 gallons of crude oil every single day. If production is halted, even for just one day, this would likely cost the refinery hundreds of thousands of dollars. This may seem hyperbolic, but it’s anything but: the group with probably more environmental success than any other group, EVER, is the Movement for the Emancipation of the Niger Delta (MEND). A few years ago, by destroying a single bottlenecked/choke point oil pipeline, they were able to keep approximately 30 PERCENT of the region’s oil in the ground for a week—this one action raised the price of oil globally.

The genius of this young woman’s email actions is that she never has to actually commit any of these actions. She merely has to make her targets believe she has done so. The risk she’s taking is monumentally low, especially when compared with the risk of actually physically committing these acts for real. She knows that hoaxes couldn’t and shouldn’t ever completely replace real-world actions, but a mixture of BOTH could make substantial gains with a startling amount of ease and expediency.

If you’re still skeptical about the potential efficacy of hoax-activism, how about a real-world example—one that helped win a major campaign, one that I was involved in as a grassroots protestor (and ONLY in that capacity)—would that lend credence to this tactical concept?

As it turns out, the campaign on which I cut my activist teeth benefitted immeasurably from a high-profile hoax. In 2006 through early 2007, Southern California activists were struggling hard to get the POM Wonderful juice company to stop funding experiments on mice and rabbits. We did many home demos.[2] The vice-president of the company resigned as a result of our campaign. PETA eventually got its high-profile stature involved. And then it happened: the Animal Rights Militia (ARM) claimed to’ve contaminated nearly 500 bottles of POM Wonderful’s famous pomegranate juice at Whole Foods stores across the eastern seaboard. The supermarket chain pulled all POM products from its shelves, and announced that if POM didn’t cease its animal testing by a certain impending date, they would no longer sell their products. The next day, POM Wonderful announced that they would cease all current and future animal testing.[3] This perfectly displayed how effective a multi-pronged approach could be; It was a triple-threat of local grassroots activism, a monolithic national group, and underground illegal action. Turns out the ARM’s announcement of juice-tampering was a hoax—but it worked. In the words of Denzel Washington from Training Day, “It’s not what you know, it’s what you can prove!” Well, I know the POM campaign proved how effective a hoax could be. Without a doubt, it would’ve taken us a lot longer to win that battle were it not for the Animal Rights Militia’s communiqué. Instead we were able to immediately move on to a new targeted campaign against ever-specious animal testing.


Imagine the possibilities. Just imagine—and then act accordingly!

*Note: as a writer, I offer these suggestions solely for literary purposes. I do not condone or encourage illegal activity, even though our planet and all her inhabitants are direly imperiled, even though industrial civilization is causing a mass extinction of plants and animals, with up to 200 species a day going extinct. Some things—like laws—are just simply more important than life, and its continuance!



[1] The adage, “Never shit in your own backyard” comes to mind.

[2] The second animal rights demonstration—and third overall demo—I ever went to was a raucous affair at a POM executive’s house, replete w/ a line of cops in riot gear on her front lawn. How’s THAT for a welcome to the world of AR activism?!

[3] In a hilarious bit of irony, this proclamation came just days after POM’s owner told demonstrators at his Beverly Hills home that he wouldn’t cease his company’s vivisection even if we were to “protest him for a thousand years!”

Happy Birthday Rod Coronado!

Happy birthday to one of the most amazing Earth/animal liberation activists EVER! If you consider yourself an environmentalist or believe in animal rights you NEED to know all about Rod.

rod young

Check out this great article from the Earth First! Newswire.

And listen to this incredibly touching and beautiful song by Dana Lyons, a personal friend of Rod’s. It’s called “Song for Rod Coronado.” I had to upload it myself because it wasn’t yet on YouTube =)

You can buy this incredible collection of Rod’s writings called Flaming Arrows from former animal liberator Peter Young’s Animal Liberation Frontline.

