Monday, April 27, 2009
"Addicted to Plastic"
Simple Eating

After I posted my paper on 'simple living,' in our meeting on Friday, Davis brought up the question of how eating fits into my prescription. How does one maintain a healthy and satisfying diet while living simply?
Sunday, April 26, 2009
The Ethics of Roadkill Dining
One particularly memorable experience he had was with a group of people who, to fulfill their daily protein requirement, dine exclusively on roadkill. This was fascinating for me to read about, and actually resulting in the reconsideration of my personal vegetarian values. I may have to now refer to myself a "lacto-roadkill-vegetarian."
I've been a vegetarian in various degrees for about six years. I chose this "lifestyle choice" for a number of reasons. First and foremost is because I refuse to support factory farms - I refuse to dignify the maltreatment of animals with my dollar. I have absolutely no problem with other people eating meat - as long as it is from local farms who have treated their animals humanely. You will never hear me trying to sell another person on vegetarianism - at most, I will implore them to choose their meat selections wisely (go local!). The more people who support local animal raisers and butchers, the better. I choose not to eat happy, local animals myself simply because I just am uncomfortable with putting the flesh of an animal, that was raised for slaughter, in my body. The few times I have been persuaded to try a bite of a local, grassfed beef steak, I feel guilty for days after, the face of an unnamed heifer haunting my mind with her sad, soulful eyes. I can't make myself do it in good conscious - but as I said, it's totally a personal thing. I would encourage others to eat good meat instead of shy away from all of it. I don't think I get enough protein as it is. If others can eat a good meal, get the necessary nutrients, and feel good about it, then go for it!
But then I read about the niche individuals who dine on roadkill. It got me thinking.
Consider the roadkill. You can't get more free-range than critters living on their own in the wilderness. They're also 100% organic, and as local as made possible by their own furry little legs. Not being raised by humans, they would undoubtedly be free of growth hormones, monocultured corn crop silage, and antibiotics. All things considered, before that SUV or jeep bombing down the road led to their untimely death, the pre-mortum roadkill must have had pretty great lives, living in the wild as they're supposed to.
This all sold me on the health and sustainability aspects. As far as the moral/ethical side of this goes, here's what I think:
1) Someone else killed the animal. I didn't do it. I didn't want it to happen. Whereas purchasing a t-bone steak would support the consumer demand for meat, thereby meaning I indirectly killed an animal/caused it to die, picking up a dead animal from the side of the road isn't going to encourage more cars to hit and kill more animals. There's no market for roadkill.
2) I believe in honoring animals. How better to honor them then to save them from a humilating decomposing on the roadside, and putting their full bodies to use? Their deaths will not be worthless - in death, they can give others life.
3) Unlike in feedlots, "survival of the fittest" actually happens in the wilderness. I would be eating the dumber, less fit animals. The smarter, fitter ones would continue to live on and prosper away from the highway.
And what variety: deer, rabbits, raccoons, squirrels, skunks, various birds - maybe even larger quadruped mammals in you're lucky/they're unlucky.
So we shall see. Next time I'm driving down Route 3 and I see a poor dead creature on the side of the road, maybe (if I can convince who ever's driving) I'll pick 'er up and make a true scavenger dinner.
Thursday, April 23, 2009
Prescriptions
Prescription For Living
“Our life is frittered away by detail; simplify, simplify.” Henry David Thoreau’s words here can truly be thought of as a prescription for living, for everyone. What is important in this life is pure, unadulterated, and austere. As a society, though, we have come to forget this, and instead have crowded into our lives a world of complexity and superfluity. We convince ourselves that we need this excessive amount of detail, so we continually add more and more, until we have shrouded our lives in a veil of addendums and falsehood. We are left with superficiality and have no memory or awareness of the simplicity and genuineness of true living.
In today’s world, we have come to believe that objects, what we own, is what makes us content. We rely upon what we can buy, spend money on, waste time on, to keep us happy. As a result of this dependence, we are in perpetual want. We always want more. The desire for more overwhelms and overshadows what we actually need. We forget the necessities of life, in favor of accumulating the luxuries. We judge our happiness by our property. We regard the man with the Porsche, the uptown mansion, the bimonthly vacations to the Bahamas, and the seven-plus digit bank account as being the epitome of happiness. The less well-endowed community amuses itself with its laptops, video games, high-end clothing, and fast food binges. But no matter what we have, we always feel that we would be happier with more. We believe we will never know true happiness until we have accumulated the maximum in money and objects. The grass is always greener: it doesn’t matter how much we gain, we will always want more than what we currently have.
