Simone
I’m not a vegetarian because I care about animals. Well, I do care about animals, but in the way many people do. When I see something being hurt, I feel that pain as though it’s being inflicted upon me. I shiver with the bruised ASPCA commercial dog, I limp with the caged cow. In this sense, the Babe approach is wildly effective: Tap into empathetic emotion, and shock people into changing their habits. But there is one avenue that has yet to be explored.
I am a vegetarian because I find animals absolutely disgusting—all animals. Fish have kept me from swimming. I’d rather run barefoot over broken glass than ride a horse. While I am most disturbed by capybaras, anything furry and fat makes me want to throw up. To me, chickens are dinosaurs, and that kind of anachronism freaks me out. The worst culprits are the creatures most commonly eaten by humans. Yes, pork sounds good and all, but with some thought, one remembers that pigs are filthy animals that roll around in mud all day, with a penchant for cannibalism and pea-sized brains. Have you ever passed a pasture on the highway? How did it smell?
This weekend, I wore an ironic shirt to drama rehearsal that bore the phrase: “Don’t eat me, I’m your friend!” On the shirt was a cartoon porker—big and smelly and ugly. Another actress pondered my apparel, asking if I was vegetarian. In truth, I never thought my explanation for avoiding animal products would offend a vegan. Lesson learned. ♦