Song for the Liberators

This is from the 1,600 page handwritten novel I wrote in prison, called The Liberators. It is an epic political thriller about a group of underground animal liberationists. Context: CJ Barry, the president of a University animal rights group, has been subpoenaed to appear before a Grand Jury, in Los Angeles, that is investigating an arson committed at his school. There is a massive protest outside the Federal Building, and a famous vegan mega-pop-star (kind of like a Chrissie Hynde-type, but even bigger) named Zander Huxley has written a song about animal liberation, called Song for the Liberators, which she sings at the protest (this is all fictional). Here is what she sings….

The animals trapped miserable in their cages
And everyone just sits around and waits.
Except for those brave, masked sages
Who break in and liberate.

Carpe noctem,” they say, “seize the night.
We’ll don our black clothes and masks
And for the oppressed we will fight—
As we set about our righteous freedom tasks.”

“Our soaring hearts will not be tamed,”
Their primal warrior cry;
“We’ll watch their buildings go up in flames
Until the very day we die.”

So free the animals
Or support the ones who do.
Free the animals
It’s up to me and you.

Yeah free the animals.
Let ‘em say what they might.
Free the animals—
Search your heart, you’ll know it’s right.

“Liberate! Until the day we die!
Liberate!” Their ceaseless freedom cry.

Me (in white) reading the song/poem to a group of fellow activists recently during an event where we buried the ashes of the ~30 animals we used in a ceremony for National Animal Rights Day III.

Me (in white) reading the song/poem to a group of fellow activists recently during an event where we buried the ashes of the ~30 animals we used in a ceremony for National Animal Rights Day III.

For more information on National Animal Rights Day III and our incredibly powerful and touching public ceremony, during which several dozen compassionate southern Californians stood in formation and held the dead bodies of animals who died in slaughterhouses because of sickness, overcrowding, heat exhaustion, et. al. and were therefore “unfit to eat”, please see my dear friend Kara’s wonderful vegan feminist blog post on her Vegan Rabbit WP site, National Animal Rights Day 2013 Activists Share Their Stories.

Britches–The Monkey Who Sparked a Movement

Written as a Guest Blog for Los Angeles-based anti-vivisection group Progress for Science.


There is—I would say inarguably—no more iconographic an image of both the animal liberation movement and the horrors of the vivisection-industrial complex than that of a black-masked individual cradling a baby stumptail macaque monkey in his or her arms. But the story behind that image is at least as significant and representative as the image itself. It is the story of Britches.

This macaque monkey, who came to be known as Britches, was born in early 1985 in a laboratory at the University of California, Riverside, and torn away from his mother shortly thereafter. His eyes were sewn shut and a sonar device was strapped to his head 24 hours a day; this device emitted piercing, jarring metallic sounds. He was stuck in a tiny steel cage with only a blanket and a small padded post to which he would desperately cling, terrified and alone. This study was supposedly designed to study blindness; according to the researchers, they didn’t want to go through the trouble of traveling to actual blind people’s houses, and so instead performed animal mutilation. He exhibited extreme neurotic behavior—uncontrollable muscle spasms and twitching, rubbing incessantly at his body, and emitting shrieks at frequent intervals. The extent of torture he experienced can clearly be seen on the video shot by the liberators themselves.

Thankfully for poor little Britches—who was small enough to fit into the palm of your hand—there were people who cared, and who were compelled to do something about this senseless brutality. A courageous student working inside the UC Riverside laboratories managed to get the word out to an unknown ALF (Animal Liberation Front) contact, and a group was assembled to break in and rescue Britches and other animals. The ALF cell waited until spring break when there would be far fewer people on campus. In the middle of the night in March of 1985, they tunneled through air ventilation systems and broke through numerous locked doors, all the while staying clear of roving security guards. The liberators were dressed in white lab coats with black balaclava masks. Utilizing their clandestine contacts, an anonymous, sympathetic veterinarian was ready and waiting to examine the animals, and they’d already found a safe, out-of-state home for Britches to go. All told, that night some 700 animals were rescued from a lifetime of nothing but horrific misery, including mice, rats, rabbits, pigeons, opossums, and cats. It remains one of the largest and most high-profile “live liberations” of laboratory animals ever.

