A narcissistic entrepreneur named Georgia Pellegrini is making a name for herself by offering well-heeled women a chance to get to know their inner evildoers at swanky terrorist training camps.
Jeff Gordinier put it this way in a piece published in The New York Times Magazine: “Almost a decade ago, Pellegrini, 32, ditched her first career, as an investment banker, to become a chef, which led to her becoming a hunter, which led to a book deal, which led to her being on a dusty ranch in Montana on a blue-skied September morning teaching a group of women how to fire a shotgun.”
Put another way, Pellegrini provides clients with the tools and encouragement to kill — and with the permission to exercise the savagery they normally keep hidden beneath the monogrammed guise of refinement.
Gordinier characterizes Pellegrini as an “empowerment guru,” and writes: “In 2012’s Girl Hunter, a memoir … laced with recipes for dishes like elk jerky, squirrel dumplings and balsamic deer heart, she focuses largely on the transformative power of hunting, gutting and eating wild animals.”
And describing a recent “Girl Hunter Adventure Getaway” at the Montana Sporting Club, in Belt, Montana, Gordinier suggests that “a casual observer could be excused for wondering if the whole weekend has been staged as a pilot episode of Real Housewives of the Wild West.”
Pellegrini has come up with a profitable response to the question: What can one give the educated, successful, modern woman who seemingly has everything? The answer: a trip to the killing floor, which, for paying customers, features all the comforts of high society.
For the murderesses who make up Pellegrini’s sadistic clientele, the killing floor might as well be walled with mirrors. After all, it’s all about them. What they get out of the experience is an introduction to their own bloodthirst. What the privileged thugs’ victims get, on the other hand, are gunshot wounds and knives across their throats.
Pellegrini’s clients pay big bucks to kill in luxurious conditions. According to her website, participation in a Bloodbath at Belt (my words) costs each aspiring barbarian more than $2,000. Obviously, to them, the lives of the animals they set out to kill aren’t worth a goddamned thing.
On her website, Pellegrini tells visitors: “I hunt and gather myself, and hone my pioneer skills.”
In other words, I’m every bit the Neanderthal that an equally bloodlust-full man is.
While we often think of hunters as sadistic, knuckle-dragging men roaming the woods with lead-filled phalluses, Pellegrini is cultivating fiends among the fairer sex.
Offering “empowerment” at other species’ expense doesn’t make Pellegrini a “guru,” as Gordinier suggests. It makes her a soulless asshole.