What is it about the question of animal suffering that makes ordinarily reasonable people fly off the handle? This always surprises me.
If you express concern for the veal calf, huddled in a tiny cage for its entire life prior to being brutally butchered, then you must be one of those ridiculous fanatics.
Have qualms about some little delicacy like foie gras, obtained by forcing a metal pipe down the duck’s throat and pumping in pounds of food until their liver is grotesquely enlarged, and that makes you petty, trifling, sentimental, and why don’t you have your mind on other things?
But maybe it’s time we examine the huffy impatience some bring to the questions of animal welfare and call things what they really are:
When a man’s love of finery clouds his moral judgement, that is vanity. When he lets a demanding palate make his moral choices, that is gluttony. When he ascribes the divine will to his own whims, that is pride. And when he gets angry at being reminded of animal suffering that his own daily choices might help avoid, that is moral cowardice.
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Breakfast: Vegan breakfast wrap with tofu scramble, fake bacon, and soy cheese in a tortilla
Lunch: Bean & Guacamole burrito (that’s a bean & cheese burrito, sub guac for cheese) from Baja Fresh
Dinner: Pancakes