The ensuing fallout from the action was monumental. The ALF-sympathetic veterinarian found on Britches a shoddy suturing job that resulted in multiple lacerations of his eyelids and damage to his corneas. Lesions were found all over his upper body. Dr. Ned Buyukmihci, UC Davis Veterinary Opthamologist, went on record, insisting that the sutures used were far too large, and that they were even an improper type. Dr. Buyukmihci stated, “There can be no possible justification for this sloppy, painful experiment.”ons” of laboratory animals ever.

Outrage came from many sectors. President Grant Mack of the American Council of the Blind said the experiments were “…repugnant and ill-conceived boondoggles”. He stated that to spend “$275,000 to artificially blind monkeys and study those animals…in hopes that they will learn something that will help human beings is reaching quite far. I would think that the purposes would be served a good deal better if they used the same amount of research to find out about blindness from blind people…people who can articulate how they really feel and how they react…”

Not surprisingly, UC Riverside went into the familiar deny-everything-mode. They claimed that it was the ALF-sympathetic veterinarian who damaged Britches’ eyes, and that the footage of Britches was doctored with makeup, and that all of their experiments were completely painless. However, when internal documents were later obtained through the Freedom of Information Act, the University’s claims were exposed as blatant lies.

This is something we’ve seen again and again and again, since some of the first footage came out of vivisection laboratories, and continuing to this very day. Universities scramble to justify their pointless and torturous experiments, repeating their tired mantras ad infinitum. Sadly, the majority of the public swallows their lies with nary a hint of critical thought. It is up to us—those who know the truth and care about the agony of voiceless innocents—to expose the corporate institutions’ lies and brainwashing for what they are.

In the end, Britches, that one tiny monkey, can stand as a model, a symbolic pillar, of the wastefulness, cruelty, sociopathology, and callous murderousness of not only the vivisection-industrial complex, but of industrial civilization as a whole. Live liberations of laboratory animals have become in most cases prohibitively difficult given the increase in security and surveillance of the modern techno-fascist police state and its corporate-friendly (to put it mildly) laws and prison sentences. For this reason, it is imperative that those who care about life on our planet adapt, evolve, and overcome in order to find ways to bring about real justice when the cards are stacked against us. This no doubt involves vamping up the militancy of our thoughts and actions and those which we support, until the level of action we either undertake or vocally support becomes commensurate with the calamitous problems at hand. We owe at least that much to the memory of Britches—and to the courageous unknown warriors who saved him and all the other animals that night.

A quick note on little Britches’ fate: Instead of being murdered and dissected after a short, miserable existence inside UC Riverside, he lived for 20 joyous years with an adopted primate mother at a sanctuary.

Sources used for this article:
Free the Animals by Ingrid Newkirk

Interview with ALF Arsonist/Prisoner Walter Bond

FANTASTIC interview with Animal Liberation Front arsonist, political prisoner and green anarchist Walter Bond.

“…we will have to not only get rid of the road we are on, but also get rid of the road.”

“No machine is morally neutral when it’s sole design and intent is to eviscerate, vivisect, slash cut and transport the splintered, destroyed and devastated remains of the biosphere! The technologies we use to heal the sick and, lessen pain and suffering and generally make the human world a more comfortable place are scant in comparison to the damage done.”

Profane Existence


Punk bands tour the world singing anthems that promote militant direct action & activism, putting out albums with flaming Molotovs emblazoned across their covers, with militant messages; but few of us ever truly put those words into action. Walter Bond on the other hand has spent decades working tirelessly, whether leafleting at shows and in the streets, tabling at Pride events, protesting, or volunteering at animal sanctuaries before finally turning to the more militant tactics of the Animal Liberation Front. Walter is a proud anarchist, Vegan, of Latino heritage, who identifies as bisexual. He also is currently a prisoner  in one of the most controversial and restrictive prisons in the USA today.

I have been writing to Walter in prison since he was first arrested 2 years ago, after his brother snitched him out. At the time of his arrest, Walter…

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Effective Action in the Face of Intense Repression

Written by me, Jan Smitowicz, and simul-posted with Negotiation is Over!

