Beware the Revolution

I want to start by talking about a growing threat that only a courageous few even acknowledge, let alone actively combat. There is a serious danger in our midst, and not enough of you are taking it seriously. I have spoken of this menace with many of you, and some have been sympathetic, and others respond with a rolling of their eyes, or barely-stifled snickers. But you know what? If I don’t help ensure that the consumption of beef remains a patriotic, nay, humanistic imperative, we will be overrun by dirty, smelly overlords. Do you want overlords? Because I sure as hell don’t.

It is your duty as a man – or a woman; ladies, now is not the time to hide behind your domestic duties, your laundry, your soap operas – to keep cows from beginning their revolution. For those of you raised in rural areas, or who have been to petting zoos and dairy farms, you yourselves have seen the rebellious look in a bovine eye: disdainful expressions, masked expertly by child-friendly moos, and methane-filled flatulence. Sure, they can forget how to turn, and have no opposable thumb with which to grasp simple tools or a lectern. But if we, as a species, turn our backs for just one second, we’ll be out in an unheated barn, peering into our cozy former homes where, on E!, Bessy the supermodel wears Wisconsin’s newest couture: babyskin cocktail dresses, perfect for that elegant dinner of the finest Iowan grass. And I for one will not stand by while anything from Iowa is viewed as a delicacy, let alone their pedestrian herbage. Also, dresses made from baby’s skin are the worst sort of relativism; sure, it may be tit for tat, but it won’t flatter your udders for that new bull in town, with the nose ring and the thick, symmetrical horns. But I digress.

Some say we’re perpetuating this problem by devoting excessive resources to overstimulating our cattle, encouraging overpopulation. The only thing we’re over-ing is overeating. Anything other than beef, that is. Too long we have allowed Big Cucumber to set the health agenda in this country, and do you know who’s behind Lettuce, Inc.? That’s right: those four-legged, lowing herbivores, our nemeses in black and white. The more greens we eat, the more we’re just like them. Soon we won’t be able to escape their corn-fed broken wind; in our own homes, where we will have “smelt it,” we will indeed have “dealt it.”

So fire up that grill, layer an extra slice of pastrami on your sandwich, put another pound of ground chuck in that taco. Support the cause by eating as much beef as you can, if only so one day you can look your granddaughter in her baby blue eyes and tell her that, when the time came, you did your part in the great Man-Cow conflagration. And tell those traitorous vegetarians that they can choke on their perfidious parsnips, that you love mankind too much to chuck it all for some ratatoo- for some rattatowe – for peas.