The V-words, Part One: The Distant Future

At PEDA, we’ve batted the following scenario around for a while and we’re stumped. We’d like to hear your thoughts.

Basically, we’re on board with the understanding that eating animals and animal products is not healthy for humans (or animals). If you want to take issue with that, fine, but that’s not the question at hand here; it’s the premise.

So, if we take that a step further (and that’s what PEDA is all about: Taking an idea to its logical conclusion) we can assume that, as we move into the future, the effects of our dietary choices will unfold, with sociological and evolutionary repercussions. How, you ask?

A VEGAN FUTURE

Cancer, heart disease, diabetes and other associated conditions continue to claim more and more victims. The carnivores and the omnivores begin to die off, in higher numbers and at younger ages. The “pescatarians,” the “locavores,” the “flexitarians,” the “freegans”—all these variations on a theme of convenience—they, too, slowly dwindle away into extinction. Even the vegetarians don’t make it; too much dairy (and, let’s be honest, French fries and Oreos).

Mortality rates in all these groups rises, their numbers decrease and their diets become as laughably antiquated as quasi-collegiate white rappers like Asher Roth, Paul Barman or Sam Adams; or, say, the word “hyperlink.” Soon, nobody’s eating meat except for Anthony Bourdain and, oh, maybe Rush Limbaugh. And nobody’s eating butter or cheese except for Paula Deen.

Pause; wait two weeks. And there they go.

And that’s it. Eventually, all that’s left are the vegans.

And the vegans wake up one morning, take a look around and realize that they’ve won. The last and only humans remaining on the planet Earth are all vegans.

And, as a group, the last remaining surviving vegan humans all jump off a cliff, without a second thought. Because, seriously.

This is our quandary, friends: We all know vegetarians. We all know vegans. Many of them are good people. (They’re good to animals, that’s for sure.) But gee whiz, they can be uptight. And fruity? Come on. At most vegan/vegetarian restaurants, the clearest philosophical impression is that good design apparently contains bacon.

So what’s to be done? How can we make the image, the perception, the “brand” of the plant-based diet—and those who practice it—less insufferable and elitist? How can we make vegans seem more like humans? And how can we make humans like* vegans a little more?

* “Like” as in “like” and “like like,” that is.

The V-words, Part Two: Vegans

Herewith, we attempt to further a discourse, begun in an earlier futuro-mythological supposition, the crux of which is the outlining of a methodology for the transformation of vegans into people more bearable.

Change starts at home, certainly; again, that’s why PEDA is here. Among various other things, PEDA is all about giving all these deeply-entrenched philosophical ideas somewhat less lofty, serious and etched-in-stone treatment than they’re usually accorded. (It must be conceded that you can’t spell “pedagogy” without PEDA, ladies and gentlemen. FACT.)

And so, if you’re a vegan, we’d like to encourage you to lighten up for a goddamn change. We recognize that this may not be a necessary directive for all vegans, but let’s be frank: Statistically speaking, the odds are pretty good that if you’re a vegan reading this, you haven’t found it funny yet. We’d like you to take another crack at it.

The New Queen of Mean: Ms. Paula Deen

As many people are now aware, Southern chef and multi-millionaire Paula Deen announced in mid-January of this year that she’d been diagnosed with type II diabetes (that’s the really lousy kind). But, in what would almost seem an overt effort to pre-empt a sympathetic reaction from the world at large, Ms. Deen also confessed that she’d known about her condition for about three years.

So, we’re sort of in the middle here, right? We’ve got a well-known TV chef, (in)famous for offering up recipes and concoctions that even in moderation would be tough to incorporate into any normal human diet without seeing some physical pudging up; she announces that she’s got a chronic disease, based on her high-sugar, high-fat culinary regimen.

America: Oh, you poor thing.

Paula Deen: Hey, incidentally—are the cameras still on? Never mind, no big deal. Just wanted to mention that I’ve known about this for the last three years. Anyways, thanks for coming—tune in next week!

America: Wait. Three years?

Now, we here at PEDA are as sympathetic as the next person. Which means that when it comes to sympathizing with someone who’s making a pretty lucrative living by promoting to a massive audience the very diet that is, as the cameras roll, literally destroying her own body and health, well, we kind of cross our fingers and hope that the “next person” is, oh… Oprah? Or someone’s senile great-grandpa, maybe? Basically, anyone with an above-average capacity for the old knee-pat and “There, there” combo.

With all that in mind, we’ve run up a list of things Paula Deen might have been doing, during the three years she was keeping quiet about having type II diabetes, that kept her from getting around to spilling the (honey-glazed ham and) beans:

• Using her many years of culinary experience to develop healthier recipes that will help offset the physical effects of her previous recommendations on her millions of fans—and that, thanks to her tireless trial-and-error efforts, will still offer her fans many of the same flavors and ingredients they love.

• Conducting extensive experiments on the efficacy of injecting insulin into butter.

• Training for a marathon.

• Training for Iron Man.

• Training for Burning Man.

• Training for walking with a cane.

• Updating her conscience-soothing caveat to something with a little more humility and a little less buck-passing than “Honey, I’m your cook, not your doctor.”

