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Food

So, I bet some of you are wondering what Theresa has been up to. I know, I know, that loveable little scamp just worms her way into your heart and then quickly leaves the state. It’s one of the things I love about her, but it might be a downer to others.

So what has she been up to you wonder? Well, aside from freezing in the Mars like temperatures in the midwest, she spends most of her time arguing with me about soy. Please note, I have no idea what she actually does with her time, but I assume she just sits quietly and thinks about jokes to tell me, while enjoying some TV on an {unnamed video streaming site}. Which is what I assume everyone does when I am not around.

Since all my readers catalogue everything I have ever written, I am going to assume everyone remembers that I don’t eat soy. Up until recently, it is something that I try to be discrete about, because I hate having conversations about my eating habits with others. Which sort of makes me a jerk face because I am pretty nosey about what other people will and will not eat.

My hesitation to discuss my anti-soy stance is that intellectually I know it doesn’t stand up to scrutiny. I refuse to eat to soy as a symbolic stand against Monsanto, my personal metonym for Big Ag. Well, fair is fair, and since I spent a whole post putting the vegans on blast, let’s turn the tables on me.

My problems with roundup ready seeds and their implications for human and pollinator health aside, the rockafeller-style market control Monsanto has on soy bean production is truly impressive. 90% of soybean seeds in America are a Monsanto patent. With this monopoly, the company is not shy about suing farmers for replanting their seeds as patent violation, a position which the Supreme Court has upheld. In fairness to Monsanto, they are not the only seed company that does this. Purdue, Cargill, etc etc all employ these methods as well. There’s Flaw 1 in my anti-soy campaign. If I have a big enough problem to avoid Monsanto GMO soy for health reasons as well as protests over shady business practices, why not Cargill wheat? (Real talk answer: I like bread more than tofu.)

Hey speaking of protesting, how effective is withholding my dollars from Monsanto, actually? Flaw 2, not a whole lot. A company that rakes in nearly 15 billion dollars a year could honestly care less about my business, which would amount to less than a drop in the bucket. I am not above admitting my own financial insignificance. But even that assumes that I could avoid eating soy, entirely. That is pretty unlikely considering its presence in processed foods and use in the supply chain for dairy production. I might be able to avoid buying soy, but how many of my lattes are made with milk that comes from soy fed cows? Well probably a lot. So while my dollars may not go directly to Monsanto, the chance that I can stop spending money on food that doesn’t have Monsanto anywhere in the supply chain is pretty small.

There you have it, two extremely major flaws. And yes, I know everything comes in shades of grey, and that something doesn’t have to be all or nothing in order to be effective. For example, you don’t have to give up meat entirely to be have an impact. And really it’s impossible not to participate in the food system. So it’s normally at this point that Adult-Me takes over, and rationalizes and says things like “It’s fine to eat that tofu, because your cousin made Pad Thai with it, and just be polite. It’s not really a big deal, and you can still have principles and junk. It’s not like drug smuggling or giving attention to Rush Limbaugh.”

I would be able to get over myself and continue on with my quiet, secret protest, with only an internal conflict to keep me going. Except for Theresa’s constantly taunting me with her tofu consumption.

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She’s smart enough to know that I am just being a well-intentioned dumb dumb on a meaningless anti-soy crusade, which not only undermines my own intellegence and credibilty, but countermands my entire life philosophy of reminding everyone that things are so much more complicated than that. And I assume that amuses her to know end.

The more she wants to eat tofu and talks to me about it, the more I dig my heals in about NOT eating it. This is clearly a holdover from my days as a teenager. I can’t really explain why I do this, or what emotional hang ups that keep me stubbornly clinging to my believes. I mean, look, I know deep down in my heart of hearts that what I am doing is ultimately futile, with huge logical flaws. But the more other people point it out to me, the more I cling to my fantasies that my actions actually have some meaning. I want it to be true that I have some control over the world, and my fate, OK!

…..

…..I think I might have just understood religion.

 

Happy New Year, everyone! 

I am drawing to the end of my time in Salt Lake City, and I am getting into a full research and writing mode. This is a depressing way to ring in the New Year. I’ve had to take several breaks to walk in a circle around the KOA. (Which in its own way is also depressing as the weather inversion that keeps particulate pollution hovering over the city is particularly bad today. So bad in fact, I cannot see the mountains over the haze.)

