RDH - Living High Off the Hog without Looking Like a Pig, or The Role of Virtuous Behavior in an Empire of Unprecedented Excess

Living High Off the Hog without Looking Like a Pig, or The Joy of Virtuous Behavior in a Land of Over-the-Top Excess

March 21, 2007

The number of full-time vegetarians in the United States has grown significantly within the last fifty years, helped in part by the growth of an economic and cultural climate in which the vast majority of meals are determined by choice rather than dictated by need. During that same period, the number of animals slaughtered for consumption by United States citizens has skyrocketed out of all proportion to any shifting preferences for or against meat. What this means—besides the fact that human beings are maniacs who, given a free market, will don business attire and negotiate the production and sale of every last commodity that can possibly see the light of day, even if the means of production must remain hidden to the rest of the world like so many tailless pigs in a windowless pork-rendering facility—is that adhering to a vegetarian diet doesn't send an especially strong and compelling "be like me" message to carnivores. What it does accomplish, however, is something more subtle. By cloaking the vegetarian in a self-proclaimed mantle of virtue, the act of avoiding the consumption of meat allows the more sensitive among us to continue to enjoy life guilt-free, for the most part, amidst the carnage.

Vegetarianism is but one approach. There are several others:

1. Vote liberal and, even more important, let people know you vote liberal. This single step is so important that it can—for those of us who are short of time or not all that interested in the plight of those less fortunate than us—kill all the gnawing birds of guilt with a single stone, like some triumphant, latter-day Tippi Hedren.

"Just whose side are you on here, Mr. Harper?" I'm on your side, especially if you agree that one way to survive these days is to practice a sort of virtuous nihilism in a world that is spinning out of control.

2. Drive a Japanese or Swedish hatchback or sedan or gas/electric hybrid or a very old subcompact; add lots of bumper stickers supporting, for example, responsible coffee consumption or the vegan lifestyle. We are—in an almost perfect correlation—what we drive; therefore, this step, like step number 1, can be treated as a kind of catch-all. But be warned: there's nothing to stop closeted right-wingers, looking to assuage their guilt or to widen their circle of acquaintance, from acquiring a liberal-looking car as a sort of ruse.

3. Ride a well-used bicycle. If you ride a bicycle rather than drive a car, all the better: but be sure to make a spectacle out of your decision. Install a headlight at the very least. Consider investing in a battery-free, motion-powered flashing LED system. But to make your status as a full-time bicyclist more obvious, even during daylight, install at least one handlebar-mounted rear-view mirror, and wear a metal clip for your chain-side pants leg. Forget to remove the clip when you're done riding. To ensure that people see "liberal viewpoint" and not "obsessive jock," never wear up-to-date cycling shorts or other expensive gear. And if you can't ride an older or nondescript bike, use a rasp to scrape up your frame.

4. Whenever the subject of food is raised, talk about high-fructose corn syrup and how you try to avoid it. This one is a safe bet because it's almost impossible these days, at least in the United States, to entirely avoid high-fructose corn syrup without practicing full-time vigilance. Just letting people know that you are trying to avoid it will come across as admirable. Most of us, if pressed, will have to admit that we stopped checking for its presence about four months after we first became disgusted by how artificially fertilized corn—heavily subsidized by the American government thanks to measures enacted on Nixon's watch and made sweeter and longer-lasting thanks to the efforts of Japanese scientists—has made its way into nearly every last corner of our diet like some kind of nanorobotic parasite.* At the very least, you should concede that you know that the stuff is bad and that you should be trying to avoid it. For one thing, coming out against high-fructose corn syrup will convey your guilt over what happened to the Native American population in the wake of European expansion across North America—albeit in an extremely subtle way.†

5. Profess, if it comes up, to being undecided about omega 3 fatty acids. This one is also a slam dunk. By saying that you are undecided, you can (a) advertise that you are well aware of the latest findings but that (b) (and this is the one that puts you firmly in the camp of the virtuous) you are concerned about toxic levels of mercury and other substances at the highest end of the marine food chain and, furthermore, (c) (and this one, too, is money in the bank) you would rather we returned to the preindustrial practices that ensured, for example, and leaving aside the superiority of a hunter-gatherer diet, a better ratio of several omega fatty acids in the meat of pasture-fed cows. Not only are you virtuous, you are in fact too good to be expected to live as well as you ought to in the postindustrial cesspool that passes for modern civilization.

6. When the war in Iraq is mentioned, try to maintain a solemn, studied silence. There's really nothing that can be done about what's been done, and talking about it may only make it worse—especially in the presence of those who have actually had to play a direct role in the conflict. Besides, as long as there are people in the world who are so spiritually impoverished that they actually care what religion you or anyone else practices or doesn't practice, there's little hope for humanity.

That covers the major bases. Next time we will outline mechanisms for surviving as a meat-eating badass in a world whose discourse seems to be too often permeated by the high-minded cant of arty liberal types.

*When talking about high-fructose corn syrup, avoid the initialism HFCS (aitch-ef-cee-ess).

†The connection will perhaps be clarified by the reminder that, to produce high-fructose corn syrup and therefore take one more step toward satisfying humanity's bottomless appetite for inexpensive, individually packaged foods, corn—i.e., Indian corn or maize—has been altered according to the principles of the scientific method and with the enthusiastic support of corporate America. Now recall the European appetite for new frontiers and the associated penchant for applying a brand of rational certitude as a wedge into the unknown, and the connection between high-fructose corn syrup and the experiences of the American Indian population in the last five hundred years should come clear.