Vegetarianism, and my conflicted feelings.

As I stood at the market stall running my hands across what used to be a coyote's face, I recalled my days as a vegetarian, and what it was that made me turn to the green side, and back.

I wont bore you with the details of how I became finger deep in the eyeball-holes of a fur trinket. Suffice to say that I was at a market stall at a medieval festival. I don't mind if you're considering laughing at me for going to a medieval festival, probably its an indication of why we don't talk much. (Please note, I am fully aware that I should be laughed at for visiting a medieval festival and the previous comment was purely in jest. Like a jester. At a medieval festival?) Also note that I am not entirely sure whether it was a real coyote's face, or a fake one. Although one must question the sanity of someone making a fake coyote-face-fur. Certainly all of the fur looked genuine. Perhaps I am being naive.

Anyway.
It was a stark reminder of the way I used to/kind of still feel about animals, and vegetarianism. Certainly I am opposed to fur, fundamentally I don't mind things like leather because the animals aren't being killed for their skin, they are killed for other purposes (we'll get to that) and the leather is a byproduct and might as well be used.

But when I was a vegetarian, I based my reasoning on that I thought it was the morally right thing to do. I mean, it's not fair, is it. Killing animals for our own sustinance when we can perfectly well get by without ever having to harm one.

Here, of course, comes the problem, and exactly why I don't think I can ever be a vegetarian again. There is no point. Being a vegetarian solves nothing. We're still milking cows all day, and keep battery hens for eggs.

Sorry to digress, but here is an alarming fact.
Almost 80% of eggs bought by people in supermarkets are free range. Now that's a good thing, right?
Yes it is, but we still have countless battery hens facilities in place because pretty much everything pre-made that uses eggs: cakes, breads, quiche, dough, sauces, condiments etc etc etc, are made with battery eggs.
This needs to change.

Anyway.
Vegetarians still eat dairy and eggs, thus nullifying any good they would do by not killing cows and chickens to be eaten, because even if you argue that we could just keep the chickens for eggs, but not kill any, that makes virtually 50% of the chickens born (the males) utterly useless, and they would be culled at birth, and the same for cows. You have solved nothing. As for pigs, who serve no commercial purpose other than to die and be delicious, they would practically become extinct.

Being vegan is the answer. Only suddenly it's not so easy to convince those vegetarian's who like a nice bit of cheese, or a cup of tea with milk, or some scrambled egg in the morning.

If the world decided it could cure world poverty and starvation by going vegan then sign me up, but until then, I'll enjoy my cereal without having to put some cardboard-flavoured soya rubbish on it.

By the way, I have neglected to include in this discussion, the vegetarian sub-group of "I don't eat any meat, but I eat fish".
I have left them out because this is the worst possible type of vegetarian.
Chickens, cows, pigs and lambs are farmed. Farmed to be eaten.
Fish are born free. (I know some are farmed, so shut up)

If you disagree with anything I've said, please comment. I like to argue; I like to discover new ways that I'm still right.

Proud.

Another year passes, and Pride has come to Brighton. And I'm missing it. Again.
The reason that I am not attending is because I have found myself to be very much like an old man.

No, not because I am a brainless bigot and I can't accept that homosexuality is a natural, biological occurance, and not a choice made purely to antagonise society.

I am missing Pride because I have a bad back.

It has been a while since I've been, and all of the times I've missed it, I would have gone if I could. I won't bore you with the details.

However, Pride is an interesting time in Brighton. It is interesting because it is something that is associated with Brighton across the UK. Brighton is known as the "gay capital of Britain".

What this tends to mean is that whenever you go anywhere that isn't Brighton, and say, "I'm from Brighton", you are asked, almost instinctively "are you gay?"

To answer that question, allow me to quote you the 2001 census, which admittedly is 9 years of date, but you'll get over it.

1.29% of households in Brighton are same-sex. That's right, 1.29%. Not 100.29%. Not even 12.9%. 1.29%.
It's difficult to tell how many people are gay, because it's a dificult thing to define before you bring in bi-sexuals, or bi-curiousity. But estimates suggest between 8 and 13% of Brighton is gay.

Don't get me wrong, that's very high. Wolverhampton, for example, has a percentage of gay people in the minus numbers. The standard across the UK is 2-3%. Note, these numbers are highly debatable.

Nevertheless, that means there is an 87-92% chance that I am not gay.
Possibly the fact that I'm wearing a Power Rangers t-shirt and own 2 seperate Backstreet Boys albums reduces that percentage considerably, but it's still a bit unfair.

Not everyone in Brighton is gay, I can confirm that now. The one's that are, in my experience, tend to be good people with infinitely more good character than those people who would torment them for their sexuality.

However, I feel a little guilty just saying that. Putting theall gay people in the same category, as if a single characteristic like that defines the rest of their personality. I don't do this, for example, for people with green eyes, or taste in literature. I'll do my best not to do it in future.

I hope Pride goes great.