Monday, June 27, 2011

And I Wouldn't Care if you Died, Right Before My Eyes.

The other day i volunteered to work the BBQ for the Melbourne Roobaix. At first i was cooking the vegan sausages, but they didn't prove that popular, so after an hour or so I was manning chicken and beef.

During the two of three hours i was doing this, I had a good time to think stuff over. Up until a year ago, sausages were a particular favourite of mine. I was one of those people who would go to Bunnings just for the sausage sizzle, then make up a reason for why i needed a hatchet, or a can for two stroke, or a bunch of herbs.

But here I was turning these things over and over, as they bubbled and sizzled, and smelled delicious. I got thinking. And as i did, I had a bit of a realisation, or some degree of epiphany. We, as a society, kill other living creatures (usually in a pretty horrible way), mince them up, then put them in a cylinder, cook them, then eat them.

Sure, you say. Of course you do. But have we actually thought about it? Slaughtering animals that can manage tasks that some small humans find tricky?

I'm grappling with this idea without, firstly, sounding like a naive city kid and, secondly, sounding like a bleeding heart hippy. I may be the former, but I'll be damned if i admit to being the latter. While I have been going through the motions of being a vegan, I have pretty successfully avoided coming into contact with meat for a good few months. Standing there at the BBQ, as everyone munched away (and while Sean the Man declared the vegan sausages 'definitely for faggots') I suddenly realised where the real struggle was. And judging by the crowds yesterday, and the general contempt for the herbivores and their options, we still have a way to go.

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