Car belonging to UC Santa Cruz vivisector, incinerated by animal liberationists in 2007.

It was the summer of 2007 and things were getting hot in the Los Angeles animal rights world. At the end of June, an incendiary device was left under the posh BMW of a UCLA primate vivisector, Arthur Rosenbaum. It failed to ignite; even so, the Federal Bureau of Investigation was offering a $110,000 reward to any information leading to the arrest and conviction of those responsible. A reward of $60,000 (UCLA contributed $30,000 to each of the reward offers) was still being offered for a similar incident from the prior summer, when an incendiary device was left on the porch of a different UCLA primate torturer, Lynn Fairbanks. The FBI claimed the device—which also failed to ignite—was left on the wrong porch, that of an elderly neighbor. How bad that looks for the radical(s) who performed the action, right? I’m confident it’s a complete fabrication by the FBI–it wouldn’t be the first time (see COINTELPRO).

During World Week for Laboratory Animals in April of 2007, a federal agent was putzing around trying to hand out fliers to activists at UCLA about the incident and the reward money. Most of us didn’t even take the fliers. We don’t know shit, leave us alone! We were pretty fresh off a relatively short but intense—and successful!—campaign against the POM Wonderful juice company. Southern California activists performed frequent and noisy home demonstrations against the corporation’s CEOs and various executives. POM was funding animal research on rabbits and baby mice (which included depriving the latter of oxygen for 45 minutes to induce severe brain damage) to try and show how their juice could help with erectile dysfunction and Alzheimer’s.

I was president of Irvine Students Against Animal Cruelty (ISAAC) at UC Irvine, but I cut my home demo teeth on this campaign. Vice President and company spokesperson Fiona Possell resigned from the company, citing pressure from animal rights groups (that was us!) It was at her classy home in Santa Monica during a home demonstration that a neighbor punched a female protestor in the face—police were nearby, and it was caught on camera, but nothing was done. No surprise there, as the police exist largely to enforce the status quo and protect the rich and powerful members of the dominant culture. In addition to our protests, the Animal Rights Militia (ARM) claimed in December 2006 to have tampered with several hundred bottles of POM Wonderful’s pomegranate juice on the East Coast, and that anybody who drank one of the contaminated bottles would get diarrhea and vomiting. The communique stated, in part,

“If people who want to hold a sign and shout to get out the truth about what’s happening inside places that confine and inflict pain and cruelty on animals are being thrown in jail and harassed by the government, we will fight that much harder from the underground, where it’s safer than holding a sign and yelling the truth” [emphasis added].

Whole Foods pulled ALL POM Wonderful from their shelves; on January 16, they announced that they would cease selling the juice at all of their stores nationwide starting April 1. The very next day, the company announced that they would cease all animal testing. This campaign is a perfect, quintessential example of how aboveground, legal tactics and illegal sabotage can work beautifully in concert, even when there is an absolute firewall between the two—no connection, no crossover in knowledge or personnel. But that’s not what this essay is about.

This essay is about one particular day of demonstrations around Los Angeles. I merely discussed the aforementioned to set the scene, to show the level of intensity and police interest and intimidation against our aboveground, legal, (supposedly) constitutionally-protected free speech. Whenever underground actions happen, the authorities get so frustrated because they are almost pathologically incapable of catching saboteurs. So they come after those who are doing legal activism, so they can at least suppress something! Several houses of activists had recently been raided in the LA-area. Because of this and other repressive measures by the police, the organizers of this day of demonstrations decided that we would do it Black-Bloc style—wearing all black clothes and using bandanas or masks to cover our faces. This served a dual purpose: to hide our identities from the blueballed cops, and to display our solidarity with the faceless, nameless animals being tortured and killed for profit and nothing more.

We met in the late morning at a park-and-ride lot off Mulholland Drive in North Hollywood, right next to the 405 Freeway. As we were milling around waiting for everyone to arrive and figure out carpool logistics, one of the activists pointed across the massive ten-lane Highway to another parking lot: there was a guy in a pickup truck, staring at us through binoculars. An undercover cop or investigator. “Looks like the heat is already here,” somebody commented. We had no idea just how hot it would get.

