It is a curious case with a great number of pretentious idiots that,
at heart, seek attention to espouse borderline, yet still safe,
alternative cultures and then get real preachy about it for a while.
After they have used up the pretended morality and shock value they
quite suddenly switch to something else. This can be confusing for
people who are not as quick to change their deeply held convictions,
or for people who were on vacation or gone for a week or two and then
comeback to a new set of rules and outrages. The girl I was dating
was a fired up vegetarian with a constant stream of condescending
nagging for 'carnivores'. For the couple of weeks we were dating she
would feign disgust and loudly complain about people eating or using
animal products. It is endlessly entertaining to me to listen to
people complain about judgmental people as they, without a shred of
self-consciousness, lay on their personal public reckoning and
shaming. Hilarious. As is the case with almost all drive-by moralists
their convictions are only as deeply held as they are convenient and
one day after rock climbing the damn broke and feel-bads were hurt.
We had been up the canyon a few cities north and after a hard day of
climbing we stopped in to get some warm delicious slow roasted Arby's
signature thin sliced roast beef.
 |
| Dead and rotting animal parts that happen to taste amazing. |
She was fidgeting in her seat
eating her delicious vegetable-based meal while we went and ordered
our food. When we got to the table she started in on the
'you-are-eating-a-dead-animal' spiel that anyone with preachy
vegetarian friends will have heard. I pointed out that it was mush
safer and more humane to eat them after they were dead. She said she
just got sick thinking of the rotting meet in her stomach. My friend,
a man inexpert at suffering fools, started dramatically pointing out
that the napkins were also dead and the tomatoes and potatoes we were
dipping and consuming had also passed to the choir immortal and were
with all the pretty angels now. She preferred her judgment, as do
most bossy people, to be taken with a healthy dose of shame and
deference and not a bunch of sassy pridefully wicked comic rebuttals.
She was mad and that made the next part even harder for her. The
smell of the delicious Arby's roast beef penetrated her conveniently
held convictions and she casually picked up one of the sandwiches and
started to eat it. Ideally the capitulation and indulgence phase of
hypocrisy will happen in privacy to keep up the semblance of a facade
but the desire for a taste of dead and rotting animal was just to
great and she caved in. We, of course, let it slide and didn't tease
her endlessly about her sudden fall from her contrived moral high
horse to the depraved and exploitative hedonism of animal flesh
consumption. You know? Now that I think more carefully I remember
teasing her non-stop until she told us three to just f-word ourselves
and said she never wanted to talk to us again. She didn't stick with
that resolve but in hindsight I should have respected her wishes.