We need to realize that objects are not what makes us happy. The acquisition or loss of an Abercrombie sweater or a PlayStation 2 will not make or break our lives! These things, because that is truly all they are, are not necessary. We do not need them. In fact, they only add to the confusion. The details like this don’t augment our lives, they clutter them. We get too caught up in the muddle of detail, and are drawn away from what is real, and simple. It is only when we strip away all this detail that is cluttering our lives that we are left with what we need, and what will truly make our lives worth living. Happiness results from simplicity. To live well, remove all unnecessary things that disarray your lives. Live with what you need, not what you think you want.
What do you need in life? The basics: food, water, shelter. But you don’t need them in excess. You should have only the amount that you require, nothing more, such as Thoreau describes, “Instead of three meals a day, if it be necessary eat but one; instead of a hundred dishes, five; and reduce other things in proportion.” This is how such necessities should be approached.
Fill your life with people and your relationships with them. The people are what really enrich our lives. Other people is what is important. Surround yourself with relationships, not objects. Objects will get you nowhere; people will. Humans are what we are because we connect to others. It’s our nature to associate with other people, build bonds, share emotions, communicate. You can’t connect with an object. An object won’t talk to you, respond to you, show you love. They’re inanimate; they’re not real. You can’t create a relationship with them. So why busy yourself with something that will never give you anything in return? Instead, use your efforts on people. But quality, not quantity, rules: otherwise, it just returns to the “always wanting more” philosophy, and that is exactly what we are striving to avoid. The amount of people in your life is not important, the significance lies in the essence of the affiliation. Remember that people are what’s real; relationships are the most absolute, natural, age-old establishment. There is nothing truer or simpler than the link between humans.
“Why should we live with such hurry and waste of life? We are determined to be starved before we are hungry. Men say that a stitch in time saves nine, and so they take a thousand stitches today to save nine tomorrow,” Thoreau continues. To truly enjoy life, we all just need to slow down and live it. It’s impossible to be content if all your time is spent worrying about the future. Concerning yourself wholly with tomorrow means that you’ll completely miss today. Living in the moment is what it comes down to. Stop and smell the roses, or else they’ll wilt and die before you ever give them a second glance.
This is all that life will give to you. To make the most of it, simplify your life so you don’t get bogged down by detail. Focus your energy on your relationships, not your objects, because in the end, people are what matter. Finally, live in the moment; live for today. Life is about the journey, not the destination.
Tuesday, April 21, 2009
Apostrophe to Man

Detestable race, continue to expunge yourself, die out.
Breed faster, crowd, encroach, sing hymns, build
bombing airplanes;
Make speeches, unveil statues, issue bonds, parade;
Convert again into explosives the bewildered ammonia
and the distracted cellulose;
Convert again into putrescent matter drawing flies
The hopeful bodies of the young; exhort,
Pray, pull long faces, be earnest,
be all but overcome, be photographed;
Confer, perfect your formulae, commercialize
Bacateria harmful to human tissue,
Put death on the market;
Breed, crowd, encroach,
expand, expunge yourself, die out,
Homo called sapiens.
-Edna St. Vincent Millay
Monday, April 20, 2009
Another Spectrum of Paradigms, Perhaps?
---Traditional
|(those who have been farming sustainably
| because that's just "how it's done")
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---Revolutionary
(those who rebel against the current industrial
system, and aim to return to sust. farming)
Spirituality
Most farmers I know, while perhaps not practicing a common religion, have some inherent sense of spirituality, and it comes forth when they are farming. I've noted that a lot of the farmers I've met seem to have some variant of Christian undertones to their personal spirituality. I don't know why; it's not something that I feel altogether comfortable approaching them about. Perhaps it's Biblical land stewardship, maybe it's being grateful to God for bestowing the means to feed ourselves. I don't know, but I'd love to know more about the spirituality of the farmer.
My family of farmers is somewhat different. My mother claims to have some paganistic beliefs, while my father describes himself as a filthy heathen. I consider myself to fall somewhere in between, but overall we're a family of atheists.
I don't believe in a God. I don't believe in multiple gods. There is no higher power, no greater spirit. There are people. People can be individuals, or they can operate as a common force by sharing values and goals. The phrase "something bigger than us," to me, isn't some sort of god, it is the entire population. Everybody working together, besides being some sort of idealism, is the only sort of greater governing force I can believe in.
