Last Meal

This was the last meal. An In-N-Out cheeseburger (animal style), fries, and a Coke. I even put it on a plate to mark the occasion.

Somebody asked me why my friends and I were going vegan. Honestly, I'm still not quite sure. I mean, part of it is to be healthier. But there's really no overarching REASON for doing it. Other than the fact that we wondered if we could.

I respect people who are vegetarian for moral reasons. My father, incidentally, is a vegetarian. He's Hindu and that's the norm in India. The idea of eating meat is just distasteful and anathema in his worldview. Though I have seen him eat fish at Red Lobster with no problem whatsoever. Fish are fine.

Incidentally, out of all of the animals we kill as a society, fish have it the worst. They get pulled, BY A HOOK IN THEIR MOUTH, into a hostile environment until they drown. That's way worse than a cow getting a bolt gun to the head or a chicken getting its neck snapped.

No one gives a fuck about fish because they're not cute, unless they're animated and voiced by Ellen Degeneres. But I digress.

I've heard some vegetarians talk about how, after a certain period of time, the very idea of eating meat is disgusting to them. And I wonder, if I was vegetarian for long enough, would my worldview change? Would I become repulsed at the activity I so thoroughly enjoyed before?

Could I look at a delicious Double-Double and feel nothing but sorrow?

I'm curious to find out.

And here's a really funny bit from Louis CK to close out this entry: