From frank Wed Feb 12 23:05:52 1992 Received: by mail.cis.ohio-state.edu (5.61-kk/5.911008) id AA12965; Wed, 12 Feb 92 23:05:45 -0500 Date: Wed, 12 Feb 92 23:05:45 -0500 From: Frank Adelstein Message-Id: <9202130405.AA12965@mail.cis.ohio-state.edu> To: camilo@cis.ohio-state.edu, fine@cis.ohio-state.edu, grichard@cis.ohio-state.edu, jrm@cis.ohio-state.edu, susskind@cis.ohio-state.edu, terri@cis.ohio-state.edu Subject: Re: Reasons to become a vegetarian: #106 Cc: frank@cis.ohio-state.edu Status: RO I can not remain silent about this any more. Well, just this weekend I made a salad. I took the fresh vegetables from their bin. It was an overcrowded, filthy bin, where they had been kept for long periods of time, with no exposure to sunlight, in cramped conditions. But I suppose that is to be expected, since why waste precious space on something that is designated as just food. I mean they didn't even have room to turn around...not that they'd have the strength anyway, what with all the chemicals and fertilizers and such that they're given to insure that they will pass the heath inspections. Well anyway, they were too tired and weak to really do much other than make a token effort to roll away. And I took them, one by one and, well, you'll have to excuse me for being graphic, but it's a situation that we just can't ignore any longer. Some of them I skinned, some I cut into many small pieces, and some of them I just split into halves or thirds and threw right in the bowl. There were pieces of their remains (things I didn't deem worthy to include in a salad) strewn all over the kitchen. The liquid and particulate innards of a tomato lay drying on my cutting board, staining it a dull red. And then there was the lettuce. I had rinsed it in water. Ostensibly to get the dirt off of it (and I won't get into how the dirt comes to getting on it, suffice to say that its living conditions force it to look to the ground to derive its nutrients), but it's generally known that the cold water slows it down, so that it won't struggle as much during the next phase, possibly injuring the parts of it that we prize for food. Well, I let it dry a little and then...with my bare hands, I ripped it...oh god...I ripped it into small shreds...bite sized pieces. I could feel the spine of the leaves snap in my hands. But with the efficiency of a seasoned employee of one of the Chicago abattoirs of the 20s, I didn't even think about what I was doing and just kept throwing the pieces in the bowl. And then, as if to add insult to this vast indignity I was committing to our cousins from another kingdom, I threw some spices on it. Spices...the name hides the horror...for it was nothing more than the dried, ground remains of other plants. I don't know if the irony struck them, like it does me. If it weren't so nauseating I would be tempted to laugh. Most cultures have some respect for the bodies of the dead. We do have our taboos, but once again, we use words to hide the true meaning. I "tossed" the salad, then "dressed" it, and then ate it. Even the barbarians we mock as being primitive cook their food, but no...I ate it raw, not even dignifying the meal with a few words for the fallen ones that literally made the meal a reality. And though the meal has long since passed (in more than one sense), the one thing that will stay with me is the sound of the screams of the vegetables, as they were being mercilessly slaughtered. It is a bone chilling scream of pure terror that touches the very essence of your being. There is no doubt in my mind that they know exactly what is happening. And that is what makes it all worth it. And that, my friends, is why I do, on occasion, eat non-meat products. --Frank. p.s. next weeks episode: "Eating Mushrooms, or Thumbing Your Nose at the Food Chain."