Who Speaks For Wolf

The Fourth Animal Advocacy Movement

Okay, I've been reading Erik Marcus' book, "Meat Market" and it makes a lot of salient points about how neither the vegetarian movement nor the animal rights movement nor the animal welfare movement have all the tools necessary to dismantle factory farming.  He makes a very persuasive argument for a fourth movement which he calls "dismantlement".  Marcus advocates casting a wide net in order to get as many people as possible involved in bringing down the factory farm industry.  Small farmers, vegetarians, parents, kids, people concerned about their health.  One doesn't need to be a vegetarian to want to see the end of factory farming.  I think Marcus' approach has real possibilities for change but more on that later.

In following Marcus' advice about making people aware of factory farming but not necessarily pushing for vegetarianism I am trying to get my friends to buy an organic, free-range turkey for their Thanksgiving festivities.  So, I found a store in Toronto called "The Healthy Butcher".  I think it's great that they are rejecting the factory farm, looking at the welfare of animals and trying to offer a more humane, healthier cut of meat.  But, as a person who would love to see the end of using animals for food, it's REALLY hard for me not to regard their slogan, "Passion for Food.  Passion For Life." as disingenuous.  "Passion for Life" is juxtaposed against a meat pot pie of some sort.  Seems to me, the passion of that life is long gone.  Regardless of how humanely an animal is treated, if we send her to slaughter there is no passion for life on our behalf.  The slogan should really be "Passion For Food.  Passion for Human Life." 

Geez...this tolerant, don't advocate veganism at every turn is gonna kill me inside isn't it?

It's Time to Slow Down

I'm sick at home with some sort of cold/flu/fever - choose your virus.  The cloggy head and dripping nose are far from relaxing but being laid up has made me realize something.  Well...not exactly realize it because I guess we all know this on some level but it certainly crystallized it for me. 

We're all living life too fast. We have a million things on the go and the only time we ever slow down is when our body screams at us "STOP!!" with flashing sore throats and siren muscles.  I know something's wrong when I actually WELCOME the breakdown of my immune system because it finally gives me permission to slow down for a little bit...to do absolutely nothing.

Why do we all feel so guilty when we're sick? How many of us have dragged ourselves to jobs we don't care about to the detriment of our health and that of others to assuage that damn Protestant work ethic that still clings to us like some stale odour from a long-forgotten sweater finally recovered from the closet?  Why do we feel we're failing when we're not juggling a zillion balls

in the air? It's become a badge of honour to say, "I only got 3 hours of sleep last night" or "I didn't get home 'til 3:00 a.m." or "I have 18 projects on the go." And those of us who actually get 8 hours of shut-eye or have an evening free or talk to our mothers feel like we're the ones in the shallow end of the gene pool wearing an inflatable alligator around our waists.

I don't think these moments of slow that illness allows us should be an exception; I think slowing down should be mandatory. Granted, on top of my sickness, I'm also reading "In Praise of Slow"...which is bad...'cos I really should just be doing nothing but I can't DO that. Even just sleeping really annoys me. It seems so boring...plus the sickness seems to pack extra clogging power when I'm horizontal.  See?  Sleep boring?  What kind of crazy talk is that?  Sleep essential?  That sounds better, Grasshopper.

We've been living in our new house for over a month and I never noticed that the fireplace in my room right beside my bed is flecked with red streaks through the green marble.  It's quite striking really but I couldn't have told you anything about that side of the room a few days ago.  Never looked.  Never had time to even notice the room in which I sleep everynight.  (Lest my dear readers mistake the preceding description as proof that I reside in a golden palace with fireplaces in every room complete with attendant chimney sweeps, I will add that we are a house of many thereby making virtually every room a bedroom by default). And doesn't this make it all the more pathetic?  To have the NOVELTY of a fireplace in one's room and never notice a thing about it?  Contract a virus my friends and take to your bed!  You will discover all sorts of details about your surroundings that may have escaped you the first 1000 sleeps.

At any rate, the Slow Food Movement described in "In Praise of Slow" seemed to me the most concrete way of getting people to truly slow down in an immediately tangible way.  We choose a day a week or a month to come home, cook from scratch and sit around the table and actually talk to each other, no DVD's, no games, just good food and good company.  We invite other friends and neighbours to get to know them better and, as an added bonus, we show them that vegan food can be delectable and mouth-watering. 

Now that I'm starting to regain my health, I'm still trying to hold onto this idea of slow.  Don't run for the subway.  Don't crowd the streetcars.  There will be another one.  Don't run across the street narrowly escaping traffic.  There's time.  There's always time.  Look up at the sky through the concrete grid.  Stop and fish out a quarter for the girl on the streetcorner with the stretched sweater and bowl-cut hair.  Stop walking so fast (I always walk too fast).  I haven't worn a watch now since we made the move...to be honest I've misplaced it.  But, it's great.  Who knew you could be everywhere you needed to be without a watch?  Remarkable.  Free the wrist.  Time is just another concept but goddamnit does it ever have a vise grip on us. 

Okay, now stop writing this post.  It's time.

Image Credit: ~§سـحــ العـيـــون ـــر§ ~