Monday, 21 September 2009

Revolution and food

It has to be faced, but the Left is essentially middle class. All that thirst for justice and high principles just seems so connected to pissing the parents off. I know it was for me. But in the seventies something odd happened. Instead of championing the proletariat/working class/ordinary people, they dumped them. I think it may be connected to the rise of the credit card, sky sports and televised talent competitions, but it could also be that the Left realised that the 'working classes' didn't want to be championed.

So what did the Left turn to? Animals. Veganism, vegetarianism, environmentalism, deep ecology. Call it what you will, it comes down to cuddly animals and the fact that the animals can't tell their 'rescuers' to 'fuck off'. It's the moral certainties of the left combined with the animal sentimentality of the english: an unstoppable combination. For the last forty years there's been a war going on and few people have noticed.

'Meat is murder,' dead hunger strikers, the battle with hunters, transporting of animals, veal, foie gras, fire-bombing of restaurants and butchers. The inability to eat anything that looks like it may once have been alive: fish with the heads on or (god forbid) have bones, meat with blood, animal fats, freshness as a quality for fish, hanging as a quality for meat. Anything sold with plastic around it (including pot noodles) is the triumph of vegetarianism.

I don't accept Hugh Fearnly-Wittingstall's argument that we have a contract with these species that keeps them going provided that they give us meat. But I don't think we can eat meat by pretending that it wasn't once alive. My area's wildlife is being decimated by minks released into the wild by animal liberationists. It's true that I've watched minks and thought them to be cute small otters. But me, the mink and even the 'cuddly' polar bears know that meat (and fish, and game) tastes good.

How can you define yourself by what you don't eat? All moral indignation and squeamishness about blood. Where's your adventure and sense of possibilities. Dip the bread into the roast tray and just enjoy.

1 comment:

  1. Well, I'm pleased you didn't say anything rude about prawns.