In praise of chickens

The Cheeseburger Manifesto has opened widely the doors to a fabulous rediscovery: the power of the chicken. Before last month, I last voluntarily ate meat on 19 February 1995, my nineteenth birthday. Then on a dark and stormy night at the ice rink in June, I walked up to Steers and ordered that great meat-eating manifesto: a cheeseburger. It felt like asking a pharmacist for condoms. I softly muttered ‘shzbuhrer, pliz’ at the perplexed cashier. ‘Sorry?’ she replied loudly, ‘A cheeseburger?’

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The upside of extinction

In about 125 thousand years men could be extinct. Don’t take it personally. According to some scientists, men could be extinct in 125 thousand years and we need to do something about it. I don’t think we need to do anything about it all. Extinction is a very exciting prospect. I look forward to the day when my greatn grandchildren will look at pictures of me, as I do at the Dodo, and think, “That was a beautiful creature, how foolish to have let it go extinct.” Of course the Dodo is not that beautiful, and I have not yet had any need for one. But after we’re gone people say the most wonderful things.

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