{"id":117614,"date":"2017-11-03T11:00:50","date_gmt":"2017-11-03T15:00:50","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/?p=117614"},"modified":"2017-11-03T12:26:02","modified_gmt":"2017-11-03T16:26:02","slug":"throwing-sticks-roosters-dwarf-tossing","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/2017\/11\/03\/throwing-sticks-roosters-dwarf-tossing\/","title":{"rendered":"From Throwing Sticks at Roosters to Dwarf Tossing"},"content":{"rendered":"

On the human desire to hurl (and hurl things at) animals, and other humans.<\/em><\/p>\n

\"\"<\/a><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

In the fourth volume of\u00a0Brett\u2019s Miscellany<\/em>, published in Dublin in 1757, readers could find an entry on a custom called \u201cthrowing at cocks.\u201d This was an activity where a rooster was tied to a post while the participants, as if playing darts, threw small weighted and sharpened sticks (called coksteles<\/em>) at the poor bird until it expired. The article explored the sport\u2019s origin: \u201cWhen the Danes were masters of England, and used the inhabitants very cruelly,\u201d it began, \u201cthe people of a certain great city formed a conspiracy to murder their masters in one night.\u201d The English artfully devised \u201ca stratagem,\u201d but \u201cwhen they were putting it in execution, the unusual crowing and fluttering of the cocks about the place discovered their design.\u201d The Danes, tipped off by the commotion, \u201cdoubled their cruelty\u201d and made the Englishmen suffer as never before. \u201cUpon this,\u201d the entry concluded, \u201cthe English made custom of knocking the cocks on the head, on Shrove-Tuesday, the day on which it happened.\u201d Very soon \u201cthis barbarous act became at last a natural and common diversion, and has continued every since.\u201d Thus the innate human urge to throw things at things entered the early modern era.<\/p>\n

\"\"<\/a>

William Hogarth depicted cock throwing in The Four Stages of Cruelty, Children Torturing Animals <\/em>(1751).<\/p><\/div>\n

Throwing at cocks continued well into the late eighteenth\u00a0century. Although the custom, according to\u00a0Remarks on the character and customs of the English and French\u00a0<\/em>(1726), exemplified a \u201cdiversion of the meanest of the populace,\u201d throwing at cocks was soon normalized. It ranked up there with \u201cplaying at foot ball,\u201d \u201cbowls,\u201d and \u201cprize fighting.\u201d A Complete History of the English Stage<\/em> (1800)\u00a0<\/em>referred to it as an \u201cannual sport.\u201d In 1747, a volume called\u00a0The History and Present State of the British Isles\u00a0<\/em>lumped throwing at cocks with \u201cwrestling,\u201d \u201cfootraces,\u201d and \u201cnine pins\u201d as \u201cthe sports of the common people.\u201d A regular activity, in other words.<\/p>\n

In time, the moralists cracked down on such hoi-polloi barbarity. Anyone who knows anything about throwing at cocks probably does because of Hogarth\u2019s etching,\u00a0First Stage of Cruelty<\/em><\/a>, which demonstrates\u2014while censuring\u2014the incivility of this particular blood sport. John Brand, in his 1777\u00a0Observations on Popular Antiquities<\/em>,\u00a0notes that, \u201cto the credit of our northern manners, the barbarous sport of throwing at cocks on Shrove Tuesdays is worn out in this country.\u201d A London minister who published a lengthy sermon on the topic urged \u201cthe suppression of the throwing at cocks in the town or city\u201d because it was an activity that all too easily exemplified how \u201cthe lower orders of people among us are eminently reproachable.\u201d By 1793,\u00a0the\u00a0Country Spectator\u00a0<\/em>advised that throwing at cocks should be met with the \u201cpain of your heavy displeasure.\u201d<\/p>\n

<\/p>\n

\"\"<\/a>

An engraving of German aristocrats engaged in the sport of fox tossing (1895).<\/p><\/div>\n

