The Big Bad Wolf

The story of the three little pigs; the wolf the evil villain with the ultimate goal of consumption and the pigs with the one goal of sustaining their lives. Interestingly the story all boiled down to what kept the wolf out and kept the pig in. As a child having this story read to me at night created more conviction on why my family did not eat meat (even though my parents choices were more nutritionally based than sympathy based). As I got older and started learning about animal instinct and the whole cycle of life, prey to predator, I tended to sympathize with the wolf. Was he just succumbing to his natural instinct of a need to fulfill hunger? His sharp teeth evolved for the purpose of tearing flesh and likewise his digestive system made to process animal meat. A carnivore true to form! Interestingly enough this cycle of life is not only about eating, but also nature sustaining a natural order of population of living things.

This brings up the question of where humans fit into the equation: Do we sympathize with the human frying up a pan of bacon because she is only following an instinctual guide to eating meat? Or do we sympathize with the pig that unknowingly lived her life to become bacon? I think that these questions can only be answered individually. However, Michael Pollan brings up an alternative perspective of viewing animals as meat, not so much in whether or not we should eat meant, but how the meat is produced and killed. In the chapter so endearingly named “The Ethics of Eating Animals,” Pollan states “The proper measure of their suffering, in other words is not their prior experiences but the unremitting daily frustration of their instincts” (p. 310). So by keeping cattle, pigs and chickens in close quarters and only providing them a limited diet that they did not evolve to eat, is this a form of induced suffering? Interestingly, I have had long debates with my partner, Tim on this matter, because in his younger years he spent a good six months working at a “pig factory” in Missouri. His job in the assembly line was to skin the pigs from snout to tail (the previous person in line had already killed the animal). I have constantly deluged him with questions about how this type of job affected him. Did he hold any empathy for the pigs? Did he get depressed? “No” to both questions. “Meat is meat.” Interestingly enough, he did admit to not liking how they were kept enclosed in compact spaces, reminiscent of Pollan’s description of Poky farms. Tim’s reasoning came down to it being against the natural way of things. So Tim’s issue was not in the method in which they were killed (he said it was very swift), but the method in which they were kept alive prior to being killed.

So how do I view this whole dilemma, to eat meat or not to eat meat? I am writing this after devouring beef kabobs over the weekend—no, not organic or grass fed beef, but the cheapest cubes we could find. For me the cheapness of meat items creates an ease of mind in buying it. Interestingly, as Michael Pollan points out, if we deconstruct this industrialization and essentially brutalization of animals, “Yes, meat would get more expensive. We’d probably eat a lot less of it, too, but maybe when we did eat animals we’d eat them with the consciousness, ceremony, and respect they deserve” (p. 333).

Ramen Omen

“Society is a joint-stock company, in which the members agree, for the better security of his bread to each shareholder, to surrender the liberty and culture of the eater.”
Emerson, 1841

Artificial, Synthetic, Man made…
When did consumer goods move from the real thing to the imitation? Leather to pleather or cotton to polyester: Is the new product ever better than the original? The need to recreate materials, makes sense from a business perspective… why not use plastic to recreate the sensation of cotton if it saves time and money? Though there is always the question of what really is at stake… by creating a capitalist solution, what problem is traded for instead?

When it comes to food, the very nourishment we need to keep us running smoothly, you would think this is one area of playing god that humans would leave alone. Other than genetically altering plants and animals to maximize production, much of our food is filled with artificial flavorings, colorings, and preservatives. In class we had a lovely little test called “Know Your Ingredients.” Surprisingly I did quite well … remember that saying: What you don’t know won’t kill you! Is that so? Ignore disodium insoinate, disodium guanylate, tripolyphosphate and hey chives and garlic, ingredients I know!

So with the knowledge of unknown ingredients, the whole class was presented with the challenge of consuming a cup of ramen. For me it began as a challenge, but my stomach grumbled and it was all over; I consumed every last inch of noodle and sipped the broth down to its last neon yellow drip! The taste was salty and I felt that the more slurps I took of the broth, the more I wanted, also a sense of numbing on my tongue which sublimely sent messages that I had to try more to get to the “true” taste. Afterwards, my stomach felt bloated, my head dizzy from MSG sensitivity and my mouth felt coated with something foreign.

I have had ramen and numerous variants of the instant noodle throughout my years, but for some reason every time I eat this tasty treat, I succumb as if having it for the first time and seem to forget the uncomfortable after affects. This makes me think that the illegible ingredients are ones in which addictive qualities lie. Perhaps the MSG? However, as we talked in class, there are possible other factors that contribute to the allure of commodified taste: possibly created by advertising, convenience and history all wrapped up with taste.

Watch Out Crows!

This past week the class began reading The Omnivore’s Dilemma. Not normally one for introductions, I decided to deviate from my norm and start there. After several pages I was riveted and decided that this was definitely a book to share, and who better with than the person I share most of my meals with: my partner Tim (and our dog Sprocket, though how much she understands is up to interpretation).

I wish I could say that it is reminiscent of the cozy bedtime story time, but the culprit is far worse than the wicked witch of the west. Lets just say that the scarecrow was lucky to be freed by Dorothy from guarding the cornfield, the crows possibly not as lucky. Of course this is all in assumption that the world of OZ is also in the same predicament as the Earth is with our industrialization and genetic manipulation of zea mays: Corn.

