To Meat or not to Meat?

It is a milestone in my life, as I celebrate my second vegitanniversary. I'm thinking of having a party where everybody comes as their favourite vegetable, and we all share pot-luck vegetable dishes. It will be another thing I can strike off my list as I move towards creating, one day, my vegetopia.

And I really fancy having a rare steak to celebrate.

I'm not a strict vegetarian. I am in fact, a pescetarian. I eat fish. Not that much. But I do eat fish. So I'm not a vegetarian. Don't make me feel more guilty than I already am.

I'm quite a happy vegetarian. I never really bothered so much with meat when I did eat it. It was expensive, usually tasteless, and what I ask you is a Chicken Breast-stick. Can that possibly taste good, indeed can it actually, legally, be labelled meat? Probably not. But the level of blindness to what's good for you and not, as meat eaters is so acute that it's simply not worth asking the questions, bceause nobody is willing to see the answers.

And yet, I still feel like a having a rare steak.

But I'm waiting for the right time. I'm waiting until I am at a BBQ on the pacific (or caribbean) ocean, at sunset, dancing with a beautiful stranger, passing around the Vino and the Bong, and then finally, a delicioulsy prepared indigenous dish, prepared by the blind mama-makeba in a receipe handed down over generations.

And what's important here, is not that I'm eating 'meat'. It could be that Makeba's receipe is fish based. What's important is the history I'm writing myself into, and finding myself part of. More noble than the current history which is, we will be remembered as inhumane beak-rippers, genetic-f*ckers, Ecoli-munching,Cameron-voting demigods. So until my local Iceland, or PFC (always makes me think of PVC) in Hackney can enter into the tradition of substance, and meaning, I'm content to save my 1.99 towards that trip to St. Kitts, or Trinidad, where I know my Makeba miracle is waiting.