How do vegetarians not, like, die?

No one really wants to slaughter a fuzzy, little lamb, regardless of how good it tastes (allegedly—I refuse to eat cute and/or baby animals), save the psychopaths and artists, who are probably also psychopaths, making a statement about the destruction of innocence. If we could get bacon, with the grease and the fat and the crispy flesh, without killing anything, I’m sure more people would elect to partake in the trendy vegetarian movement.

Unfortunately, it’s much more satisfying to order a hamburger than a garden burger. No matter how many modifications geneticists make to the structure of soy beans, vegetarian food tastes like leaves.

As a species that uses (and has used, for all of its existence) meat to bribe fertile women to hop in bed with fertile men (because, if he can get meat, he can feed babies), switching to an herbivorous diet is risky on multiple levels.

It’s also kind of masochistic and self-depriving. Meat is, like, good.

The decision must offer some benefits, though,  or no one would make it. Or they’d at least never be able to seduce lusty women. Maybe we view vegetarians as kind-hearted and loyal (except for those pescetarians who are basically cheaters). Maybe vegetarians have better smelling breath.

Mainly, they’re hip and more likely to have hip friends. It’s a social-climbing thing.

Published at See Gauge Blog on December 7, 2012.

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