What if kale were as idealized by vegans as backyard chickens are by locavores?
What if the leafy greens conferred nobility, honor and a sense of purpose about us as much as the Michael Pollan’s elite crowd derives from eating their “special” dairy, eggs, and meat?
This piece was inspired by those who pursue spiritual enlightenment through another being’s death, those who cherry pick ephemeral Native American sentiments when they are of benefit to them. After reading a disturbing article by a journalist who traumatizes her children regularly (while patting herself on the back for her good liberal values, of course) by having them watch animals get slaughtered for their table, and yet another website dedicated to the life-and-death cycle of a flock of backyard chickens, I wondered what it might sound like if someone growing kale employed the same hackneyed, self-aggrandizing and narcissistic language and mentality.
View original post 1,820 more words