Chance meeting in Hunstanton led to chat about veganism
In his weekly Turnstone column, Hunstanton columnist John Maiden talks about the benefits of a plant-based diet…
Recently, when returning from a meeting of the Hunstanton Society's History Group, I stopped to chat with a charming chap called Andy, who was sitting alone in the coach he had just driven over the border from Lincolnshire. His passengers were students who were engaged in studying our fascinating coastline under the supervision of their teachers.
Andy was eating a pie of some sort, which may have prompted me to casually mention the fact that I am a vegan. He responded by saying that he sometimes feels uneasy when faced with the way some animals are destined to be killed and eaten, while others become companions to human families. The conversation moved on to cover Andy's experience of taking coach parties on visits to war graves on the European mainland, and how sad it is that wars seem such a long way from being consigned to the dustbin of world history.
However, as I continued plodding homewards, an anonymous poem came to mind, entitled 'The Slaughterhouse' (see below) which someone had posted on the website for objections to Cranswick. It is unlikely to influence the decision makers when it comes to granting or refusing planning permission for the proposed mega factory farm, but it should make consumers think twice about purchasing intensively reared meat, eggs or dairy produce.
The numerous alternatives to cows' milk make the continued dependence on a source of food intended for calves seem quite illogical. Almost as stupid, in fact, as the decision by the new Labour government to continue for the next five years with the previous government's misguided policy of slaughtering badgers in an attempt to control the spread of bovine TB in cattle. This is not only cruel, it is also unsupported by all the evidence and is playing into the hands of those individuals who continue to take part in the extremely cruel and unlawful 'sport' of badger baiting.
I cannot see a picture of a badger now without remembering the gentle and playful creatures filmed for the BBC TV Springwatch series earlier this year. It sickens me to think that anyone should seek to justify their wholesale slaughter on commercial grounds, but evils such as the slave trade were tolerated for similar reasons more recently than most people seem to remember.
To end on a much more positive note, people from all walks of life, are recognising that a plant-based diet is better for the health of the planet as well as human health.
Slaughterhouse Poem
I will never see the sunrise, I will never see it set,
I will never feel a kind touch, I will never be a pet.
I will never feel love, for I will not be loved,
As I’m led to my murder, being prodded, poked and shoved.
As they cut my tender skin, I wondered who would care,
If anybody out there, would consider my despair.
For you did not see me die, and you did not see me bleed,
You did not hear me cry, for the meat that you don’t need.
You did not watch them kill me, you could not feel my pain,
You will try not to think of me, as you blindly eat again.
I was the cow you ate on Monday, the pig you had midweek,
I was the turkey for your Christmas, I was the calf you liked to eat.
I was the chicken in your sandwich, the duck you had for tea,
I felt pain beyond belief, but you never thought of me.
Because thinking can be painful, and you refuse to see,
That for every time you eat meat, those animals must bleed.
The cow was killed for Monday, the pig was scalded too,
The turkey lived for 16 weeks, and the calf had died for you.
The chicken lived inside a cage, the duck could hardly move,
And all of this suffering, occurred for so-called food.
I fail to see a reason, as there is no need,
When humans eat my meat, it is purely for their greed.
You may think you’re above me, that you have advantage,
But a kind, innocent creature, is better than a savage.
So next time you’re out shopping, try to feel some guilt,
For those animals have died, for your eggs, your meat and milk.
My heroes are those people, who will not bite into me,
So I ask a simple favour, and please stop eating meat.
I’m asking for the cows, the pigs and all the sheep,
I’m asking for the birds, who are more than just some meat.
They can’t speak themselves, so please let’s be their voice,
Every one born into this, for them there was no choice.
For you did not see me die, and you did not see me bleed,
You did not hear me cry, for the meat that you don’t need.
~ Anonymous
