I like to think that I have a sense of humor, but there’s one thing that’s off-limits and never funny, and that’s the ritual enslavement, torture, abuse, humiliation, murder, and oral consumption of animal flesh in not only the United States, but also the world, and quite possibly very many points beyond.
So naturally, of course, it goes without saying, not to mention, needless to say, I was very upset with this morning’s article about how sausages are cool and we should all eat sausages and how life is just one great big sausagefest.
Yeah, it’s all fun and games until they start cramming the screaming baby lambs into a wood chipper, isn’t it? Life’s just a fucking carnival, isn’t it?
It’s already a scientific fact as proven in this picture that meat is bad for you:
But see, that’s the problem. It’s both an informational problem and marketing problem, really. Who cares whether meat is good for you or not? In other words, what about the animals’ feelings?
I didn’t get too upset—although, if I may be candid, I was a little upset, because my life is an entire spectrum of being upset and there truly is no moment when I am not upset on at least some level, because if you aren’t upset, you aren’t listening—about the idea of “burying the bacon,” because that way we won’t have to bury so many innocent little piglets and their parents every year.
But before you guys stand around and “hoist your sausages,” do you even know what’s in those things? Should I tell you about the casing? It’s made from horse sphincters. And what they do they stuff inside the sausage? Why, nothing more than the shattered illusions and broken dreams of billions of innocent animals who would like nothing more than to eat grass and be left the fuck alone.
Is that too much to ask?
For a meat-eater, it is.
But we are the animals. And we are plentiful. And we do not forgive, nor do we forget. You have eaten too many of us. Vengeance will be ours. And you can take that to the bank.