I intend to write a short post today. I'm writing now, before I start my weekend chores, because if I wait too long I might forget and ruin the whole NaBloPoMo thing, and because I've noticed from monitoring my pageviews that no one really reads blogs that much on the weekend. Even though that's when I have the most time to write something lengthy (and that tends to be when I catch up on blogs), it's when people have better things to do. In fact, so do I. Now that school is really over for the summer (coinciding with back-to-school sales and everyone everywhere except Portland writing about how "summer is over") I have hikes to take and bread to bake and piles of junk to unmake. (Those first two rhymes were unintentional, but then when I noticed they rhymed, I thought, "instead of 'crap to unpack,' why not keep the whimsy going?"
I intended to just tell you, sticking with the fiction theme of NaBloPoMo for this month, about the book I finished reading on the bus yesterday. But I got some comments on yesterday's post, and I want to address those, too. And talk more about the last book I read. (Which was actually nonfiction.)
One friend commented that she is eating more vegetarian lately, which I did not know. She wrote, "I think I worry most about my meal living a miserable life; I'd almost be happier eating an animal that enjoyed its life!" The "almost" is what got me thinking. Most people don't say that; most people just preach about the wonders of eating happy animals. Which brings up question that not many people ask. Except maybe my mother, who won't buy meat at the farmers' market because they always include photographs of the happy little cute piglets and how can you buy bacon when you are looking that cute little piglet in the face!? Pine Mountain Ranch does not do any such thing. It's just coolers and text. GOOD.
That question is, "If the animal is so happy, why is it humane to slaughter and eat it?" Why not just leave it alone?
It's worth interjecting right here that there is no cruelty-free way to eat and therefore, live. Even if you are vegan. Lots of living things die in the production of your plant-based diet; even organic isn't pesticide/killing free. (Which is why I think the no honey rule of being vegan is kind of BS. JUST THE HONEY PART. Not all vegan things.)
Oops. It's time for me to clean the kitchen now. I guess I'll finish this thought tomorrow. Now I know what I'm going to write about tomorrow! So I'll end on that contentious note in which I might piss off the vegans who probably aren't reading my blog on a Saturday anyway, and tomorrow I'll pick up on the cruelty-free eating/meat topic and also respond to another comment. And also tell you about the latest book I read, In Watermelon Sugar by Richard Brautigan, which I finished on the TriMet bus yesterday.
I also want to tell you that I had a bad dream last night that instead of merely writing about my experience cooking yak testicles, I also wrote a lot about human testicles, including lots of over-the-top crude humor and maybe some personal details, and it was only after some family members read it that I realized my horrible mistake. I woke up with a slight feeling of dread, and when I read your comments, Meg and Ellen, and realized I'd only written about yaks, I was quite relieved.