Tree huggers and fish kissers, Enviro-Whiners all, are bleeding heart Luddites who would unhesitatingly scourge other individuals' flesh to coddle a dozen owls. They blithely ignore ten thousand unemployed loggers and a moribund lumber industry dooming the economies of two entire states. They weep into their granola and contemptuously gulp their Beano, decrying the heinous atrocity of meat consumption that puts the muscle into manly men and consuming sexual frenzy into real women. Educated efforts to create through recombinant DNA techniques the custom-designed organisms necessary to efficiently lend succor to civilization and minimize the inaesthetic contingencies implicit therein are virtuously damned as being against (their) God's will, the Rifkin Syndrome. "We refuse to kill anything with a face, except for fellow human beings!" is their battle cry.
Dr. Schund, consumed within the rapture of a gourmet realization of the power and majesty of unbridled gastronomic ascendancy, pauses at the risk of great personal sacrifice to momentarily abandon a slab of exquisite aged Kobe beef to clarify muddy waters. He offers a trifling pirouette of his mind and rejoins his dinner with relish. Heed his thoughts.
The killing of meat organisms is the problem lodged in the gullets of vegan fanatics. Even road kills are viewed with disdain, products as they are of violence meted out by contrived mechanism. They have no quarrel with vultures like the condor or Ted Kennedy who enjoy the carrion bounty of Nature's handiwork. We need seek no further than a catalog of spontaneously occurring genetic anomalies to furnish animal husbandry with the germ plasm to naturally breed the obvious solution to the vegan objection. We will also require an abandoned drive-in movie theatre, a crane, and some dump trucks.
A wealth of aberrant metabolisms, developmental deviations, bizarre somatic morphologies, and lethal behavioral permutations have been cataloged by breeders. Anything short of an actinic white horse with pin feathers has been discovered, logged, and its semen and ova possessing the genetic trait preserved in liquid nitrogen. Let us thaw the appropriate elements and select over several generations for the full amplification and expression of those desired traits. There will be no recombinant DNA here, just reproduction as God ordained - and a slew of it!
Imagine an abandoned drive-in movie theatre on a weeknight when the swap meet traffic is stilled. We lead in a thousand head of cattle and their personal trainers, councilors, social workers, and therapists. The screen glows as a thousand horned heads rise in anticipation. Displayed on the silver screen, the product of the most advanced cinematic special effects and computer-simulated realities worthy of Avatar, is the murder of a beef by a sledgehammer bludgeoning. Boom-thunk! "Mooooo-oof!"
Specially and specifically bred for a unique cognitive intolerance and a lethal cardiovascular dysfunction, all thousand cattle immediately and naturally go into psychological shock and die of heart failure. Quick as we are about it, they had no time to suffer the pangs of desire for a quick trip to the refreshment stand. Utterly humane, completely effective, and purely ecological, our future hamburgers and sirloin steaks are loaded by crane into dump trucks for the short trip to the local abbotoir, then disassembly, inspection, packaging, and storage therein. "This beef is government certified to have died a 100% natural death as stipulated by a cabal of scheming politically-connected evangelical vegan fanatics."
The obverse side of this pewter coin is compassionate carnivores' non-negotiable insistence that tomatoes and cabbages be truly dead prior to preparation. The unthinkable alternative is termination with extreme prejudice by crude dismemberment, Cuisinarticide or Vegematicization! Imagine a rutabaga or an apple, a living harbinger of an adult plant like Christ in His manger presaging the deliverance of all mankind boiled, baked, fried, sauteed, steamed, sun-dried (poor raisins!), microwaved, or roasted to death. Imagine crunching into a fresh green pepper and listening to it scream as your molars do their dirty work.
Unlike rabid vegan harpies vomiting their shrill condemnations into our ears as they masticate living organisms, Dr. Schund quietly eats food that is inanimate. He has a conscience.