Who was reading: An ash-blonde clutching a Kenneth Cole bag full of red yarn. The ghosts of expressions kept jerking her face one direction or another but never settling into any clear shape. She remained impassive even when a bunch of hooligans without pants boarded at Union Square.
Luckily they weren’t deviants, they were just celebrating Annual No Pants Day. How cruel that it falls in January.
From the book’s website: “Synthesizing philosophy, literature, science, memoir, and his own detective work, Eating Animals explores the many stories we use to justify our eating habits—folklore and pop culture, family traditions and national myth, apparent facts and inherent fictions—and how such tales can lull us into a brutal forgetting.”
Fascinating stuff, but... I don’t know if I can bring myself to read it. Foer ranks pretty high on my Enemies List (which happens to coincide exactly with The New Yorker’s 20 under 40 talented-fiction-authors-to-be-jealous-of list). Maybe if he gets really unpopular I'll read it to be "different."
Until then, best to eat as much MEAT as possible! This March, for example, I've resolved to eat only animals I've never consumed before (eg. snail, guinea pig, dodo?). Anyone care to join?