The advice that is handed down again and again by health experts, environmentalists, and food scientists is “less meat, more plants”. It’s good advice, and is seemingly simple to follow. So why do people have such a hard time with it? 

There is of course the danger in turning into a godless sissy if you eat less than 2 pounds of meat a week. If you’re going to eat that way you might as well just move to France, and become a communist. But there are other, more legitimate reasons why the “more plants” portion of advice can be such a tricky needle to thread. 

One problem is that where can you go to find fruits and veggies, let alone those that are not coated in pesticides? The USDA estimates that roughly 23.5 million people live in areas that have no groceries stores with fresh produce, and are instead only serviced by fast food or convenience stores. As you can imagine this problem disproportionately affects low income areas, including the inner cities, and believe it or not, rural areas. 

It was at this point I had to walk around for a minute. Our food system has gotten so bad that even people who live on farmland can’t get access to good food. Massive farm subsidies that favor large companies that grow corn, soy and wheat mean that small farmers are financially obligated to grow these plants the way Cargill or Monsanto or Purdue demand. 

Between reading about the food deserts, animal welfare violations, environmental impacts, and international food aid policies that cripple local economic development, I am ready to start the god damn revolution. Let the streets run green with the fruits of our labor! 

But then of course, I continue reading about farm subsidies, corporate marketing, the USDA, and of course, the politicians and lobbyists, and my rebellious spirit gets a little dejected. I start to wonder if my internet connection is good enough to visit an unnamed video streaming service for the next 1,000 years. {C’mon Netflix or Hulu, I know one of you wants this sponsorship}

 I am all for revolution guys, truly, I am. It’s great to be passionate enough to want to do something to thwart a rigged system, but revolting without accomplishing anything is really just yelling at a system that already ignores you. And I really am only into wasting time with video streaming. How do you damn the man when the man is such a behemoth? 

My solution was to eat some organic spinach and wonder if a coffee based diet counts as plant based. But thankfully there are people who are better at achieving things than me. People like Ron Finley of the L.A. Green Grounds. Through his community gardening, Finley has found a solution to the food problem that is devastating his community, helping people gain affordable access to healthy foods. He’s even better at motivating both the revolutionaries and the pragmatiststhan me. In his own words, “Gardening is the most therapeutic and defiant act you can do, especially in the inner city. Plus, you get strawberries.” Sign me up. 

As you can imagine, I think a lot about diet, and what motivates people to choose to eat a certain way. I for example, prefer to primarily alternate between eating whatever food best services as a vehicle for cheese and mushrooms (lettuce or eggs) and gorging on grapes. I find my motivations for feeding myself vary depending on what I am doing, like how much I am exercising, what fruit is in season, if there is salt water taffy around, etc etc. But to be honest, I don’t really have the self-discipline to eat according to a philosophy, especially while on the road, where pragmatics take over a lot of the time.

At first I had the problem of how to keep things cold for more than a day, which made dairy a bit precarious. Now, with Salt Lake holding steady at 25 degrees, I have the opposite problem of not being able to keep my greens from freezing.

I also have the problem of every time I cook, needing to have the same conversation with which ever KOA neighbor just arrived. [Actually, I am heading somewhere colder, not warmer. And yes, I can stay warm in there. Yes, the trailer is awesome. Want to take a look? I am all alone. I guess you could say it’s crazy/brave/goofy/different.] It’s not that I particularly mind chatting with people at the KOA. I kind of enjoy it, but it is seriously the same conversation every time.

Anyway, the point is on this trip I have spent way more time planning and thinking about how I am going to eat that at any previous time in my life. Which gets me on to how other people think about how they eat. I wonder about other people a lot. Frankly, you all are weird, and I don’t get you. Not in a judgey way. Keep on keeping on, weirdos.

But a thing that is quite curious to me is people who stick to a food -ism, and why someone might pick their particular -ism. It’s hard enough for me to figure out what to do eat from a purely practical perspective, so my ear prick up when I learn about those of us who have a strict food dogma.

The obvious one is vegetarianism. I’ve dabbled with this particular -ism myself. It was primarily motivated by environmental concerns. It started as a conscious effort to reduce my meat consumption. Giving up meat is the food group that was easiest for me, and was a personal “carbon offset”. I use a frightening number of disposable cups, so I am trying to make it up to the planet by not eating meat or having an air conditioner. I went to full blown vegetarianism simply to see if I could. I could not. If I considered my food choices to be made in vaccuum, I probably could have done it. But I eat socially, and honestly, I just can’t rally enough to have the “I don’t eat meat” convo every time I want to share a meal with someone.

