Great Stoner Albums You Need to Hear (It's Time You Went Beyond "Sweet Leaf" and Dark Side of the Moon)
I've never killed my own dinner. Never hunted it, raised it, slaughtered it, or butchered it. In many respects, I feel it's something I should do as a meat eater, to help keep the comfort and complacency at bay. Because comfort and complacency are what will eventually drive a man to buy a hot dog at 7-11. I've been there before, and I desperately do not want to return.
If I ever realize my dreams of a pastoral life, I'll have to face killing my dinner at some point. I know it won't be easy, and I know it'll be an emotional experience. But I don't know what to really expect.
Thanks to a recent blog post from the Front Yard Farmer out of New Orleans, I have a better idea:
There’s a reason why animals raised for meat are kept in inhumane conditions. A pig in a cramped pen with a concrete floor isn’t going to get a chance to develop a personality, or at least express it. And it’s much easier to kill a pig with no personality than the one that chews on the cuff of your jeans and rolls over to be scratched with a rake.
It's an intense and very thoughtful piece about slaughtering your own livestock. If you've ever been interested, I suggest you read it. It's almost like the exact opposite of the Concentrated Animal Feeding Operations you see in Food Inc., and in my opinion it's 100% morally defensible.
[Thanks to Matt Davis for the tip]