Meat Three burly men and a milk-fed boy wearing dusty cowboy hats growl over blood-red ribeyes. The boy is still wobbly under his over-sized hat resting on his ears, still soft-boned and tender. Intent on cutting, carving, slicing, chewing, the men say little. Grasping the knife and fork tightly in his fists, the boy manages one bloody bite. Hats or headdresses, horns, bones, it makes no difference, the ritual is the same— the boy watches the father, the chieftain, shaman, warrior, and sops up the last of the kill with white bread. For now, he will feel the power…
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