Ten Reasons to go vegetarian:
1. To boost your anti-corporate activist cred.
2. To protest in the nude for PETA someday.
3. You’re a cheapass mofo.
4. To pick up on bepierced and tattooed babes/dudes at the vegan grill.
5. To help meatpackers survive through unemployment.
6. What Would Buddha Do?
7. To save the planet by reducing bovine flatulence.
8. To be contrarian.
9. To fit into those skinny jeans all the emo kids wear.
10. You’re just not into lagoons of pigshit.
11. You have romantic notions of cattle frolicking through the fields.
12. All the cool kids are doing it, c’mon!
Okay, so that was twelve. Feel free to add a few of your own.
After a week of being in vegetarian mode, I see no reason to stop. I only had one slip up last week, which I realized in the middle of sharing a delicious curry chicken salad sandwich with Isaac. Call me vegetarian if you want. It will be my primary consideration in my choice of eats.
Only I’m not going to be a dogmatic vegetarian. I’m going to allow myself a once a week meat binge if I so desire, and let me tell you why. I’m turned off by the aspects of vegetarianism and veganism that resemble institutional religion, and I’ve had some bad, bad experiences with God. Proselytize some anti-animal dogma, and I’ll be eating some Hawaiian BBQ before you can say “Spam Musubi.” Don’t argue, it’s not a rational thing.
Thankfully, most of my vegetarian friends give me the low pressure sale, preaching more through example than through word. And for me, my approach to eating is indeed dictated in large part by the social factors. Several of the people I care the most about, including CatGirl, are strict vegetarians. On the flip side, some of my closest friends are avid meat eaters, and some of our cherished moments focus on communally feasting upon prepared flesh. I’m loathe to give up this connection. So my proposal is to shift from my ungoverned eating of meat and unmeat to giving myself a once per week social allowance, so that Isaac and I can relish our genuine Jewish deli Reubens, or the Motikas and Alana and I can enjoy our ritual platter of Korean barbeque *together*, which is the key term. It’s the commensal aspects of dining that I am most loathe to give up. Hell, an entire religion was founded on commensality and on dining together on the Founder’s flesh.
Also, my head and hands are kind of heavier than usual tonight. Thankfully, the majority of alcoholic beverages require no animal involvement…