There is a definition of veganism that is particularly poignant to me, and makes up one aspect of my multi-faceted choice to abstain from all animal products; it is known as ‘bearing witness’. It is the idea that at each meal a vegan sits down to, particularly those meals that include omnivorous and ovo-lacto vegetarian dishes, the vegan is acting as a silent witness for those animals slaughtered and abused to create the delicacies laid out. I am fond of this take on the issue. I like to think that each meal I eat, even those where I do not say a word concerning the tidbits comprising my companion's meals (which is most meals), or even those meals I eat alone or with other vegans, that by refusing to consume torture and debasement I am acting as a reminder of those things. In my early vegetarian days and even early vegan days, I sought to make it clear that I did not want anyone to feel uncomfortable eating meat or dairy products in my presence. I have since reversed that. I want you to feel uncomfortable. I want my presence to make it so that you cannot block out the cruelties inflicted on the hunk of steaming flesh adorning your plate, I want you to be pushed closer to consciously examining the actions you take part in. Consciously examine the ways that you have previously blocked this out, and I want you to be one step nearer to conscious liberation from the cooing and coddling of the meat and dairy industry, the cooing and coddling that made it possible for you to ignore the feelings of what you've been eating for so long. Past that, I want you to think about the global impact of what you eat. I want you to research it yourself, to become a blazing beacon of passionate curiosity about how each decision you make affects the planet. If I can do this by making you uncomfortable meal after meal, so be it. Let the uncomfortableness begin.
I want to supplement this with two excerpts, unedited, from my journal. I don’t usually put raw emotional reactions up here, cause those are private. These I think can be shared.
1/1/09 Lucid
The mornings haul: 5 mandarin oranges, 3 blood oranges, 2 apples, 2 lilikoi, 4 dried persimmons, 2 roasted sweet potatoes
Total: Somewhere around one American Dollar
Other acquirements: Smells of slaughter and torture, fresh pure vegetables line one side and cold cramped cages stuffed to capacity the other. Light on leaves of light green lettuce and feet on blood, shit, piss of disregarded creatures. Cries go unheard through the barter of the flesh trade. Woman torches hair off dog carcass (one of 3) while daughter (about 3) plays nearby. Small wizened old woman tips garbage pail into cart, tipping still warm organs into the refuse of hooves, hair, intestine. Toads bulge inside net bags, a similarly enmeshed turtle paws the side of a shining white Styrofoam cage.
You are no different, America.
Cattle farms, chicken coops.
Pet your dog while you eat your steak.
Hypocrite.
1/2/09 Lucid
Today’s market run yielded: 5 apples, 6 bananas, 3 large 1 small roasted sweet potato
Total: About 10 kuai
Saw more small dogs today, the butchered kind.
Also saw rats both roasted and laid out freshly killed, two gophers, something that was either a ferret or a large kitten. A shop with extraordinarily painful looking metal traps in various sizes outside. Bowls filled with glistening hearts grace the cage tops of their corresponding animals. Conical wicker cages the last housing for dirty, cramped fowl. Shops are two tiered. In the front, lining the street, iron cages cage birds 20 to every 4 square feet. Animals, feet bound still alive, are weighed while eyes roll and throats cry. Behind, inside three walls and a roof, the holding pens. Flocks huddle, waiting to be chosen for death and de-feathering. Women sit inside with the flocks, over bowls of dingy water plucking down from wings and breast. A motorbike, two breathing ducks strapped to the back, rumbles past.
The Nazis, at least, never ate their victims.
I want to make it clear that my opinion of these Southern Chinese markets is not any lower than my opinion of the meat and dairy industry in America. In fact, quite the opposite. At least the people here deal directly with their food. Go to the market, see the conditions with their eyes, handle the still warm and struggling creatures (or, rather, ‘food’) with their own hands and hearts and psyches. Most Americans, most large city dwellers in fact, are so utterly removed from this process that the closest they come to their food is plastic wrapped hunks of once warm flesh cooling in the local deli section. I would also like to clarify the fact that I made mention of the dogs and other small creatures more than I do the pigs, cows, pheasants, chickens, ducks, and fish because I am unused to seeing them. Not because I find their slaughter and consumption anymore cruel. I know some readers will be more upset to hear about these animals being treated in such a way, and I want those of you this feel that way to consider why some animals are OK to abuse and kill and eat, and others are not. If you realize that you feel that way because that is the way you were raised, because that is what big daddy culture told you, you are one step closer to living and consuming consciously. The next step is to plumb within yourself, and decide if you agree or disagree with what you've been told.
If anybody would like links to more information about veganism, or about ways that you can make a healthy transition in your life, here are some to peruse:
In addition to those information pages, I myself read (these are only a few of my addictions...)
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