I bought eating animals even though I eat animals. I’ve eaten a lot of animals: elk, chicken, salmon, shark, cow, buffalo. check. but jonathan safran foer is kind of my literary hero: he writes books (everything is illuminated, extremely loud and incredibly close) that make me laugh loudly on public transportation, reevaluate my identity, and go through tissue boxes. sometimes they even have funny pictures. anyways, point: I didn’t read eating animals with the intention of not eating animals. I like my dogs. I like cows. one sleeps in my bed. the other sleeps in a slaughterhouse. so goes the circle of life. and jonathan safran foer gets me. he’s not peta stun-gunning me over the head with vegetarianism. he just seems to be saying: here I am, using my literary awesomeness to tell you about factory farming. now what are you going to do about it? I didn’t want to do anything about it. but he crept in my head, and I’ve ordered three weeks of veggie burgers since I turned the last page. I’m not a vegetarian. I think. I’m also just not eating animals. anyways, it’s a literary version of the omnivore’s dilemma. I endorse. As does natalie portman.
