Posts Tagged ‘ethical omnivore’

Never put other people’s eyes in your mouth, you never know where they’ve seen.

Hey, I’m a manly man*.  I know its cool to suck on eyeballs and then crunch down and pop them so gunk flows out, but I confess, I just can’t do it.  I can’t eat something that something else has been looking out.  Except perhaps a window.  But that’s for another post.

(However, it is ok to lick the blind.  But not a window blind.  Ironic?  No, just stupid.)

*says me.


Those of you who have been subscribing to the analytical reports of the Chip Laboratories since ancient times know of our well founded efforts to ethicise (ha! take that, dictionary) omnivorism.  We are trying folks, we really are.  We have put all of this week’s grant money into considering balloon animals.

Some of you maybe scoffing, as you associate these creatures with parlour games and carnivals.  However, I am not talking about simple domesticated balloon animals.   I am talking about great sweeping herds of massive fortean creatures, blocking the sun on their nomadic trek as passenger pigeons once did sweeping across America.  And no, there would be no reliance on foul, poisonous oxygen.  These are great helium or methane filled beasts, nodding and swaying as they are blown by the currents of wind, just as giant jelly fish are swept across oceans.  Picture them now in your mind, see them billowing and filling the sky.  Tremendous storms of them.  The wondrous sight of them as they rail against the elements, indeed as they rail against their own ridiculous existence.  Observing them as over time they are pitted by hail, scarred by lightning.  And the wonder of them is that their pseudo life is no life at all, it is a mere impersonation.  Brave balloon bound hunters shall pursue them without ethical quandary, intrepid mountaineers shall stalk them to their winter homes, small children and we here at the laboratory shall wonder at them.

O!  If only we could get some nutrition into their skins!  Some flavour into the rubber.  Some texture into their form.  And find some way to stop giant sea turtles from choking on them in their thousands when they critters deflate and drop into the sea.  Perhaps it is impossible.  But is not the dream as important as any mere actuality?  At least this dream can unite us all, omnivores, carnivores, vegetarians, vegans, fruitarians, lacto-vegetarians, lacto-ovo-vegetarians, pescetarians, pollotarians, and pollo-pescetarians, the dream of the hunt of the giant pseudo-beasts in the sky that can sustain us all without troubling our consciences.

Until then, at least we have salad.

[“Life’s Solution” by Simon Conway Morris, p112 ‘Fortean bladders’]

No don’t be disgusting, I am not advocating that you eat insects, that would be gross and it is not what your mate my mate Joe Chip is about.

We have all of course at one time or another wished that we were insects.  Who has not wanted to be a cockroach with the ability to run under the fridge, or to be a fly mindlessly belting time and again against a window?  A slater rolled in a ball, a moth struggling in a web.  It is only human nature to desire such a thing.

Given this overwhelming urge to become a six legged invertebrate, why not take it that one step further and adopt the insect diet.  It is more insectophile than insectivore.  No diet could be more ethical, than to eat what is just lying around and going to waste anyway.  It is only our prissiness holding us back.  Don’t be square.  Throw off your bourgeois shackles, your antiquated “oh I won’t eat that its rotting and it stinks” mindset, your 1950s Victorian hangups.  This is (almost) the last taboo, and it has to go.  Our children are getting sick because they are not exposed to enough dirt.  Asthma and allergies abound because we have cocooned our kids in protective cradles that crush the creation of their immune systems.

Come on, billions of animals cannot be wrong.  Reduce your carbon footprint to zero.  Embrace excrement.  Desire decomposition.  Revere rot.  Gratify yourself with garbage.  Move over mealworms.  Begone beetles.  Buzz-off bees.  Move on mosquitoes.  Take off termites.  Aroint thee ants.  There is a new biological break down agent in town, and its us.  If an insect eats it, its good for you, and good for the environment.  Devolve now, avoid the rush.

I have had widespread communication with many on the blogospheriumacle regarding issues relating to diet and food and personal hygiene and bones.  “Hey, mymatejoechip”, begin a number of the requests to me, “can you please help.  I am a vegan/vegetarian, that is the way I am hard-wired and there is nothing I can do about it.  Even if I tried to put meat into my mouth, the Elder Gods would turn it into grass, water and sunlight, which tends to burn my tongue and feel uncomfortable.  I don’t want to apologise for who I am, but I am sick of nut cutlets.  What do you advise?”

Firstly, I advise never to apologise.  It is taken as a sign of weakness.  We are who we are.  Be proud.  But don’t be annoying.

