Vegan Junk Foods

[Dekalb_Blues]

~
GreatSpirit, I find it works best for me to just skip the middleman and go right to the junk junk foods.



That is after I tuck in to a good wholesome helping of Soylent Green, or whatever else I can find handy.

 

Dear Sir,
              I am glad to hear that your 
forum members disapprove of the skit
as strongly as I.  As a naval officer I
abhor the implication that the Royal
Navy is a haven for cannibalism. It is
well known that we now have the problem
relatively under control, and that it is
the RAF who now suffer the largest
casualties in this area.
             And what do you think the
Argylls ate in Aden? Arabs?
                 Yours etc.,
                   Captain B. J. Smethwick
in a white wine sauce with shallots,
mushrooms, and garlic



Meanwhile, I'm re-reading -- of all things, and after many years -- William Dufty's Sugar Blues, which I recently found
in a rain-damaged box of books by a dumpster (the poor man's Brentano's) -- a time-capsule-like '60s/'70s/'80s period collection
of counterculture do-it-yourself-organically healthier-living titles (Georges Ohsawa's You Are All Sanpuku! John Ott's Health
and Light! Francis Moore Lappe's Diet for a Small Planet! Roger J. Williams' Biochemical Individuality! Linus Pauling's Vitamin C
and the Common Cold! J. I. Rodale's Sugar: The Curse of Civilization! etc. etc.).

 Mdm Swanson was one wild chick. She was a sex-symbol silent film star from the age of 17 (ca. 1916, when her future husband Dufty was arriving via stork), had an affair with old Joe Kennedy, JFK's wealthy Hollywood-film-mogul dad, and much later played a negative hyperversion of herself in the classic 1950 film Sunset Boulevard, and in middle age seriously took up hatha yoga, and what with the fact that she had been a serious "health food nut" since the 1920's this resulted in a near-miraculous rejuvenation which made her effectively a generation younger than her age (she married then-50-year-old ex-sugar-junkie Dufty in her mid-60's and lived to be 83, jet-setting around the globe, hanging with fellow macrobiotics-aficionados John and Yoko Lennon, and so on).




^  O Exploitable metaphorically all the way up and down the whole cosmic scale of doing anything whatsoever

It would seem that many who essay sweeping changes in their dietary regimes are simply undergoing something
analogous to what is called "hysterical conversion" in the ideological domain -- i.e., when one maintains the
same conditionedly-addictive quantity of life-energy that one had sunk into belief-system "x", say, as one simply
moves one's obsessed attention (usually with all kinds of attendant dramatic "born-again"-type hoopla, complete
with holier-than-thou-ism and fierce evangelististic urges) to some nominally different but essentially interchangeable
belief system "y". None of which belief necessarily has to prosaically match up with mundane reality to any great extent.
It's the fun and adventure of it all that seems to count, the sheer experience of anything stimulatingly catalytic.
But meanwhile, as the Sufis say, if a murderer can somehow become merely a thief, it's a step in the right direction
when all's said and done, as long as you're not too impatient and picky about the thing.
There's something very important about negotiating the existential paradoxical nexus of aetherial-spirited-immortal-being 
and mortal-red-blooded-omniverous-animal without being too masochistically self-depriving or too hoggishly self-gorging
or getting too worked up about it one way or another. After all, you gotta eat, and something's gotta be on the menu;
traditionally it's been something that couldn't run as fast as your ancestors could... it's all very well to explore ideals of
absolute non-harmfulness in chowing down (in which the miraculous breatharians would of course have to wear heavy-duty
super-fine filters over their heads so they don't accidentally inhale some stray airborne microbe alive to its screaming micro-
death) but at a certain point it's pretty well built into this type of Creation that something gets hurt as it changes form from
whole entity to fragments of protein, etc.  It would seem that at the deepest level all the beings agree to this food-chain
state of affairs, the idea being that all else being equal it's all over in a couple of (admittedly nasty) chomps, but if it isn't,
that's what merciful opium-like releases of dopamine are all about. Still, I try not to go out of my way to stick my head
positively into lion's maws to test this metaphysical theory.

If the beings get disgruntled over the Thing-1-dines-on-Thing-2 program, they're left with the fabled Wish-sandwich
option of nutriment: that's where you have two slices of bread... and you wish you had some meat...



Or as Rodney Dangerfield put it in another connection, in response to being thrown over by a maddeningly non-
confrontational  girlfriend who evasively swore that while he should get lost, she "didn't want to have anyone's feelings
hurt" over it:
"Look, you don't want to hurt my feelings, I don't want to hurt your feelings -- but meanwhile, if somebody don't get
hurt around here...  somebody's gonna get hurt!! "