Snarky Disclaimer:

 This rant contains foul language, biting satire, and a deep, unflinching look at what happens when bureaucrats play bovine roulette and call it “science.” Viewer discretion is advised. Especially if you're a cow.

You know what’s fun? Knowing your tax dollars are hard at work… paying for flies to have sex.

No, really. The USDA has decided that the best way to protect American livestock from a flesh-eating parasite is to breed millions of sterile flies and drop them all over Mexico. Not even in the U.S. where the cows are! Oh no—let’s just hope the Mexican cattle come back clean, kiss us on both cheeks, and don’t bring a single larva with them. This is a plan cooked up by people who think a condom on a mosquito is birth control.

Let me explain this slow, so the USDA can keep up: screwworms EAT LIVING FLESH. They crawl into open wounds, set up camp like it’s goddamn Burning Man, and start gnawing through muscle like they’re auditioning for The Texas Chain Cattle Massacre.

But sure, let’s lift the ban! Let's reopen the border to cattle from the exact region where these parasites are making a comeback. You want to know how they’re preventing an outbreak? A guy in Arizona is counting flies. That’s it. And if he sneezes or blinks too hard, boom—your ranch turns into an open buffet for maggots.

Now they’re saying, “Oh but we’ll do it phased, with geographic controls.” Yeah, because parasites definitely respect maps. “Ooh, boys, don’t fly over that river, that’s where the Americans live!”

And let’s not forget the tariffs! Oh yeah, these cattle are still getting hit with import duties. So even if you believe this cockamamie “cheaper beef” bullshit, it’s dead on arrival. You’re not getting a break at the butcher—you're getting filet-mugged. They’re squeezing you on both ends: high risk, high price, and a side order of government-funded fly orgies.

Meanwhile, American ranchers? Oh, they're getting it raw. Their herds are clean, their regulations are tight, and now they’ve got to compete with the Maybe Cursed Bovine Caravan rolling in from the south, loaded with uncertainty and larvae like some twisted Kinder Egg from hell.

But you see, this isn’t about economics. It’s about optics. “Look how proactive we are! Look how sciencey!” They want to slap a Band-Aid on a hemorrhage and call it medical innovation. You wouldn’t fix a gunshot wound with glitter glue—but hey, if it keeps beef on the ballot and flies off the radar, they’ll run with it.

And don’t even get me started on the fact that we cut the National Park budget while increasing funding for fly romance. We’re shutting down ranger stations, but we’ve got the Fly Love Motel running 24/7 on the taxpayers’ dime. I hope the flies at least send us a thank-you note after they dry hump their way to extinction.

Here’s what’s gonna happen. One asymptomatic cow slips through—just one. She’s infected. The screwworms get in. They start chewing through livestock, pets, maybe even people, and suddenly it’s not an economic plan anymore. It’s a goddamn Stephen King reboot starring USDA and a horny fly army. And guess what? You paid for it.

So yeah. Next time you bite into a burger and wonder why it tastes like bureaucratic disaster and regret? Remember this moment. Flies. Beef. Lies. And a government that decided to gamble your food supply on the insect version of abstinence education.

Moo.