Chances are, if you're hosting a holiday feast this year, you probably won't think twice about the feathered fowl at the center of the table. We here at PETA urge you to take a moment to pontificate on the ethics of that brave bird. Rather than gorging your gullet, why not caress the carcass at your Thanksgiving repast? Once you've communed with your meat, you'll find it's impossible to consume cooked corpse. And that's a good thing! True, it's too late for poor, basted Kevin, but some future turkey will thank you for the freedom—if you turn your ear to the wind, you'll hear their ghostly gobbles of gratitude, launching backward in the space-time continuum.
And you should know that you are not alone in your conversion. For either ethical or health reasons, many people are making the switch to a vegetarian or vegan (vegetarian minus the eggs, dairy products, and other animal products) diet. Take it from me: Once you try yease, you'll forget all about cheese!
We here at PETA are committed to growing the ranks of the ethically pure by encouraging people to consider the vegan path through life, usually by convincing thin young women to take their clothes off in public as part of some sort of protest or another. Sure, naysayers may kvetch about the ongoing objectification of women and resulting damage to the self-worth of impressionable young girls, but what's the mental health of one-half of a species when compared to the ritualized torture and consumption of literally thousands of species around the world?
I'd like to take this moment to congratulate The Stranger for not just running your humble correspondent's missive in this Thanksgiving-week paper, but also my fellow vegan DAVE SEGAL's review of a vegan deli. As Segal writes: "Vegetable tempura is the new tortilla chip." Truer words have never been spoken, my meatless man-at-arms!
I wish I could share such praiseful prose for the rest of The Stranger, but the positivity stops with Segal's restaurant review. Segal even arouses my ire in the music section by having the temerity to recommend a record by a singer with the butcher-friendly name of—ugh!—Captain Beefheart. Why not preview an upcoming show by an act called Cannibal Cal and the Delicious Human Flesh Band while you're at it, traitor?
And consider GOLDY's review of Avenue Q, which doesn't mention the fact that all the puppets are swaddled from fingertips to elbow in—ugh!—fur. Even though the puppet fur in Avenue Q is most likely composed of synthetic fiber, it still sends a bad message to the impressionable theater-going public: If something as innocuous as a puppet can wear fur, then why can't a human? The responsible thing for Goldy to do would be to boycott Avenue Q entirely, or perhaps send a squadron of young models to disrobe in the lobby as part of a photo-op protest (leaving on their faux-leather high heels and cruelty-free makeup, of course). Wait a minute—that's a great idea! I'm going to start organizing that right away. Man, I sure do love naked women.
