Have we no conscience? Are we not the least bit disturbed by the knowledge that we must inflict pain on these life forms just to fulfill their destiny as food for human consumption? We are supposedly the most civilized nation on earth. We are an intelligent, resourceful people, and yet we revel daily about the delights of eating these living things. “It’s good for you,” we are told by industry associations and trade journal hacks who tout the benefits.
I am sickened by it all. We should not be slaughtering them, we should be protecting them. They are living, breathing creations, so we should strive to nurture our understanding of them, and them of us.
I will admit that I, myself, have occasionally partaken of several of these species in various meal situations, but I’m not proud of it. And every time I do it, I end up feeling so dirty that all I want to do is take a shower.
But do you know what the worst part is? It is that proponents want us to eat these living things at least five times a day or more, as if once isn’t enough! Well, not me. That’s it, end of story. From now on, there’ll be no more of this food on my plate – I refuse to participate in any venue that permits this sort of pain and suffering.
But frankly speaking, I don’t know how you vegetarians can live with yourselves. You would think the recent research revelation from Arizona State University and USDA scientists – that plants suffer injury and feel pain and distress – would cause you to reconsider your barbaric eating habits. If this eye-opening research, which was reported in the Journal of Biological Chemistry, doesn’t rattle your cage, then I suspect nothing will. But at least I won’t be among you, to feel the guilt for the slaughter of life that you are perpetuating with your insatiable quest for long life.
To prove that my conversion is complete, I now have a pet lettuce named Carl. We go everywhere together. I carry Carl around because he doesn’t weigh much (and because he looks stupid on a leash). Best of all, Carl is totally relaxed these days, confident in the knowledge that he will not end up in a Caesar salad or under meat, cheese and mayonnaise between two slices of wheat bread.
But of course, I now have a more pressing problem to think about. I obviously can’t eat meat for the same reason that I can’t eat Carl and other vegetables like him. And this means that I am going to die – very soon. I told my wife that when I do, I want this written on my tombstone:
Here lies Bob who did what was right He stopped eating meat and got weak overnight. He refused to eat veggies, they’re alive, he said, So his health went south and he ended up dead. Some might say that Bob was a dummy, But at least he died without meat in his rummy. Or vegetables…the eating of which he considered a sin, But not killing them ended up killing him.