• Deciding to take a chance on alienating her fan base and her advertisers by publicly admitting that she was wrong in advocating such unhealthy eating habits, dramatically changing her diet and hiring a nutritionist to participate in her show; waking up the next morning and chuckling to herself at the very idea.

• Lock down endorsement deal with pharmaceutical company that makes the diabetes treatment drug she uses.

• Eat donut-bacon-egg-cheeseburger. Check blood sugar. (Repeat until levels start to peak, then switch to standard burger.)

We at PEDA are all about finding common ground with our philosophical opposites; in that context, we’re on board with most of Anthony Bourdain’s comments about Paula Deen’s condition.

So we’ll continue to take with a grain of (finely ground sea) salt his comments about vegetarians/vegans; not only because we happen to agree with him in certain ways (mainly regarding the fancy-pants disdain and the coddle-my-needs attitude so often displayed by our plant-centric friends), but also in the spirit of speaking out against bad eating habits as a good idea in general.

We look forward to getting together with Mr. Bourdain over drinks, to explore further potential areas of overlap.

The V-words, Part Three: Vegetarians

Next up: vegetarians. Ready? Settle down. It ain’t all about you, either. Hell, the vegans think you’re half-assing it, and omnivores think you’re a pain in the ass. So you have two options:

1) Own it—take your stand and let the slings and arrows fall where they may. Cozy up in your ivory tower and turn up your nose at any and all who would dare offer you a salad as a satisfactory meat alternative. Lecture, admonish and silently judge. You may lose friends, but that’s a small price to pay for retaining the (relative) moral high ground. We’ll be glad to help you reconsider this approach when you get tired of listening to yourself.

2) Just chill out. Roll with the inevitable “grass-eater” jokes (you’ve already heard them all, anyhow) and, hey—come up with some of your own. It’s not rocket scientry, you know. Carrot-Top has been making up his own jokes for years; the bar is comfortably low. (Note: As a vegetarian, it may take a few tries before you’re able to be funny. But people love a good sport, so stick with it.)

The V-words, Part Four: Omnivores

Okay. Moving on to the omnivores: Hi, gang. We’d just like to ask for a little patience on your part. Accept the fact that your vegan or vegetarian friend, family member, co-worker or pain-in-the-ass in-law is still a person like you. You probably drive someone nuts with some habit of yours, right?

Well, maybe not that nuts, but still—a little give-and-take would be cool. All we’re saying is, think beyond a salad when your plant-eating pals come over. And go ahead and laugh at their pathetic jokes about meat eaters, even when (and this will pretty much always be the case) they’re not funny. (Note: Pretending to like their music is above and beyond, though; no need to bend over backward.)

The V-words, Part Five: The Cause (Man)

It’s important to recognize that—whether vegan or vegetarian—we’re still part of a minority group. And as cool as it is to be part of an oppressed community dedicated to “the struggle” toward a morally unimpeachable goal, blah blah blah, PEDA encourages you to try to keep in mind that other people believe things, too—including the 100% meatless and cruelty-free idea that being fun to be around is a positive trait.

So, vegans and vegetarians: Represent your demographic responsibly. You know how it feels when someone cuts you off in traffic—and there’s a bumper sticker on their car for the guy you just voted for, too? You’re driving that car. When you cut someone off (or lecture someone, or gripe, or whine, or pointedly refuse to laugh at a joke at the expense of animals), you’re making it tougher for us all. We’re not telling you to back down or compromise your principles; we’re just saying that you catch more flies with honey, honey.

(And while we’re on the subject, vegetarians, you could probably—again, statistically speaking—stand to lose a couple bumper stickers. Right? Be honest.)

Omnivores, vegetarians, vegans—we’re all in the same gang. The things that unite us vastly outnumber the things that divide us. So lighten up and find a little humor in this nonsense. Make a joke—and take a joke. With just a little self-awareness and empathy for one another, we can take the sting out of being preoccupied with a plant-based diet—and the stink out of the vegan archetype. (Seriously, people—patchouli incense? Still?)

Too Much Donkey Business.

Apparently, there’s a problem in east Texas with donkeys: Too many of them.

Anti-slaughter legislation (yay!) and a spike in hay prices (hay!) has led to a superfluity of these adorable critters; they’ve become too expensive to feed and too illegal to kill.* And so, they roam the streets of east Texas, like so many shaggy, four-legged hobos; shiftless, aimless and homeless, without a rail to ride or even a jaw harp to twang by the fire.

We bring up this situation because it provides yet another example of the problems that arise when animals and humans interact—particularly at high speed; to wit, this quote from David Roach, a local merchant:

“They don’t do well in front of a vehicle,” Roach said. “They tear your vehicle up when you hit them.”

We can only agree with Mr. Roach; tearing up the car that hits them is not doing well at all, for man or donkey. So it’s clearly a lose-lose proposition: The driver’s car is trashed, and the donkey has to go to its death with that guilt on its conscience.

And all this in a state whose motto is “Friendship.” Irony, your fruit has never been more bitter. Texas, your star has never looked more lonesome.

* Too Illegal to Kill © 1992, Steven Seagal [unproduced script treatment]