[Btw, I have since learned there is an -ism for shiftless veggies such as myself. “Flexitarian” it’s called. If I’m not willing to have the meat convo with people, I am certainly not willing to explain the term flexitarian to anyone.]

Then there are the vegetarians who will eat fish (pescatarians), those that won’t eat eggs or dairy (ovo-lacto veg), and the level 5 vegetarians, the vegans. And of course there are the myriad of fad movements. The paleo-diet, the raw diet, South Beach, Atkins, and so on and so forth.

I have very little investment in what anyone else decides to eat. In fact, the only thing I particularly care about is that you tell me before I cook for you. I eat and like to eat almost everything, so it’s no never mind to me if I need to make a gluten free vegan whatever. But like I said, I am constantly wondering about the why of it all.

Now, I just want to warn you. I’m going to talk about bees now. It’s so out of the ordinary for me that I thought you guys should have some time to brace yourselves.

My particular beekeeping path makes me especially interested in what people think about honey. Honey is a pretty universal dietary staple. In fact, the only people I have come across who are iffy on it are people who have never had raw honey, and only ever tasted the tinny pasteurized stuff from China, (everyone, don’t eat that.) or vegans.

Some, but not all, vegans avoid honey for the same reason they avoid meat and dairy. It is an animal byproduct that is being taken in a way that they deem to be cruel and exploitive. 

I will be first, and probably the loudest, critic of the modern beekeeping industry.* But from my point of view, honey is not where bees are being exploited. Honey is a small fraction of the income that the beekeeping industry receives. Most commercial beekeepers make their living from pollination services in the various food crops nationwide that rely on insect pollination. And it’s that system of trucking bees from coast to coast for the majority of their lives, and exposing them to vast fields of pesticides and fungicides in landscapes that they will starve in without our intervention is the cruel and exploitive part. We have created an agricultural landscape where bees simply cannot survive unless we take care of them, and we’re not taking care of them very well.

I recently purchased a vegan alternative to honey, called Bee Free Honee. Kudos to a fellow Minnesota entrepreneur, and her product is certainly tasty. And there are a lot of advantages to having a natural sweetener that is not honey. (For people with allergies, and infants who can’t eat honey), but it’s made exclusively from apples. It is not bee free.

And this where food dogma becomes quite the sticky wicket. Just like every other time rigid rubber of idealism hits the real life road, exceptions and “what about….?” questions come up. It is in an admirable sentiment to want to avoid foods and other products that exploit animals, and I am grateful that there are people who give a lot of concern to bees. But unless we are paying someone to hand pollinate our nation’s apple orchards, there were bees used.

So, then what is the answer? To stop eating food pollinated by bees, and rely solely on crops pollinated by wind? To give you something of an idea of what that would look like, here is an abbreviated list of crops pollinated by honey bees.

Okra, Kiwi, cashews, apples, berries, beets, mustard, broccoli, rapeseed (Canola oil), peppers, chestnuts, coconut, coffee, citrus, almonds, avocados, cotton, pears, celery. The list goes on.

You’ll notice even cotton is on that list. This now becomes about more than food. Vegans avoid leather, wool, silk and pearls because they are animal products. Without bees, there is no cotton. Are we left with just synthetic fibers now?

I am not trying to be an ass to vegans. I would rather talk to a vegan who accuses me of cruelty (as much as it stings) about the bees than someone who dismisses bees as “just bugs”. Because at least the vegans care, and that’s a much easier place to start from. But, bees are not the same as cows or pigs or chickens. We could do without all of those. The simple truth is: we can’t do without our pollinators. We absolutely need them, doing what they do.

So is taking advantage of the bee’s natural behavior an exploitation? I can tell you, they will be out there on all of our food crops anyway, because that’s how they feed themselves. If we plan an agriculture landscape that creates a healthy habitat for the bees is that enough? Should we still avoid taking honey in that situation? Should we only allow feral bees? Or do we go in whole hog and scrap systematic agriculture entirely? There is a balance to be struck somewhere in all of this. And that is because we need the bees, so we have to find a way to do it.

