February 25, 2011
I’ve tried to keep my friendship with Elden secret, because, frankly, I don’t want anybody to know I’m friends with him. That’s why, when we were being investigated by the FBI [well, the National Park Service--but it's still the feds, right?] for the egregious crime of Trundling, while he told the investigator that I was one of his best friends (kind of throwing me under the bus, I’d say), I said I knew Elden “pretty well.”
It was for his own good. Since Elden is widely regarded as a genuinely nice guy, and a noted philanthropist.
And I’m not as widely known, and the unfortunate few who do know me, know me more as, well, a misanthrope.
But I do troll Elden’s blog a bit. Lurk, really. Sometimes I read the comments. Usually I read the comments when he writes one of those jokey posts that are obviously, well, jokes. Because that’s when you can expect the crazies.
And I loves me some crazies.
The other day, Elden wrote a funny post about meat filled energy bars. Meat-ergy bars.
Joking about meat is like an invitation to the cast and characters of One Who Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest.
Or maybe Girl Interrupted. Whatever.
Predictably, the Meat-ergy post attracted attention from humorless Vegans. Usually they come late to the party, because there is a network of humorless Vegans who monitor the Internet for Meat-ergy posts. And then they send in their champion.
This week’s Vegan super hero is Scott Spitz, a 24-year-old [oop--34 years old--suncrestdug regrets the error] vegan who is also:
- an anarchist
- an atheist
- a metal head
- a husband
- a father
So I started thinking very seriously about the very serious things Scott had to say about meat. Etc.
Because Scott is, as I think you’ll agree if you’ll take a close look at his picture, a very serious person. Etc.
Wherein I Give Scott’s Comment Very Serious Consideration
Until I read Scott’s comment, I was pretty sure it was obvious that the Meat-Ergy post was just an absurd joke: a pitch to one of Elden’s sponsors — a VEGAN energy bar company — proposing bars made of various kinds of, well, meat, including suggestions for how thoroughly cooked they should be and what kind of condiments they should use. On the meat. In their meat-ergy bars.
Clearly, that was just wrong. Which Scott wanted all of us to know, in very serious terms. Etc.
And so now, I’m seriously happy to present Scott’s comment. Because I think the whole world needs to know his point of view, that’s why. Because it’s serious. Seriously serious. Etc.
I bet all the animals currently languishing in horrific factory farming conditions think this post is just ridiculously hilarious.
When I read this bombshell, I was astounded. Or flabbergasted.
No, it’s definitely astounded. I still am astounded. How could I not be astounded? I mean, I learned so much. For example:
- I learned that these animals have Internet access. Which leads me to believe that maybe these factory farming conditions aren’t so horrible after all. Or maybe their internet connection is really slow — like it could be some crappy ISDN line attached to an overloaded wireless router, and maybe the router only supports the 802.11a spec. Or maybe they only get internet over a modem. That would be pretty darned horrific.
- I learned that animals are sentient and have the ability to make judgment calls on the quality of humor. Which means they have the leg up on, um, some of us.
- I learned that animals read blogs. Hi, animals.
I’m not offended, but don’t think humor erases the severity of the situation. Here…. http://www.meatvideo.com/
As far as the “I’m not offended” thing goes, here’s the thing. Suppose you just stubbed your toe and you’re dancing around and screaming and your eyes are watering.
Then you say, through the pain, “My toe doesn’t hurt.”
That doesn’t make people suddenly think, “Hey, his toe must not hurt.” Instead, they think, “Hey, this guy thinks we’re too dumb to tell that his toe hurts.”
And then there’s the “severity of the situation” called out in that video. OK, that was in fact pretty gross. No, exceedingly gross. But I think that might be a better argument for more ethical farming, not for veganism.
And I wonder: any time any stranger makes any joke, do you jump on them and tell them why that joke doesn’t save the world? Because — and you may want to sit down for this — jokes don’t usually save the world or otherwise erase the severity of any situation. Almost never. Unless you’re Bill Maher. Which I’m not. Nor is Elden. Wait, come to think of it, I’ve never seen those two together . . .
Anyway. If I were to make a joke about the horrible factory farming conditions of cheerful, sentient vegan marshmallows that wear cute little bowties, it wouldn’t really be very realistic for me to expect you to stop eating those happy little guys, would it?
By the way, I’d think that eating all those happy marshmallows would at least make you smile. You know, like because of osmosis or something. So I have provided a sample image to show what you might look like. For illustrative purposes only. This isn’t a joke, just a comp. We can go a different way if this doesn’t work.
Also, there’s a reason your a fat cyclist.
Why yes, there IS a reason Elden’s a fat cyclist. I’m pretty sure it’s the same reason that Jennifer Aniston continues to make crappy movie after crappy movie.
But you know, there’s a also a reason no vegan runner has qualified for the Olympic marathon trials. Not the Olympics. The trials.
There might even be a reason why you essentially identified and then shamed one of the children you coach in your public blog for eating (cue gasp) ice cream and candy. And I’m sure that you have won that kid over just as thoroughly as you have the rest of us. Really. We’re all on board now. Ice cream and candy bad.
Finally, you should REALLY do some research into the diets that not only avoid cancer but help reverse the promotion of it. This coming from someone whose sister died of triple negative breast cancer.
Really? REALLY? So, you swoop in on someone’s obviously fake joke post about MEAT-ERGY bars, and start talking about cancer? And losing loved ones?
That’s horrible about your sister. But that loss doesn’t make you an expert on diet, or cancer. It clearly doesn’t make you very nice.
And even if you were a recognized expert and not just some stranger offering advice hot on the heels of an otherwise outrageously insulting comment, I’m pretty sure you are currently the very last person any of the rest of us would go to for guidance.
Oh. One last thing. I hate to be the guy to tell you this, but you should know: a long-hair combover still looks like a combover.