Years ago I was a vegetarian, and a member of PETA. For three years I ate no meat, and supplemented my diet in numerous ways, as many vegans do, in order to spare the poor creatures from the slaughter.
Well, needless to say, I got over it. Gimme a good steak and some A1 and I’m ready to go. Oh, I still enjoy a good pita with horseradish cheddar, hummus, sprouts, lettuce, mustard, peppers (making myself hungry here). In fact, perhaps the best thing about being a vegetarian was the forced exposure to varied cuisines, and my acquisition of some *ahem* refined tastes. As a result I currently eat a varied diet of fresh foods from all groups and mainly try to stay away from preservatives as much as sanely possible. And I do shy away from the fast food. The only time Norm & I eat out is for Chinese food every couple of weeks, and most of what I eat there is veggies and chicken. But overall we eat very healthily by any standard.
I give you this background so that you won’t think I’m an uninformed jackass when I say this: some of you people have got to get a GRIP. It’s bad enough that we have pet food imported from China that kills our pets (not mine, thankfully, but still . . .). It’s offensive that transportation costs have driven up my grocery bill by 35% in the past 6 months. It’s downright scary that we have to worry about “mad cow” and “avian flu” and tainted peanut butter and bad canned stew, etc, etc.
But today I saw this ad on Alternet:
This a beyond zealous. It’s downright cuckoo. What’s next? McDonald’s having to pipe soothing music into their soybean fields so the beans don’t get depressed? Don’t get me wrong, I’m all against animal cruelty, but these are birds we’re talking about. With a brain the size of a pea. I just can’t bring myself to feel badly if they are in cramped quarters. If they don’t like it, fry ’em up and see how they like that.
Seems like I’ve come a long way from animal rights activist, eh? That’s because I have. I love animals, as Norm can certainly tell you (and he’d not be with me if I didn’t). But I’ve learned that if I’m going to get worked up over creatures being confined to cramped quarters, I’m going to worry about humans first. Like the children huddled over looms in India, forced to work to pay off their families loans.
When we start treating all people like people, then I’ll feel bad for the chickens.