The first demonstration was a short and relatively bullshit-free one at the Westwood home and neighborhood of a UCLA vivisector. Then we moved on to the apartment building of the head of Los Angeles Animal “Services,” the umbrella for all animal shelters in the county—which euthanized approximately 50,000 dogs and cats and other companion animals a year (and then sold their corpses to rendering plants, which boiled them up and sold the fatty gunk to factory farms for cows and chickens and others to eat—if you eat animal corpses, you literally could be eating someone who ate your dear euthanized companion animal—puppies on your plate). There were a few cop cars at the demo, but it was still relatively quiet. Then the LA Sheriff’s Department helicopter showed up and hovered way up overhead, watching us. A fucking police helicopter, for about fifteen (15) activists! We headed for Santa Monica, our last destination for the day, and that’s when it started to get really crazy. Each of the four carloads of demonstrators by now had an undercover tail, probably hired by UCLA. The police chopper was also following us across the sprawling city. One of the cars was pulled over leaving the demo and Coby, then about 82 years old, was given a ticket for not wearing her seatbelt (it was broken, she couldn’t wear it). They were detained, held up for nearly an hour, thereby eliminating their ability to attend the final protest.

Me and the rest of our carload were getting pretty goddamned annoyed at being followed, so we decided to try and shake the bastard. We blasted through red lights, screeched around corners, zipped down alleys, parked and hid in a driveway. Thought we lost him. We waited for five minutes and then emerged from the alley, only to find him right there waiting for us. Shit!

When we arrived at UCLA primate torturer Arthur Rosenbaum’s lovely blood-money house in Santa Monica, the scene literally took our breath away. It was like nothing I’ve ever seen before. His entire block was barricaded off on both ends. There was an entire line of cops in full riot gear—helmets, padding, batons—stretching across his entire front yard. Cop cars everywhere. Helicopter chopping the sky overhead. Two big city buses were parked at the end of the street; they were empty, and I don’t know if they brought the cops, or if they were there to hustle us all off to prison. Because believe me when I tell you they really, REALLY wanted to arrest us. To say the cops had hard-ons for us doesn’t even begin to describe it. Clusters of them on every corner and at each barricade. Lines of them surrounding his house. It looked like a fucking war zone, but no—just an animal abuser’s house in Santa Monica on a pleasant, warm Sunday afternoon! I counted over sixty police officers, and that was just the ones in uniform. Sixty-plus cops—for twelve activists. More than five cops for every one nonviolent, peaceful protestor. Good to know our tax dollars are being well spent to repress legitimate dissent, eh?!

They had the decibel-measuring machine ready and waiting already. We’d previously been harassed and repressed and arrested for “exceeding the allowable decibel level,” an old, obscure city law they either dug up or created just for us. They said if we exceeded 40 decibels we’d be arrested. Do you know what 40 decibels sounds like?? You’re reading this in your head, you’re almost exceeding 40 fucking decibels. 30 is a whisper, so 40 is a soft chat. We’re supposed to be allowed freedom of speech and assembly and protest, but we couldn’t even chant! So fuck it—when the heat is on, you adapt and overcome. We mutually agreed, all 12 of us, to do a silent protest, thereby eliminating their ability to arrest us (on THAT charge, anyway!). We had to be extremely careful, because they yearned tragically to arrest each and every one of us. As we began marching in step down the street with our signs, the cop with the sound measurer was literally holding the apparatus toward us, hoping the shuffling of our feet would exceed 40 decibels so they could throw us down and brutalize and arrest us. It was so utterly insane and surreal—indescribably so.

We walked up and down Rosenbaum’s block, single-file, keeping close together for at least the psychological illusion of safety and protection. An activist was ticketed by the cops for handing out fliers to neighbors because the fliers didn’t have the group’s address on it, or some ridiculous shit. Every so often we would stop and raise our fists in unison, not uttering a sound. We educated the killer’s neighbors. One of them came out of her house and walked alongside us, across the street, for a solid ten minutes, clapping and thanking us for being there, telling her neighbors that it was beautiful that we were there for the animals. Bless her heart!