Secondly, have you read my posts?  Why are you asking me for advice?

Thirdly, what did you do to piss off the Elder Gods so much?  Do you sense things moving just at the edge of your vision as you try to go to sleep at night?  Do you find personal items to be not quite where you left them?  You may not have much time left.

Fourthly, yes, I will help.  Of course I will.  I am your mate.  (But only with the eating.  Not with the demons so much.)

To get some perspective, I made contact with a vegan person whose post compared a barbecue to the Holocaust, to ask if she ever used antibiotics.  “All the time” she assured me.  Given that she used them so often, I wondered if it was part of a plan to destroy the efficacy of antibiotics through overuse, the sacrifice of several trillion bacteria now to guarantee the long term survival of their race.  “No” she replied, “I take them to stop being sick”.  “So vegans do not have a prohibition on germ warfare?”  “No, we only object to the enslavement and consumption of sentient beings.”

I learned a good deal through that intercourse.  There will come a time when GM produces non-sentient meat so that everyone will be happy.  Vegans will be able to eat like everyone else, and they won’t annoy omnivores by making barbecues difficult.  Until that day, it is up to me to assist.  And I have the solution: germ sausages.

With a small grant from Trevgene (and a large smirk from it’s proprietor), I have set up a laboratory to produce germ sausages.  You are all aware of my long held interest in the microbial.  Now I can put it to use to feed mankind, in particular those suffering the effects of dietary restrictions.  The process is in its early stages, however even now we are encouraging bacterial colonies to grow in sausage shapes, and in sufficient quantities.  Tiny sausages you can only see under a microscope may be cute, but they are not appropriate for sale in butchers.  We are using only wild, free-range microbes, nothing that has been caged or factory harvested, and to date we are mostly concentrating on strands that are relatively harmless to humans.

If you want to try this at home, good luck, its for a good cause.  As a tip, I have found that the main difficulty is in getting the germ colonies large enough.  To achieve this, you need a good culture.  I can’t give away too many commercial secrets, however we use cow’s blood in ours*.  I hope to provide photographs soon.  Our main aim is to get them to taste like chicken.

If you have tried this, please let us know your results.  We welcome any suggestions of good bacteria to use.

*Taken only from wild cattle who are dripping blood and leaving a trail, after being accidentally cut by encounters in natural surroundings, or savaged by wild beasts before we got there.

I want to eat bones, I want to be bones.  Skeletons are tough.  People are afraid of them.  Have you ever been on a train when skeletons come through?  Everyone shuffles out of their way, pretending not to look, pretending they can’t see them.  The skeleton crew, with their swords.  Jason and the Argonauts skeletons.  Plant the little knuckle and a skeleton pops up.

Chew bones, need tougher, stronger teeth.  Man must adapt, must evolve.  Grind them grind them, powder in your mouth, the grit between your teeth, but you do not care, you are a bone chewer.  Crack them suck the marrow yum yum and become!  Yes become them, you are what you eat, except the bit you excrete, the nuggets you leave behind, the moisture flowing from skin, everything else makes you up and you are it.  A big stick of bone, a huge splinter caught between your massive neanderthal molars, your cubes of crushingness, pull the splinter, tug it as it screes, grip it and pull and there is blood and you spit, and you chew more bones.  You become plates of stone.  You become insular and polarised, like radiowaves of rock.  Chase you, chase me, chasing skeleton.

Waste nothing, ethical omnivore.  Eat the beasts, eat their faces, eat their organs.  Don’t waste those bones.  Soup is not the answer.  THEY THROW THE SOUP BONE AWAY! Stop them.  Eat the bone.  Become the power of calcium incarnate.  The skin is gone, the sinews chewed, the appendix swallowed, the gall absorbed, the bile consumed.  Now for the skeleton.  You are eating shape, you are eating structure.  IT TASTES LIKE GEOMETRY.  It is maths in your mouth, it is science, it is form, it is engineering, evolutionary design.  You are gorging on deep history, on time.  It fills you and shapes you.  You are jagged edges, you are endo and exo, you are shaped by the winds of time, blown sand blasted into solidity.  Rock man, you are fossils, you are carved out of hillside, you are danger exposed, you are truth and you storm amongst them and they fear you SKELETOR.  Tyrannosaurus rex, boner, Skull boy, slash that sword, it clinks on the stone of you, clink clink.  Knives pass through, or are stopped.  Crunch.

But dogs should not eat chicken bones.