Oh, to hell with Cecil.
When I was at Parris Island, my drill instructor told his platoon, “You think your girlfriend's pretty? Just picture her sitting on the hopper with a turd coming out of her ass.” I know, it sounds crude but there was a profound and enlightening message hidden in those words. My DI, the man I both hated and loved, was conditioning his men to realize that no one is perfect; that each of us, when reduced to merely biological functions, is just an animal. Even a woman's beauty eventually fades and dies. The only things that are truly enduring and worthwhile – things worth fighting and dying for – are principles. These guiding principles are what sets man apart from all other life forms and measures one man against another. The Marines have two mottos: Semper Fidelis (Always Faithful) and Death Before Dishonor. I have never heard of a better code of conduct.
You think Cecil is something special? Just picture him eating a young antelope while it's still alive and screaming (lions do that, you know). Or picture Cecil chowing down on the Easter Bunny. Better yet, imagine him making a meal of one of your kids. Lions are predators. They kill innocent, defenseless creatures. Cecil is a coldhearted killer who met his demise at the hands of a dentist, a noble healer, a reliever of pain, a corrector of overbites. Both lion and dentist lived their lives the only way they knew how. The only cruelty I can see is assigned to the fool who named the king of beasts “Cecil.” I mean, WTF?
Kill a lion, save a baby antelope. It's all about the children.