When we’d get to the front of Rosenbaum’s house, where the line of riot cops stood holding their batons and trying to intimidate us like the terrorists they are, we adopted a new tactic: the entire length of his house, we stood in line facing the cops and slowly shuffle-stepped sideways, staring into their eyes through the plastic of their protective shields—our eyes, the only parts of our faces visible above our bandanas. When our line was fully in front of the house, just feet from the cops, we’d stop and throw up our fists and whisper together, “ANIMAL LIBERATION!” I looked into their eyes and whispered things like, “Do you know who you’re protecting? Do you know what this man does to nonhuman primates?”

And so it was that we spent an hour there, educating the neighbors, inconveniencing Arthur Rosenbaum (who was home—we’d see him or his family or friends peer through the curtains); I like to think that 60-70 cops and a blocked-off street and a dozen riot-gear-clad filth was far more annoying and scary than we could’ve ever been with just a normal, noisy protest! We also probably cost the county several hundred thousand dollars that day. With only about a dozen of us! Legal economic sabotage, if you will. It seems like it would be hard for the cities and the county to justify ever again spending that kind of money on a small cadre of nonviolent, legal protestors. I find it unbelievable that not a single one of us was arrested, given how badly they wanted to, and how easy it would’ve been for them to just do it and fabricate a reason, and how much money and person-power they were spending on us. That alone is an amazing victory for us. I’m proud of my fellow activists that day for not backing down from the inferno of heat that surrounded us. When that kind of repression comes down, it is a clear message from those in power that we are being effective. That is the time not to back down, but to INCREASE the pressure on abusers.

As activists for compassion in the thrashing endgame of industrial civilization, to use a phrase of Derrick Jensen’s, it will become ever more important for us to constantly reevaluate our tactics and our targets and our focus, to constantly be open to adaptation in the face of repression. Obviously we wanted to have a loud rowdy demonstration, but we couldn’t—so we overcame the heat and found a way to be effective nonetheless. The repression is only going to increase (see, for example, everything that people like Camille Marino, Tim DeChristopher, Rod Coronado, Chris Lagergren and so many others have gone through or are going through.)

Let this one day and the climate surrounding it be a lesson to all who see the Holocaust of animals and the Earth and aren’t content to be “Good Germans” and let it happen without resisting. Adapt. Overcome. For the animals, for the Earth, FOR THE LIBERATION OF ALL!

Thanks to and for some of the factual information contained herein.  Thanks to Negotiation is Over  for simul-posting with me!

Where My Britches At??

Britches was an infant monkey in UC Riverside’s vivisection laboratories; he was stolen from his mother as a young infant and his eyes were sewn shut, with a device attached to his head that emitted piercing shrieks and metallic sounds and banging.  He was liberated, along with about 1,200 other innocent animals, from the torture chambers at UC Riverside by the Animal Liberation Front in 1985.  Read more about Britches’ story, and see a video about his liberation.

Update: Camille Marino vs. Vivisection-Industrial Complex

“Courageous animal rights activist, Camille Marino, will be facing trial in Detroit, Michigan on November 14th. Camille has been targeted by the Vivisection Complex as the number one threat to their continued ability to torture non-human animals in anonymity for profit. They are attempting to make an example of her in their ongoing battle to erode our First Amendment rights and intimidate the Animal Rights movement into impotence. Her current prosecutor is under enormous pressure from vivisectors around the country to neutralize Camille and it appears that the state will be seeking an upward deviation in her sentencing guidelines should she be convicted. The FBI confiscated her cell phone in May and is most likely actively cooperating in this case.”

Some of our closest animal relatives in tiny cages, their minds consumed by the inevitability of further terror and torture.

Read more here:

To learn a little background on the case of Camille Marino and the repression of legitimate protest against animal research, check out my earlier post Support Camille, which delves not just into her case but others’ as well who have been targeted by the industry and Universities and governments for their effective activism against this greedy, barbaric, needless waste of tax dollars.