I have immense respect for the earth. I respect the soil, the water, the air. I respect the plants and animals. The earth and all of its constituents are what allows us, humans, to have life. How you can lack respect for what keeps you alive? My mother undoubtedly has a much closer relationship with, and thus greater respect for, the earth. She works the land: she farms it. She reaps what she can sow (figuratively and literally), and it is all made possible by what the earth provides her with.
I understand the intense relationship between farmer and earth. I do not experience it firsthand much, but I respect it, condone it, encourage it. The relationship can be spiritual.
I like farming and food systems because they are real. Food is physical, tangible, and scientifically explainable. I like agriculture because it is only possible/successful through a combination of scientific logic and passion. You can thank God for giving you a good corn crop this season; I prefer to thank the farmer for putting the right combination of skill, wisdom, and care into his field.
I don't want to save the world. I want to save my piece of it. Everyone should save their piece of the world. There's no point in me working to save the whole thing unless everyone else wants, and tries to do, the same thing.
and technology. But another is through integrated (emotional, mental,
physical, and spiritual) growth and enhanced wisdom. This means
growing in our sense of connection with nature and one another and
learning to live in ways that naturally cultivate our capacity to be human.
-Peter Senge
Friday, April 17, 2009
One More Link
Thursday, April 16, 2009
Works Cited (Thus Far)
- Salatin, Joel. Everything I Want to Do Is Illegal. Virginia: Polyface Inc., 2007.
- Salatin, Joel. Holy Cows & Hog Heaven. Virginia: Polyface Inc., 2004.
- Smith, Alysa and J.B. Mackinnon. Plenty. New York: Harmony Press, 2007.
Spectrums
Tuesday, April 14, 2009
"Everything I Want to Do Is Illegal"

Joel Salatin wasn't kidding when he subtitled his book "War Stories from the Local Food Front." Halfway through the book and I'm already shocked and disgusted by all the bureaucratic bullshit involved with the legal/illegal side of farming. I don't know why I've never been more aware of all the ridiculous and unfair laws and regulations set forth by the government - I mean, I've definitely watched as our own farm encountered its own share of government annoyances, but never so devastating or infuriating as the horror stories Salatin speaks of.
Salatin's got some especially unfortunate experiences about dairy farms. I couldn't help but relate, just a little bit. The most frequently asked question I get at farmers market (after, of course, "Can you really milk a goat?" and "Do you have to kill the goat to get the cheese?") is "Is your cheese made from raw milk?" There are two different groups of people who ask this: the ones who are hoping that the answer is yes, and the ones who will cringe if the answer is anything but "of course not!" The first group consists of the children of the farmstand cheese movement and the cross-cultural types who have tasted the wonders of raw milk cheese in Italy and France. The latter group consists of the people who worship USDA regulations and trust the government wholeheartedly.
Anyway, the answer I always have to give is "By law, any cheese made in the US has to be pasteurized if aged under 60 days." This usually generate blank looks, so I then point out the hard cheeses, made from raw milk, and aged for more than 60 days, and then sweep my arm over the soft cheeses, the fresh ones made from pasteurized milk. You know what, though? No one ever asks me why we can't make raw milk cheese unless it's been aged for x amount of time. I highly doubt that this is because our customers don't want to bother us vendors with nitty gritty questions. No, I suspect its probably because of the the concept that Salatin references: "the government-can-fix-it mentality." Government says this is the way it's gotta be, okey dokey - they must just be looking out for us.
Hah.
Salatin has this great analogy to describe the arbitrariness of the licensing process. He creates a little story about what it might be like to try to get a license to have an active account on eBay - something everyone's familiar with. Some of the requirements would include: a license proving that you are qualified to operate your computer; fire marshall license proving that your computer cords are up to date; proof of building inspection so the structural soundness of the desk on which you computer sits is acceptable; government labeling verification that your description of the item you are selling is accurate... and so on and so forth. I thought this was a humorous and creative analogy to convey how ridiculous the bureaucratic element of farming is.
Salatin keeps reminding us of the "ends justify the means" idea. He says, if he is able to provide a safe, clean, healthy, nutritious, and good-tasting product in the end, who the hell cares what his infrastructure is? Why should he have to adhere to all this government regulation crap if, in the end, he puts forth a superior product. Salatin had an apprentice who was also conveniently a biology major compare one of his chickens to an industrially-produced chicken in terms of potentially harmful pathogens. Turns out, his chickens were 25 times cleaner than generic supermarket chicken. There is solid, scientific proof - and yet, USDA officials still give him crap about his wall-less poultry slaughtering facility - "unsanitary and adulterated." Geeze.