Vegan Manifesto

So I’m sitting here munching on my grilled tofu sandwich, browsing “Vegan World Fusion Cuisine”, the book where I figured out how to make said snack, and it stuck me that the guys who wrote it thought that they could help save the planet, but they can’t, ‘cause they are wusses, it’s gonna take me instead. I'm gonna be the one to save the planet.

You see, we all know, well, at least most of us know, well, at least some of us who have thought about it know, that we just can’t go on like this forever.  Something's gotta give, and if we don’t do something good real soon, it’s not gonna be pretty. No more oil, no more water, no more topsoil, no more food, well, it won’t be a good day for civilization.

But hey, every society has a ‘come to Jesus’ moment where they figure out that when you go head-to-head with Mother Nature, well, she don’t ever lose. Sometimes, like in  Iceland, or ancient Japan, or Tahiti: they got the message, and figured out how to live within limits. Other times, like Greenland, or, well, Easter Island, they just died. Sigh.

Our society’s ‘come to Jesus’ moment is any day now, except now, it ain’t one island, its the whole planet. Can’t take no steamship off the ecological wasteland and head off for pristine lands. If we want to preserve our water, our topsoil, our food, our energy, our biodiversity, and save our planet, what’s the best thing to do? You guessed it, we all become vegans! Don’t believe me?  Well too bad, I only got a thousand words. Look it up!

Oh, sorry, got sidetracked. Lemme get back to my tofu burger. I love this stuff. I inhale my pad thai, I snarf down hummus wraps, and geesh, carrot cake is to die for.  I love this stuff so much, well I’m one big guy. Six foot four inches, two hundred and sixty pounds dripping wet. Well, maybe a little more, but you ain’t gonna ever find out how much more.  I’m living, breathing, eating proof that vegans don’t gotta have that Twiggy body style. We can look like John Goodman, and be proud of it!

So here’s why its me that has to save the world, not the “Vegan World Fusion Cuisine” guys. Just gaze at their pictures. They all have that skinny, vegan, emaciated look.  And to top it off, they all have those new agey silly grins.  Now really.  How many Americans can identify with that? Ever seen what a typical American looks like these days?  You just are not gonna convince the Walmart crowd to stop eating daisy the cow by espousing flowerly mystical new age mother nature stuff. Ain’t gonna happen.

Like I work in a place with thousands of other folks. Some of them are real bright. But I think I'm the only vegan in the whole place. Heck, to the people I work with, they think a vegetarian is someone who doesn’t eat deer because they cried as a kid over Bambi.  The thought of a human being not eating hamburgers, fried chicken, cheese pizza, well, you might as well try to live without water. I mean, heck, where would you get your protein?  Its downright communist. Or democrat. Same thing.

So “Vegan World Fusion Cuisine” just ain’t gonna fly with this crowd. Too bad, cause that cookbook has some great stuff in it. Stuff that really tastes great.  And taste, thats the secret. People aren’t gonna put down that triple cheeseburger with bacon because they wanna save the world. They are gonna put down that steak pizza because they found something that tastes better. So great recipes, that’s a start.  But no self respecting good ol’e boy gonna have a cookbook in his place called “Vegan World Fusion Cuisine”.  No sir.

So here’s what I'm gonna do. I’m gonna write a cookbook for my kind’a people.  It’s gonna be called something like “Bubba's Veggies”, or “Fried Plants for Macho Guys”, or just “The Real Guy Cookbook”.  I don’t know much about cooking, so I’ll just steal all of the recipes from the World Fusion folks.  But those recipe names. They gotta go. No more “Sacred Sesame Shitake Dressing”.  Instead, its gonna be “Bubbas Kickass Sauce”. Same stuff. Different name.

And to spice it up, I would take out all of those wuss photos of nature, and put in real stuff. Big macho guys hacking sugar cane with a mongo machete. One of those big honking combines, smashing into those monster corn rows.  A top fuel tractor, mowing down those soybeans at Mach 1. Big honking grain silos reaching for the sky. Hu-Rah!

I guarantee my cookbook will be a hot seller. Like hotcakes. Bubba’s hotcakes.  But that’s only part of it. Other people gotta do their part. Cookbooks for twenty-somethings, for gamers, for geeks, freeks, soccer moms, Yuppies, Buppies, Hispanics, Cherokees, Koreans, Norwegian Bachelor Farmers, Unitarians, hey, even Baptists.

Lets get busy! First one to save the planet gets a big carrot cake with lemon tofu icing! Yum!