What was I talking about again? Oh, right. Deciding what to eat. Like I said, I have no judgements on what anyone eats, because I don’t want anyone judging what I eat. Listening to me trying to justify why I won’t eat is soy is hilarious because I really can’t, and comes down to me being stubborn and defiant.

I can practically feel the eyes of my old catechism teacher rolling as I type this, but dogmas are unreasonable. Not that I am trying to make an appeal to the Holy See of Veganism to revise their stance on honey or even animal cruelty, or accusing vegans of not taking careful reflection on their lifestyle choices. But the “what about the bees?” question is an important one for anyone who wants to avoid animal products. Those tiny pollinators have their sticky little legs in everything.

So, in conclusion, I have no conclusion. I still am curious as to what makes people decide on their food habits, why some people decide to describe themselves with an -ism, and what that means for the whole damn system. This whole long post comes to a dissatisfying conclusion. And the only real thing I have to say about food choices is the same thing I have to say when someone asks about just about everything I spend any time thinking about.  Whether it’s this, what I am doing with my life, or if I’d like some Soyrizo, it’s to sigh and respond: “It’s complicated.”

*Please note, I said industry, and not commercial beekeepers. These guys are primarily doing the best they can with a dysfunctional food system and an environment that is becoming increasingly hostile. commercial beekeepers have more motivation to want healthy bees than anyone, and only solutions that will work are the ones that keep them in mind.

I am pretty tuckered out from my last few days of posting, but in order to keep up a good habit, I am going to post something, even if it is a little bit lazy.

Every time I start to put some serious work into my longer article, I was this TED Talk from my personal hero and all around girl crush, Dr. Marla Spivak. This video, along with my own work with the bees started me off on this whole crazy jag, and helps me to organize my thoughts.

This is the problem that is the context to all my thinking in the past year or so, and definitely worth a watch.

I think it’s a pretty normal human condition to criticize the status quo, and much more rare to produce an answer, especially reasonable actionable ones. It’s always easy to spot problems, and considerably less easy to spot solutions. And when dealing with a huge problem like food system and reform, it’s pretty easy to just want to chuck the whole thing, and just go play outside, then hunker down in your trailer and watch 3 seasons of Homeland in a week.

Well, I did that. But my perfect blend of couch potato and adventure/explorer was not to last, as my self-conscious reminded me to get back to work. It did this by sending me a stress dream where I got a comment on the blog indicting me for being such a downer in response to my preachy meat article. The commenter (my subconscious) called me out for not only bringing everyone done, but not providing any hope for anyone. Why am I focusing so much on what people are doing wrong? Isn’t there something that people are doing right?

What it says about me and the post modern world that I need to talk to myself through a fantasy digital correspondence is a wholly different topic that may need to be addressed with a professional. But the me-commenter had a point.

A fantastic article came out on NPR last week that I feel provides a great view-point and tempered response to the Rolling Stone article’s sensationalism of meat production.

While the advice to developed, wealthy countries remains “eat less meat”, researchers want to provide a more global context to this. From the article:

Given the range of human nutritional needs and the different ways of raising livestock, Herrero and co-authors argue, decisions about how to make meat and milk production more sustainable should probably be local ones. In other words, there’s no “one-size-fits-all” blueprint for sustainability for farmers.

That’s because when it comes to raising livestock, the contradictions abound, the authors note.

One example? While animals provide nutrients for farmers’ crops (think manure), their waste also pollutes the land and water. While grazing animals can be beneficial to a grassland ecosystem, overgrazing can destroy it. Questions of health can be equally complex: Animal milk and meat are critically important sources of protein and other nutrients for many people – especially the poor – but they also contribute to obesity and chronic disease.

What this means is that a cattleman raising 10 cows on cruddy grassland in Zambia and the manager of a major Kansas feedlot have starkly different priorities when it comes to how they manage resources.

And the authors say the same goes for consumer choices about animal products in rich countries versus those in poor countries: While most Americans could forgo a third serving of bacon for the week, mothers in Cambodia may very well need to seek out more milk and chicken for their children.

But that nuanced global perspective is missing from the conversation about meat production, Hererro says.

So, while understanding that a meatless and livestock free globe isn’t necessarily the best solution, and isn’t really a viable option, what does that mean for us in the developed world? Cutting back on what you consume, but also focusing on a de-centralized farming system would be a good start. With community supported agriculture organizations becoming more and more popular, the next step is beginning to coalesce in many cities. The newest trend in the local food movement is development supported agriculture. Similar to CSA model in which consumers own a share in a farm, developers and city planners are beginning to plan for land that includes food production. This includes things like community gardens, orchards, and even livestock.