The concern here was more with the \u201ccommon people\u201d than the animals they abused. The rabble, according to elite assumptions, shouldn\u2019t get too rambunctious. But among the aristocracy, blood sport persisted uninterrupted. Starting in the\u00a0seventeenth century, leisure-minded nobility would often gather in expansive courtyards, drink enough alcohol to sedate an elephant, and catapult foxes (or other animals) skyward. Fox\u00a0tossing\u2014or, as it was known in Germany, where it originated,\u00a0Fuchsprellen<\/em>\u2014was a two-person team sport. In preparation, each member of a team would stand about twenty feet apart, grab the narrow ends of a large rectangular sling, and lay it flat on the ground. A fox would then be released from a cage and driven over to the awaiting tossers. As the panicked fox scurried over the slings, participants tried to catch the animal with their taught fabric and jerk it skyward. Experts might send the animal hurling as high as twenty feet, and victory was given to the highest fox toss. When many teams were playing at once\u2014which was not unusual\u2014multiple foxes would be released and, when all was going well, tossed foxes would fill the sky.<\/p>\n

This game did not end well for the animals. One fling was never enough. Participants lined the ground with sand or sawdust to soften the animals\u2019 falls and, if flight turned to fight and an animal turned on its oppressors (wildcats were most prone to doing this), the party paused for a summary execution. At best, animals would be returned to their cages for future use, but it seems the general rule was to play to the death. The most famous collective fox toss\u2014and surely the most brutal\u2014happened when Poland\u2019s Augustus II the Strong hosted a fox-tossing\u00a0party in the seventeenth century. According to Howard Blackmore\u2019s\u00a0Hunting Weapons from the Middle Ages to the Twentieth Century<\/em>, the event led to the death of\u00a0647 foxes,\u00a0533 hares,\u00a034 badgers, and\u00a021 wildcats. Augustus II had a grand time distinguishing himself as a fox tosser with an unorthodox style: he used one finger to fling the sling while his partner stabilized the other end with both hands. Other observers were not impressed. The Swedish diplomat\u00a0Esaias Pufendorf,\u00a0upon witnessing a fox toss, remarked that it was \u201ca little alien from the imperial gravity.\u201d<\/p>\n

*<\/p>\n

Enlightened thinking, as it were, both curbed and extended the impulse to throw sentient creatures for the sheer hell of it. On the one hand, fox tossing\u00a0and its ilk were soon squelched by the powerful nineteenth-century animal welfare movement. But, like a disease coming out of remission, the seemingly innate human desire to toss living beings reappeared in the Reagan era. And like many perverse, unbelievably medieval-seeming behaviors that one couldn\u2019t possibly think would survive modernity, it appeared in its most developed form, in the 1980s, in south Florida. It did so, moreover, under the enlightened guise of \u201cconsent.\u201d A fox and a chicken might very well be fun to throw (or throw things at), but these animals cannot agree to the sport in question\u2014a fact the animal-welfare people rightfully stressed to the advantage of their cause. But humans\u2014and in this case, humans with dwarfism\u2014can engage in informed consent. They can even consent to be hurled at a wall. And, for a brief spell in the 1980s, many of them did.<\/p>\n

<\/a>

Still\u00a0from The Wolf of Wall Street<\/em>.<\/p><\/div>\n

Dwarf tossing, sometimes called \u201cmidget\u00a0tossing,\u201d is a bar game in which people with dwarfism wear Velcro padding and agree (and are paid) to be thrown at a Velcro-covered wall adorned with a target. In some cases, the Velcro is left off and the little person is thrown as far as possible onto a soft mat, with the tosser aiming for distance rather than accuracy.\u00a0 The sport may have evolved from a related diversion, popular on Long Island, called\u00a0dwarfbowling\u2014a game that placed a little person on a skateboard and pushed him into a set of bowling pins.<\/p>\n

