Archive for the ‘Uncategorized’ Category
Like most people who vow to lose weight, Becca Reed?—?51, diabetic, confined to a wheelchair, taking nearly a dozen medications?—?had precise goals. Unlike most people, she’s willing to share them. On a piece of crinkled notebook paper she wrote in bubbly cursive script what she hoped her future would be like:
- Reach 225 pounds or less.
- Feel sexy and buy an outfit at a regular store.
- Have James look at me with that sparkle in his eye.
- Feel better able to clean the house.
- Walk five minutes straight.
- Bench press 100 pounds or more.
- Back fat and fat above butt—get rid of it.
- Strengthen arms?—?flabby upper part.
- Get off medication!
- Ride horses on Padre Beach with James.
- Be able to stand long enough to sing more than one song.
James Reed, Becca’s husband, is a baby-faced 57 who suffers from his own obesity-related problems, namely his high blood pressure, which was 250/190 before he was finally medicated for it. He, too, made a list of weight-loss goals and agreed to share it:
- Get below 250 pounds.
- Feel better about myself.
- Bench 400 pounds.
- Leg press 600 pounds.
- No blood pressure meds.
- Weigh 210–215 pounds.
- Make it to retirement.
- Don’t become diabetic.
I recently sat down with Becca, James, and their 26-year old son Drew . . . . Read More
It probably wasn’t on your calendar. But between June 21 and June 30 the annual Lychee and Dog Meat Festival took place in Yulin, China. While declining in popularity, eating dog meat remains common enough throughout Asia. In the Shaanxi province, it’s more than common: It’s a delicacy considered central to the region’s culinary identity.
This dietary preference has spelled trouble for Asian canines. In years past, over 10,000 dogs? (some strays, some farmed, some possibly stolen from pet owners?) were slaughtered to sate the palates of festivalgoers eager to sample such fare as “crispy dog” and “dog hot pot.” The prevailing belief that the taste of dog meat improves when the animal is killed while in distress hasn’t helped the festival’s global appeal and, with reports of horrific slaughter accumulating, this year’s attendance numbers (as well as the number of dogs killed?) have dropped. Still, for the diehard aficionados of dog meat, the festival remains an annual rager to be defended at all costs, on grounds both culinary and cultural.
“If the Yulin dog meat festival weren’t real, philosophers would have dreamt it up,” says Bob Fischer, a Texas State philosopher and author of The Moral Complexities of Eating Meat. Indeed, dog meat presents conscientious Westerners with a perfect conundrum. It pits an enlightened expectation of cultural tolerance? (?live and let live!?) against our deep emotional attachment to dogs as companion animals?, ?an attachment that makes eating them seem, at the least, morally repugnant.
The fact that commercial airlines are preparing to use beef fat to help fuel aircraft is the kind of news that sends the eco-razzi into celebratory whirligigs.
It hardly matters that we’re looking at yet another meaningless example of “reduce, reuse, recycle” pomp to mask deeper problems that demand more systemic and radical solutions. It hardly matters that using beef fat (beef being one of the most ecologically damaging products on earth) to subsidize flying (flying being one of the most ecologically damaging services on earth) is like robbing Paul to pay Peter; at the end of the day it’s just another lovely, feel-good case of reducing waste, an act whose evidently inherent virtue makes the media go all loopy while obscuring the underlying, scolding question of why we rely so heavily on these goods and services (beef, flying) in the first place.
But that’s all high horse talk. Down in the streets vegans have a new and difficult question to ask themselves: will vegans fly in planes fueled by the animals we claim to do everything in our power not to exploit? I couldn’t help but notice an ominous dearth of commentary on this heavily covered media issue in the vegan blogosphere. Although I can certainly understand the reticence. The prospect of every major airline supplementing fossil fuel with beefy bio-diesel is a real one, and if that possibility comes to fruition, vegans face yet another case of a terribly convenient aspect of first-world life—flying—that, while hardly necessary to existence, is something we’ll most likely never give up. Vegans, in other words, will routinely participate in yet another activity that harms animals when, realistically albeit very inconveniently, they could avoid but won’t.
As a result, they will further gut the meaning of vegan from within.
In 2013-2014 I flew 35 times to locations where I preached (in part) the ecological virtues of not eating meat. Absurd, of course, that I was flying hither and yon to do this, but what if my mile-high experience had been powered by beef? Well, I’d have to be the first person to laugh my ass off at myself.
Readers, pipe up. What to do about beef-powered planes?
Matt Ball’s speech at the National Animal Rights conference:
Welcome and thanks for coming.
If I say anything that seems like a criticism or judgment, it isn’t meant that way. I’ve made many mistakes in my life – mistakes that have actively hurt our efforts on behalf of animals. We are all fortunate there has been so much research of late that can guide our efforts to help animals as much as possible.
From the look of things, you’d be correct in thinking that a revolution in food production was underway. Calls for local, sustainable, slow, humane, organic, non-genetically modified, fair-wage, “real” food are not only ubiquitous, they’ve inspired a farm-to-table movement that seeks to end industrialized agriculture, empower small farmers, and replace Walmart with farmers markets. Hundreds if not thousands of books, articles, foundations, academic conferences, and documentaries have joined the cause, rallying around the idea that industrial agriculture should—and can—and will be stopped.
