A vegetarian breaks his silence. For nearly 15 years, “would you like some pork” has been the hilarious follow-up question to “Why are you vegetarian?”

Then I get asked if I’d like some beef. Every time. Brilliant. That’s why I just smile and shrug. All you other vegetarians probably know this situation well too. But, for the first time, dear reader, I’m answering that burning question, the one that gets everyone I meet for the first time riled up and provides comedy gold every time we eat out, or hell, at the mention of any food at all! Here’s the definitive answer to all your questions, meat-lovers.

I am vegetarian because I don’t see the point in eating animals. That’s it, really. I’ve lasted this long eating nothing that once was alive, I’m sure I can last a little while longer. Before you get your knickers in a twist, meatys, I’m onto you already. “Vegetables were alive!” you were thinking (and often say). Yes, smartarse, I suppose they were. They were as alive as a blade of grass or a shrub. I’d say that those things don’t live life to the full though. They exist, they look wonderful and do a job, but in terms of life, they’re pretty low down. If you hack off the head of an animal, it hurts it; if you hack off the head of a cabbage, it doesn’t. Let’s agree on that one. So I’d be happy to cut up all the vegetables in the world but if you asked me to cut up a dog, I’d not be so into it. The same goes for cows, sheep and pigs – all the wonderful staples of the meat spectrum.

I’m not religious in any way, so I don’t hold stock in the belief that man was created above all animals. I think man’s amazing – as amazing as anything else that’s happened to turn up on this world (apart from mosquitoes and their ilk – they’re dreadful).

The American author Kurt Vonnegut wrote of how his sister ruined fishing for his father by describing the act as ‘like smashing up tiny pocket watches.’ There’s stock in that. These things may be tiny but my word they’re wonderful. They work so well! If that veers into hippy country then so be it. I still hate bongos. Like going fishing, everyone has the choice between eating dead animals and not. What’s nicer? There’s only one answer.

As for the social stigma, abstaining from anything inevitably garners the same unwanted attention. If you don’t drink you not only have to spend the night out fielding questions about why you don’t drink but you also have to spend hours supping on orange juice and Coke while your companions get drunker and louder and ask why you don’t drink, this time with a jabbing finger and a gang mentality steeped in bravado. I can imagine it’s very dull, as dull as defending not eating meat.

Vegetarians are apparently always in the wrong though, based on this senseless logic: ‘Oh, but then there’d be too many animals!’ ‘We’d have to hunt them or they’d overrun us!’ They wouldn’t, and if they did? A city full of sheep and chickens would be delightful. We’ve got rats everywhere, why not let the cuddlier creatures have a go? Because they wouldn’t, that’s why. None of the better-offdead battery farmed animals would be able to stand the sunlight or hobble out of the sheds on their nubs of twisted feet anyway. If you need to kill things, kill them and have done with it.

Rape them too, if you fancy. Whatever makes you feel manly. Once you’re done killing them in inventive ways we can stop hunting. If you need to get an erection over ending the life of a defenseless being then go and punch a baby in the face. Same thing, just the baby will probably survive. You can smear any blood that comes out of it onto your face and indulge in some mirror onanism. You’ll love it and nothing need die. Surely we’re above that now, big guy.

This tongue-in-cheek diatribe may sound preachy, but don’t worry – I know I’m only speaking to fellow vegetarians. So no complaints, I just don’t fancy some pork, thanks.

Words: Tom Cassidy

Tags: babies, pork, vegetarian
Posted in Features