Some people defend this sort of behavior. Supporters of the\u00a0dwarf\u00a0toss see the activity as little more than consensual fun, an unfettered if esoteric expression of free will in the name of an authentic pub experience. Others (thankfully) object. In 1989, when\u00a0dwarf tossing\u00a0was starting to come under legal scrutiny, a philosopher named H. E. Baber published an academic paper titled \u201cThe Ethics of\u00a0Dwarf\u00a0Tossing.\u201d He conceded that the sport could be fun, if only because \u201cthe deflation of human pretentions is humorous.\u201d But still, throwing a\u00a0dwarf\u00a0was, he concluded, entirely, if not disgustingly, unethical. The reason he offers centers on dignity: \u201cInsofar as little people identify themselves as little people\u2014and being members of a visible group with which others identify\u2014they are harmed when a fellow member of their group is humiliated.\u201d In other words, it\u2019s not the tossed\u00a0dwarf\u00a0who\u2019s the problem but rather that his choice is unfair to the little people who look like him but have the good sense not to be thrown into a wall.<\/p>\n

*<\/p>\n

How have we reached a point in history at which any sane person would want to toss a\u00a0dwarf\u00a0for sport? A teleological approach helps us arrive at an answer. One might begin by appreciating the simple and timeless satisfaction that comes from hitting a target with a thrown object. You identify a goal, you aim at it, you throw the thing, the thing hits the intended spot, pleasure momentarily courses through the brain. Research shows that when the target is hit our brain lights up in all the happy places. So far, so good.<\/p>\n

Adding an animal into the mix certainly complicates matters morally, but it also potentially enhances the experience in a few significant ways. It increases the challenge of hitting a target (or of hurling the object), reminds humans that we throw better than any other species (this is evidently true), confirms our fuller dominance over all those other species (a confidence booster in insecure times), and, however perversely, offers noisy and preverbal feedback in the form of creatures\u2019 panicked squawks, screeches, and yowls of terror (thereby affirming our agency).<\/p>\n

Cross the species barrier to include a little person and the experience yet again assumes new meaning. The act of throwing becomes at once more communicative (you can have an intelligible conversation when object becomes human subject), more hierarchical (power dynamics are fairly obvious when one person throws another), and more consensual (although usually precipitated with substantial cash incentives). Considering how the \u201cbenefits\u201d of the throwing activity devolve in this three-part scenario (becoming darker and less flattering to the human spirit with each iteration) it\u2019s probably best to conclude\u2014although we may have reached this point gradually, imperceptibly, even innocently\u2014that it is a fundamentally bad move to throw a person and, even worse, to enjoy doing so.<\/p>\n

To test my conclusion, I was able to track down and talk with\u00a0someone\u00a0who has tossed a\u00a0dwarf. His name is Gary Wickert, he\u2019s an attorney in Wisconsin, and he did it as part of an \u201cAmerica\u2019s toughest bouncer competition\u201d in 1980. Wickert is six foot seven and was, at the time, 305 pounds, physical characteristics that, in addition to his athleticism, placed him second among fifteen finalists. The first place finisher was the real Mr. T. In any case, Wickert and his fellow competitors engaged in such challenges as throwing chairs, breaking through doors, punching large bags, leaping over bars, negotiating an obstacle course of professional cheerleaders, and, perhaps in a harbinger of the bar sport to come,\u00a0tossing\u00a0a little person.<\/p>\n

Wickert distinguished himself by throwing his little person from an over the head position (as one might shoot a basketball) rather than executing his toss in a more conventional underhanded or sideways fashion. He takes pride in the fact that he sent his little person through the air farther than any other competitor, including Mr. T (who ended up getting the better of Wickert in the boxing ring\u2014although Wickert thinks that judging was bad).\u00a0But when I asked Wickert about how the little person might have interpreted the experience of being thrown by him, his tone shifted. He paused for a moment. After stressing that the activity was safe, that he needed the money for law school, and that he was raised by decent and hardworking parents, Wickert said this about his singular\u00a0dwarf\u00a0toss: \u201cI have to admit I felt pretty strange. I\u2019m talking to a person I\u2019m about to throw, and he had a great wit about him and was jovial about the whole thing. It was awkward.” He paused again. \u201cI actually apologized to him.\u201d<\/p>\n

Today, when Wickert wants to engage in a sport, he rides his bike, quietly affirming the hopeful axiom that moving our bodies through space has just as deep a legacy as using sentient creatures as projectiles and targets. Plus, it\u2019s just a nicer way to have fun.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

James McWilliams is a writer living in Austin, Texas.<\/em><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

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