There are plenty of meat-like alternatives on the market that look and taste like the real thing. Fundamentally, what I would like to know is why a sane person would think it is normal to eat dead flesh. There is no moral objection to eating a dead person either, but you would have to wonder about the mental health of a man who would.
I’m fine living with my predatory appetite. There is no guilt about the actual act of consuming another living thing. The only guilt is about how an animal lives and dies. It is no hardship for me. My conscience is clean.
I don’t just eat meat for the taste. Not because medium-rare, juicy steak I consider to be the best tasting edible thing I have ever tasted. I don’t eat it just because of its nutritional value. I eat a balanced diet, but I’m not a calorie counter. I also eat it because I crave it. I have an appetite for it. I like the idea of consuming flesh. Consuming life makes me feel
stronger - better, faster, more alert, more in tune with the universe, more
alive. It’s a natural pattern. It is symbolic of a primal instinctual ritual - the struggle of life, the romance of the hunt. If there were beasts roaming the concrete jungle of Manchester, I’d hunt them myself.
The same when I crunch on a cool, crisp, fresh lettuce leaf. I’m still devouring life so that I can live - not just survive, but truly
live. I’m tasting what the earth offers me. I’m exploring the universe fully with one of my senses.
You understand why these idiot bovine cattle are in the position they are in, yes? Previous, stronger generations of mankind have worked to get us to this point. They have struggled to raise humanity aloft and passed the torch on. The farm is a replacement for a dangerous or unsuccessful hunt. It is the payoff without the work. The farm animal’s predicament illustrates mankind’s level of mastery over the elements, over this world. What greater image to show mankind’s complete domination over a species. Complete, total, unarguable domination.
This doesn’t make animals any less beautiful in my eyes. No less to be cherished and loved, to be treated kindly and with respect. The foundation of this is love. But I love all parts of them, not just a “cute baby pig face”. I love the genius of a parasite, the sheer unconscious audacity of a living creature to bore into the eye of a greater host and eat it from the inside. Into its eye. Could you think up such a thing? Could a sadist invent a concept so pure and void of any discernable good or ill morality, without self-serving pleasure, without mindful intent - just sheer purpose and survival? It’s a beautiful thing.
Social conditioning. That's all.
Nonsense. I am an
animal.