This integration of farming and residence is an economic boon for farmers, who frequently have the dilemma of getting food to the consumer, and revitalizes the notion of the neighborhood farm which fell out of fashion in the post-war  urban exodus in favor of the insular suburban developments we see today. It also spreads the cost of large farm purchases out into the community and not place it solely on the farmer, where a large machine purchase can break the farm.

These sort of DSA communities are already enjoying a lot of success in areas like Fort Collins and Atlanta, and its easy to see how this type of model can be parlayed into subsidized housing to help alleviate food security and health in impoverished areas.

Ain’t that neat? Kudos to everyone working out there to move food reform into a positive actionable response. While I know these solutions are being developed out of a much more egalitarian motives to improve their communities and whatnot, I mostly appreciate it from the selfish stand point of being able to say something good, and not feel like an accusatory d-bag. Without having to worry about being such a bummer, I can really focus up on Homeland.

To read more about development supported agriculture, check out this article, again, from NPR.

T here.
In response to Cori’s post a couple of days ago, it’s not that I have no opinion, I’ve got plenty of those. It’s that I have learned to reign them in to better control my rage. I’d call myself an opinionated non control freak. I respect people way more for not listening to me, except when I am right, which is about politics, social issues, and Netflix. I have exactly zero opinions about where to sit in the movie theater, where to eat (as long as it is always tacos and frozen yogurt), or whether we should stay in a place or leave it. This is because I am saving all of my feelings for election season when I will probably care way too much and could murder a basket of kittens in cold blood. And it is also because Cori is doing all of the driving and I automatically make anyone who will drive me places my pack leader. My lack of caring about incidental stuff probably makes people around me pretty uncomfortable, but I mean I kind of just don’t care. At least I am consistent.

Cori is worried that she’s bumming all y’all out and being a food downer and my thoughts on food are kind of a downer right now too. I love hearing all of her stories about farms and such and about the amazing people running them. And that gives me quite a bit of hope. But it does seem like generally the more you find out about farming and produce, the less you can eat. I’ve been fighting this for years. I’ve been advised over the years to eat or not eat everything under the sun by experts with varying degrees of actual expertise. Add to that the pesticides, the mistreatment of animals and farm workers, GMOs, and the other concerns surrounding sustainable agriculture, and the fact that the guy sitting next to you (me) at Starbucks is a total douche monster and it is overwhelming to say the least. This has been the general consensus in the traveling twosome’s discussions of the day.

I do have some pictures and some happy stuff to share about this trip, but in the interest of being consistent and in order to avoid getting accused of writing another fluff piece, I will leave you with this poem. A poem I did not write and one that is probably a downer (not to me, I just love it).

Evil Corn

My first few months in Minnesota, I listen to a Public Radio performer pimping a perfidious, nasal patter of prairie companionship, and I can’t help but wonder what hairless planet he’s nattering from. Okay, on the surface, it’s safe here. Life is ordered. No stone-heart urban thugs a’dancing. No fearsome city noise to start the ears a’bleeding. But something about the place gives my bones the heebie-jeebies. Left to the sun and rain, this land of quaint squares of dark soil sprouts a bright uniform green from road to road that murders anything natural. Gone are the tall grass prairies, vanished are the native trees, and corralled are the once-feathered Indians. Evil corn and its masters have murdered this land.

I wake to my first harvest in southwest Minnesota and see that corn, the basic grain, the light of dark Indian stomachs for millennia, has transformed from a life sustainer to a life destroyer. When I tell a friend the corn is now evil, she titters and whispers, “Oxymoron.” Transplanted city folk at the college say how glad they are to be away from cities and in “the country,” but this place is not “the country” even though a green blanket shrouds the four sacred directions. This is subjugated land, strangely industrial and rural at the same time. Corn and soy fields rotate on alternating years. The corn here is tall and imposing, but it is not the same creature Squanto planted and spoon-fed the loony pilgrims with. This is not the corn of the Zuni shalako, and it’s not the Diné holy giver of pollen.

This is not the corn I scratched into the dry dirt of my childhood. This is mutant flora, a green American Frankenstein born of chemicals and greed. It is lucre bound for the sweet tooth of America in the form of corn syrup, for our car gas tanks as ethanol, and as fodder for the stomachs of cattle. These cobs, genetically altered and pesticide soaked, cornhole all that is sacred.

