Lambs Are Not Food

There, I said it. Ah, the sweet relief to finally be blogging about something that some people may disagree with. But I just couldn’t keep it in any longer. Seriously, there would have been a nosebleed or something soon.

I went vegetarian sixteen years ago. And, goodness, I’m not dead yet! So I guess that debunks the whole “you need meat to survive” theory. That is utter nonsense. You don’t need meat to survive (duh!). You need food to survive. I have not been living on wild berries and mud for the last sixteen years. I’ve been eating solid food, just like a real life, normal person!

Today’s fashions and attitudes are, in the main, overwhelmingly against animal rights activists. Every time animal rights comes up on a TV series, I groan inwardly because I know the one-sidedly negative portrayal that’s surely coming. Quite frankly, I find this offensive. It’s like portraying any Muslim character as a religious fanatic. This sort of stereotyping is simplistic, insulting and - let’s face it - blatant prejudice in a particularly insidious and ugly form. Grey’s Anatomy is the first show I’ve seen in a very long time to portray the animal rights issue intelligently. They were on dodgy ground for me with the pigs at the start, but they redeemed themselves with Izzy’s speech at the end (go Izzy!). They handled the subject sensitively, and they showed both sides of the argument (and clearly there are two sides to this thing).

But, usually, animal rights activists on TV shows are always portrayed the same way - basically, as mad terrorists. For the record, I would like to say that we are not all mad terrorists. I’ve been a staunch proponent of animal rights all my life and I have never yet blown anyone up. I have never vandalised property, or committed arson or armed robbery, or whatever else it is that people think all animal rights activists do. I have given out leaflets on occasion, and now I am clearly ranting (or lecturing people, as the critics would say) here on my blog. But that is the extent of it. I’ve never even thrown a brick through someone’s window. Indeed, I like to think of myself as a fairly balanced, sane sort of person. I favour peaceful re-education as a method of change because I believe - or at least try to - that many people hurt animals unwittingly. That they are simply not aware of the suffering an animal goes through before it ends up a sausage on their plate, or before that animal-tested shampoo ends up in their basket. I’d like to think that if people were better informed about the issues, then cruelty to animals would not be so disgracefully deep-rooted and widespread. The car bombing activists are the ones who give the rest of us a bad name. They harm the cause far more than they help it. But they are only a very small percentage - a definite minority. Most of us do not have bombs in our pockets - honest.

If animal rights activists aren’t portrayed as terrorists then we’re usually portrayed as wimpy, wet do-gooders. It’s interesting to note that abolitionists in the nineteenth century faced similar charges from slave owners. Fortunately, that didn’t stop them from opposing slavery. The problem is that genuine compassion just ain’t cool, whereas an affected disinterest very often is. Fortunately, I have never been very cool. Indeed, I was hopelessly uncool and unpopular at school. But if being cool means that you can’t care about the welfare of animals, then it suits me just fine to remain this way. Personally, though, I believe that you can be an animal rights activist, and, like Izzy Stevens, still be an intelligent, balanced, peaceful, beautiful person. You can, in short, be very cool indeed.

With the exception of my grandmother (who is a wizard cook, by the way), no one else in my family is a vegetarian. Practically all of my loved ones are, therefore, meat eaters. I am in the minority in my views at home, as well as in general life. I accept that other people eat meat. I do not generally run amok at family gatherings seething with outrage about the dead animals that everyone else is consuming (although I admit I’m not above the odd cutting remark if provoked). People differ in what they believe to be ethical, and I try hard to respect that. What I cannot condone, however, and have no patience for, is when meat eaters refuse to minimise suffering where they can. This means that they should always - but always - buy organic meat, and free range eggs. I do not believe there can be any justification whatsoever for buying battery eggs and meat. I wish the supermarkets would refuse to stock these things altogether. I also do not believe that people should eat babies. Even during the brief period that I was a meat eater, I was horrified and appalled by the very idea of eating lamb. For anyone who is unaware of what a living lamb looks like, here is a picture:

Lamb still very much alive - for now.

Er . . . am I missing something here? I mean, honestly, could you cut this lamb’s throat? Blood gushing out everywhere, all over the straw etc? If the answer is no then, I’m sorry, but you have no business eating lamb. These are babies that have not even had the chance to live. So I repeat what I said before - if you really must eat meat, then it ought to be free range and organic.

But, please, whatever else you do, don’t eat the lambs.

(For anyone who’s interested, there’s more info at http://www.savethesheep.com, although this deals more with the horrors of mulesing and the wool industry.)

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Hot Wasabi Peas!

Hot Wasabi Peas

I know, I know - they sound disgusting. Like their tagline should be something along the lines of:

Hot Wasabi Peas - They make you sick like nothing else can!

But they are, in fact, completely delicious. They’re a Japanese snack but I first came across them in America. They’re another Sam-I-Am, actually, because my Dad found them, and when he produced them from out of his bag, I screwed my nose up like everyone else. I mean they’re crunchy, hot peas, right? That’s just plain wrong.

‘Just try one, Al,’ Dad said. ‘You might like it.’

Well, when Dad says that, I almost always do like it. So I tentatively put this shrivelled up pea in my mouth and . . . it was one of the most delicious things I have ever tasted. Hard to believe, I know. Not only that, but they are unbelievably addictive. It’s quite impossible to eat just one pea. Quite, quite impossible. Even better, they’re very low in calories. It works out as something silly, like half a calorie per pea. I mean you could stuff your face with them from morning till night, and not get fat!

The only problem was that we brought just two pots back with us from America. Since then I’ve been trying not to eat too many of them because all my family like them, so it’s not fair to scoff the lot all by myself. Mostly this has just resulted in me lying awake at night thinking and thinking about the peas in the cupboard downstairs until, finally, I just can’t take it any more, and I sneak down there and start guzzling them like there’s no tomorrow. I’ve been feeling quite guilty about this as the peas are almost all gone now so I Googled them yesterday and, to my delight, found that you can order them online. I promptly did so.

So - now that a great big stash of Wasabi Peas are on their way, I finally feel free to confess: yes, it was me. I did it. I ate all the peas.

Hot Wasabi Peas - They Don’t Make You Sick!

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Hallelujiah!

When I was six years old (or thereabouts) I was running back to the cheese counter in Tescos because I heard someone say that they had taster plates back there with pieces of stilton on them (yeah, I really love stilton). Anyways, going round the corner of the aisle I somehow slipped over on the floor and fell on my face, whereupon I started sobbing pathetically.

Since that day I haven’t cried in Tescos, but I came pretty close yesterday when I was strolling down the aisles and saw this:

Quorn Picnic Eggs

I know, I know - it probably doesn’t seem like a big deal. But imagine a vegetarian who loves meat, and to whom picnic eggs were once a particular favourite. Imagine that vegetarian hasn’t eaten a picnic egg for fifteen long, desolate, miserable years and then suddenly, without any warning whatsoever, comes across this vision of delight just sat right there on the shelf!

Needless to say, I bought a packet (all right, all right, I bought every packet they had - like I was preparing for the blitz or something), and then I went home and had myself a picnic egg party with the only guest being me because I sure as hell wasn’t sharing.

I didn’t make too much of a spectacle of myself with the picnic eggs but the day I see vegetarian mussels, or vegetarian crab sticks, on the shelf in Tescos I know that I will break down and weep tears of joy right there in the aisle like a crazy person. Ditto for the day Proctor and Gamble stop being animal-testing bastards and I can buy Pringles once again. God, I really hate having ethics sometimes . . .

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