Everyone loves antlers

Brooklyn loves antlers. They’re kind of mysterious, like they might have come from another time and place. The kind of place that is still into weird traditions and might attach some value to antlers. They also have a lot of texture, and seem like they might be interesting to touch. They’re also a bit edgy because they’re totally dead. Brooklyn loves antlers so much that it named a band after them.

Idaho loves antlers too. In fact, a lot of the antlers that decorate Brooklyn bars and vintage stores might have come from Idaho. It’s a connection that would probably embarrass both parties. Idaho probably isn’t the mysterious place that Brooklyn is thinking of when it is looking at a pair of antlers; that place is more like seventeenth century Salem crossed with some kind of other place that has shamans and medicine men and interesting knitwear.

Antlers aren’t mysterious when they’re in Idaho though; they tell a very distinct story. Those antlers were once attached to a specific animal, that was shot by a specific person. This happened in a specific place on a specific day with specific weather. There was a specific strategy to shooting this animal. The person then had to carry the animal – either whole or in pieces – back to his truck. Later he had to separate the antlers from the rest of the animal, or if they’re still attached to the head, he had to separate the head from the rest of the animal. He probably also cut up the rest of the animal, because while the antlers are cool, chances are he also intended to eat a fair amount of the animal.

Food in Brooklyn doesn’t have this kind of story. Instead it has adjectives, like grass-fed and organic and cage-free and free-range and heritage and heirloom and humane. These adjectives are kind of like codes that no one can really read. They sound cool, but they don’t exactly tell a story.

Stories aren’t so mysterious though, especially when they involve rifles and bonesaws. Sometimes they’re a bit too visceral. The antlers in Brooklyn don’t have any fur on them usually. Someone else stripped and boiled away all the decaying organic matter to reveal the lovely texture beneath. Then they sold the antlers. Antlers in Brooklyn come from antique stores or markets, not from animals in the forest. But that doesn’t mean Brooklyn doesn’t love them.

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