Defending Omnivorism

I have a problem with vegetarianism. It's not that I'm unsympathetic to vegetarians. Au contraire! It's that they're unsympathetic to me.

I'm not compelled to hurl moral sanctimony and fury at those who would have me eat tofu rather than swine flesh. I'll never march in front of a chic vegetarian cafe carrying a sign that hollers "Save The Pig Farmers: Eat Ribs!" In fact, you may even find me dining within that very same establishment. I'd start with a nice Andalusian Gazpacho, add a light Canary Island Summer Salad, then move on to the Roasted Ratatouille with Basil Aioli before finishing with a delicate soymilk flan. Delicious! I think vegetarians are generally wonderful, sensitive people. I even respect their moral commitment to abstain from eating meat, fish, dairy, and so on. Why, my very own still beloved former spouse was a diligent vegetarian for the better part of 10 years!

No, I do not seek converts. Nor do I cast aspersions upon the cuisine of those who would be ruminants. It's simply this: I love my little place here in the food chain, and I'm not inclined to deviate from what seems to be a very popular plan of nature (vegetarians who own cats know what I'm talking about). When it's time to eat, rather than define the parameters of my fare by what I cannot eat, as do vegetarians, I let the animal inside me choose what is good. Chicken is good. Fried, broiled, roasted and grilled. Steak is good. Seared, bbq'd, broiled and flambeed. Pork is succulent as roasts and ribs, cooked underground on coals at a luau or stir-fried with mushrooms and scallions and water chestnuts. Lobster, shrimp, oysters -- delectable! Turkey smoked, roasted, and tetrazzinized! Christmas goose and Duck a'la Orange! Wild game makes me wild! Venison, rabbit and moose, oh my!

Please, dear friend, forgive me my excesses, as I forgive the excesses of those who trespass against meat merchants. It's just that there is a fundamental part of me that believes I am of the animals, not above the animals. Several million years' worth of my ancestors have eaten meat and fish and eggs and milk. I have incisors and canine teeth for tearing meat, a belly that digests it and makes me strong. My very salivary glands go into overdrive at the sight of roasting fowl or a large cut of beef. To ignore this essential nature of my appetite would be a denial of the most grievous kind. I am a human being. I am made to eat meat.

Perhaps I'm a fool to believe that I am just one of earth's creatures. Perhaps I should take a lesson from my earnest friends who see my role as shepherd and overseer of the earth. Perhaps. But if I am a fool, I'm in very good company. Whales and dolphins and baby seals eat copious amounts of seafood. Spotted owls and bald eagles feed on small warm-blooded animals. Everywhere in glorious nature, of which I am a living part, we see hunters and prey, and the prey of prey, and so on. How fortunate we are, as omnivores, to choose from so wide a menu! I begrudge no one their pursuit of physical and moral purity via the exclusive ingestion of vegetable matter. And I thank those folks, in advance, for not begrudging me the opportunity to slink back into my cave and gnaw on a tasty rib.

Gerald Michael Rolfe
http://actualthought.blogspot.com