Michael Pollan begins the first chapter with a visualization of a supermarket from the naturalist perspective, at first seemingly diverse, but upon closer inspection mostly “a manifestation of corn.” I have thought of myself as pretty aware of the corn epidemic, especially in processed foods and the fact that corn has been altered with built in pesticides and lost its ancestral nutrition, but I learned in this first chapter that corn makes up a good quarter of a supermarket’s goods; food and nonfood items.

Last night I had my first supermarket experience since starting the book and I could not get that first chapter out of my mind. Entering the produce section and looking at the variety and thinking about what has to be done to the food to make it last in shipping from miles away, made me more aware of what choices I was making as a consumer. Walking around the aisles of packages foods, one whole aisle of cereal, rows upon rows of soda, I imagined the origins of many of these products: a cornfield somewhere in Iowa. I could almost imagine a field of corn, in tight rows upon rows, a homogeneous vision of inbred genes, maximized to its harvest potential. However, the by-products of corn on the supermarket shelf are hidden in a variety of items.

With all of this knowledge spinning in my mind, I seriously felt a bit ill and also a bit pissed off! How could such a huge lot be taken up by a grocery store that sells mostly corn? I glanced at cereals and picked up a few, scanning the ingredients feigning surprise at the corn syrup listed first. Not today. After doing this denouncing of other products I usually get including Gatorade and granola bars, I purposely by-passed the snack aisle. I ended up in produce, seemingly a safe haven. Hey, I'd rather have a genetically modified tomato, than a product that has been over produced from remnants of corn. Also, at least produce has a sticker stating the foods origins. As Schneider states in his article Where did that food come from? "The updated law would require that beef, pork, lamb, goat, fresh and frozen fruits and vegetables carry a label with the origin of the food. The no-man's-land of labeling would be the grocery store aisles of processed food in cans, jars and pouches." However, he also mentions that such labeling laws get caught in "red tape". So in other words, it might be easier to trace corn as a main ingredients to somewhere in the Midwest versus knowing without a doubt that the tomato I'm about to buy came from Oregon.

Where am I left in the supermarket? Well, I saved $40 bucks and stuck to the outskirts for the remainder of my shopping. Now what I am frightened of is the shared shopping trip with my partner, Tim. How will I dissuade him from buying his favorite cereal? Then again, if I continue to read aloud from The Omnivore's Dilemma, he will probably become apprehensive of grocery shopping experience as well.

image: http://www.clothespinreferee.com/Images/cornfield.jpg

Root of All Evil

I read All Over Creation several years back as a casual choice, not realizing that this fictional work would link with some of my own experiences. Ozeki’s creation of the “Seeds of Resistance” reminded me of the group I traveled with to Sacramento for a protest in 2003. In comparison to the "Seeds of Resistance" we were less educated and less organized in regards to genetically modified food.

We were a scattered bunch of youth ranging from 15 to 20 years old and drawn together from past lazy summer adventures and toying with ideas of dumpster diving and squatting in Seattle. Banded even more together with past protests in Seattle, against the WTO and the LEIU, we felt freed by marching, rallying, and of course causing chaos. Yes, I would say we idealized anarchy. Did we really know what standing for anarchy meant? I am not so sure now, but regardless of our true values, our new-formed traditions brought us to planning a journey to Sacramento, California to take part in the protest against genetically modified foods.

The journey itself was uneventful, though charged with eagerness. Thinking back, there were several ironic and a bit hypocritical instances in our convictions. For example, our dinners at camp sites on the drive down would be solely made up of huge Burbank potatoes, not organic, just one of the largest bags that someone had snatched from a store before leaving Seattle. Here we were heading for outright dissent against GMO corporations and we were feasting upon the very food, a homogeneous tuber, which was renouned for being genetically altered. Along with corn and soybeans, potato cells were modified with insecticides to ward off predator insects. I think what it came down to was that while we truly believed that GMO was the root of all evil, we lacked some knowledge of what that truly meant in our daily consumption.

We arrived in Sacramento, California and immediately gathered at the central welcome center for the protest. Our first real meal was served by Food Not Bombs, who generously and amazingly fed a good portion of the people gathered for the protest (a hint at how much food is actually thrown out and salvageable, since a good 500+ people were there). I did not think twice about consuming dumpstered food, as such a choice of eating was now a part of my daily life. I remember the first meal served was a kaleidoscope of colors; beats, peppers, apples, greens, garbanzo beans, and other textures and tastes unidentified. It was a thrilling meal, overridden be a rise in adrenaline and moral as we geared up for the protest.

It begin peacefully, marked by colorful costumes of food characters, some as an idealized healthy happy food, smiling ears of corn, or others taking the more literal, killer tomato costumes and the like. Biodev.org reported on September 10th 2003 “Monday’s rally and parade was a true festival of resistance to biotechnology, industrial agriculture, globalization and empire. There were billowing felt tomato costumes, foam rubber trees, chefs wielding giant cooking utensils and UC Davis students’ Beneficial Bug Brigade.”

With any protest, the cops eventually showed up and most of felt that their use of force was undeniably cruel. However my companions, myself and the other young proclaimed anarchists retaliated by matching violence with violence: setting garbage cans afire, tagging businesses (which we later found out were supporters of the protest), and just all out young adult angst. In this aspect, I think we were very much like Ozeki's "Seeds of Resistance" and like many young protesters who romanticize revolution. The press loved people like us, because stories could be built around unruly youth instead of the message against GMO and it’s empire of corporations. I think this is where protesting in the United States falls short because the press coverage is typically negative. However, I also think that protesting can still be very effective in resisiting.

image: http://www.reclaimingquarterly.org/web/sacto/Sacto1.html