In dreams, I recognize the sacred, have always tried in my profane way to bow to the sacred, but waking decades of hand-to-mouth survival have nearly blanched all holiness from my soul. Despite my occasional frothing, a typically generic American consumer lives in my mirror. Yet I reside in an ancient farmhouse surrounded by evil corn. Green death rises from this bad-heart land where I’ve brought my cats and dogs. We’re exiled to a toxic hell where the laughing devils of necessity have chased us, five hundred miles form the dying woman we love. Do not pit my animal friends or me. Pity the sallow and linear pimps who greedily grow green the destruction of our ancestors and their natural world.
– Adrian C. Louis

I have about a week and a half left on this trip and then I’m out, so I’ll try to guest post with substance soon. I work well under pressure. I’m gonna say some super deep, meaningful stuff soon and it will change your life.

I am a meat eater, and am unapologetic for that. I have been a vegetarian in the past, and can forgo the luxury of meat with little to no notice. My main reason for not being a complete vegetarian is simply a social one. I believe that food is cultural and a sharing a meal is a form of social bonding. If my entire family and social circle were to sudden become vegetarians, it would probably take me a long time to notice. But since they are not, I eat meat along with them. I find it hard to reconnect with my family or friends when I don’t share full in meal, by opting out of certain portions. This is a personal feeling, and is probably a result of my opting out of other shared traditions.

I think there is huge value in viewing food as a cultural vehicle. When companies like Nestle and Pepsi, companies who are notorious for providing cheap, nutritionally void and environmentally disastrous snacks, design their marketing campaigns, they actively work to destroy the notion of food-as-culture and replace it with a food-as-convenience attitude.

When food is simply convenient, and not something that most people want to think about, people want to be cheap and abundant. If we don’t care about preparing a meal for ourselves, it’s not hard to stop caring about how food is farmed. When its too much of a hassle to spend a few hours once a week to prepare a meal, its not hard to see why there is so little motivation to devote the time necessary to research and source your food. This leads to the rise of factory farms that can produce massive amounts of food quickly and cheaply, and results in an unwillingness to test GMO crops that are toxic and appalling situations for livestock.

This week, Rolling Stone sent out an expose regarding animal cruelty in the meat industry. The video in the articles are hard to watch, and the slick, blood spatter style graphics presenting statistics about animal deaths contribute to overall creep factor.

Rolling Stone can add as many sepia toned photos framed by animated lipstick red blood as they want and I will not be shocked that animals die for meat. (In fact, I am mildly offended by the cartoonish-ness of the blood.) The fact is I am not squeamish about the simple fact of animals dying to feed humans, just like I am not squeamish about animals dying to feed other animals. It’s a part of how things eat. I am not committing this callousness to text in order to prove something to you about my iron hard resolve or even to call out Rolling Stone on its sensationalism. But I think it’s important to cut through the theatrics of the article to get at the deeper problems. And tt’s not that animals are dying, its the sheer amount of animals, and the toll that comes with raising, slaughtering and distributing cheap meat in such astronomical numbers, and our willingness, as a culture to place abundant luxury over animal welfare, environmental safety, employee well being, and even our own health.

The appalling cruelty that these animals live and die in is absolutely unacceptable. And we got to this place by an increasing demand for meat with every meal and for it to be as cheap as possible. There is nothing healthy about this, for the consumer, for ag-workers, for the economy, and especially for the animals.

I am not advocating for vegetarianism, but the fact of the matter is, meat is expensive to produce, from both a biological stand point and from an economic stand point. So why are we demanding that it be so cheap to consume? It makes no sense for meat to be cheap. It requires immense resources from water to fuel to land, and we simply can not sustain this model any longer.

So, here it is guys. This is as preachy as I hope to get on this blog, and straight from a turkey murdering meat eater, who is not trying to scare you or scandalize you: If you think meat is too expensive, then you need to seriously consider not eating it any more, rather than demand it be cheaper. Maybe start thinking of it like alcohol. Something that’s fine to do on a Saturday night, or over the holidays, but not something that’s healthy to do every single day. This system is slowly but surely killing us, body and soul, and eroding our chances of getting back to a healthy food system.

The Belly of the Beast – Rolling Stone