These efforts have spawned a unique public discourse, one ubiquitously re-iterating the message that industrial agriculture wreaks ecological havoc, endangers human health, and exploits workers in order to produce food that’s overly processed, overly cheap, and overly globalized. Given the intensity of this culinary zeitgeist (not to mention the fact it gets very little critical inquiry from an adoring media), there’s every reason to think that food-reform-minded Americans, voting with their forks, are finally changing how Americans eat.
It is always difficult to get beyond the rhetoric and quantify such trends, but one metric seems safe to assume: If the movement were working, factory farms would be in decline. But, as a report just released by Food and Water Watch reveals, the exact opposite is happening. While muckrakers have been exposing every hint of corruption in corporate agriculture, and while reformers have been busy creating programs to combat industrial agriculture with localized, “real food” alternatives, factory farms have been proliferating like superweeds in a field of Monsanto corn.
Last February the Waste and Resources Action Program—a British anti-waste organization—reported that one-third of the food produced globally is never eaten. That’s roughly two billion metric tons of edible waste that ends up in landfills, where it emits about seven percent of the world’s total greenhouse gas emissions. Environmentalists have taken notice and the problem—food waste—is now a serious environmental concern. “If more and more people recognize their own food waste,” writes Jonathan Bloom, author of American Wasteland, “we can take a bite out of this problem.”
As Bloom suggests, reformers have largely placed responsibility for reducing food waste in the hands of consumers. More often than not we are rightfully admonished to eat the whole metaphorical hog as an act of ecological redemption.
“Leftovers can be turned into completely different meals,” writes one reader of Bloom’s blog, Wasted Food. “To better utilize food,” writes another, “use the whole animal” (the reader suggests bone broth). “STIR-FRY,” says a third, who claims to “live in a forest.” Throw in the prevailing advocacy for eating “ugly fruit” and the intrepid dumpster divers and you have a landscape of waste warriors crusading to achieve meaningful reform by piling our plates with food items we’d normally toss (or have already tossed).
The most conspicuous example of this eat-the-leftovers approach to reducing food waste recently came from celebrity chef Dan Barber. For a stretch of time in March, Barber cleared out his famous Blue Hill restaurant and replaced it with a “pop-up” creation—called WastED—that served food scraps salvaged from commercial kitchens. For $85 a meal, patrons could sample an array of dishes cooked with recycled culinary debris, including pickle butts, carrot tops, offal, and skate-wing cartilage. Exchanging spare ribs for kale ribs, diners were able to experience a culinary novelty while doing a good deed for the environment. It was the American way of reform epitomized: Fix the problem by buying something that makes you happy.
Read more here.
“We had no idea that we were going to see what we saw.” These are never words you want to hear about a slaughterhouse. But they’re exactly what Adam Wilson, the director of investigations at Last Chance for Animals, a Los Angeles-based animal advocacy group, said about his organization’s recent investigation of Pel-Freez, the nation’s largest rabbit processing plant, located in Rogers, Arkansas.
The details, obtained by an undercover agent who worked at Pel-Freez as a “blood catcher” for six weeks last fall, are, even by abattoir standards, morbid. Slaughterhouse workers were filmed improperly stunning rabbits by whacking them in the face with the dull side of a knife (electrical stunning is the norm); they broke the legs of conscious rabbits to better fit them onto J-hooks designed for poultry; they decapitated fully conscious rabbits; and they ignored grievous rabbit injuries. Wilson noted how, in one instance, a worker encountered an abscessed wound on a rabbit so filled with pus that he wretched.
As far as media attention goes, April 11, 2014, was a banner day for Greg Finch. As the lone supplier of antibiotic-free, pastured Vermont pork to the highly acclaimed 5-Knives, a specialized supplier of local pork, Finch was offered what amounted to subsidized advertising space in the Burlington Free Press. The paper’s staff reporter, Sally Pollak—who told me she met Finch at a coffeehouse—served as stenographer for Finch, who delivered his talking points:
“To [raise pigs] without the modern crutches of medicine, it’s management that makes you successful…. Doing things the right way all the time…. I take the best information I can find and adapt it to what I do.”
“This time around, with local foods, the farmer is a big part of the market, which is the exciting part of it…. It’s more of a collaboration. It’s much better for the farmer, and more vibrant for the farm.”
“I’m very, very careful about bio-security.”
Experienced observers will recognize these remarks as boilerplate rhetoric, the kind that characterizes much of today’s food writing. A year later, though, Finch finds himself mired in media muck rather than admiration.
The Vermont Agency of Agriculture recently revealed that much of Finch’s “Vermont” pork came from Pennsylvania pigs. Twice a month Finch headed south to an auction house in New Holland, purchased 50 or so conventionally raised pigs, and hauled them back to the Green Mountain State, where he had them processed into “local” bellies, hams, and other choice cuts.
It was a profitable move while it lasted. Read more.
My son, 13, has started a small business selling some of the photos he’s taken. He decided to do this after having unexpected success selling prints at an Austin arts fair. Feel free to check out his website and share it with others who might be interested. Most importantly, enjoy.