Saturday 1 June 2013

A Conversation With A Bacon Sandwich

Hey people of the world,
Genuine danger is being bestowed on me upon the writing of this blog. My future is in mortal peril. I'm sitting here writing this post when every minute that passes for me now is numbered... counting down rapidly to the two GCSEs that I am sitting in approximately 36 hours. I will attempt to complete them on a diet of no revision. I am dead meat.
(Isn't it coincidental that my main blog entries are published during exam seasons? But then again, where I live, exam season is all year round for me).
Incidentally, I recently encountered dead meat - a mere hour and a half ago, in fact. Craving some late night sustenance, or perhaps comfort food to console me as I plodded through the vale of tears that was my physics revision, I indulged in a bacon sandwich to lift my spirits.
Yet I picked up the sandwich in my zombified, slightly hallucinogenic state of revision-induced, sleep-deprived insanity, the most disturbing thing happened.

I kid you not, my dear friends. The sandwich started talking to me.
"Hellooooo..."
"ARGHHH!" I dropped the sandwich in shock. Stared at it in horror as it lay broken on my plate.
"Do not be afraid, dear child. I have come to tell you... not to eat me." it whispered up to me. Strange, it kind of sounded like Grandpa Simpson.
"All my food says that." I said sulkily, wishing it'd just shut up so I could devour it. "I don't blame it; who'd want to be eaten? I understand it's your attempt at self-preservation, and you have to kind of admire a sandwich without a brain for that, but I'm hungry.Why should I listen to YOU?"
"You should listen to me, my child" - I really hated how it referred to me as "my child", it implied my mother was a pig (she isn't) - "Because I know what you want from life. I understand your dreams, your desires..." I looked at it dubiously, slightly panic-stricken. I really hoped it didn't.
"How?" I asked suspiciously. My friends have called me an open book, but I didn't realise I was so easily legible to all - including my mid-evening snacks.
"I read your blog." it explained. "Your second post - Saving The World From My... Study? I believe it's entitled."
"Ah," I relaxed. "Continue?"
"Yeah, so I read how you want to save the world and stuff. I just wondered if you knew that meat is probably the most unsustainable component of your diet. You know livestock production generates eighteen percent of all greenhouse gas emissions? Two pounds of beef uses the same amount of energy to produce as driving a car for three hours does."
I clutched the sandwich in horror, ignoring its squeals of pain. "Seriously?"
"Seriously." came its muffled response. "Please let go of me." I released it and waited till it had caught its breath again. "You're always on at everyone to reduce their carbon footprint by walking to school and stuff, but in a world of lazy-asses, is that really going to happen?"
"Yeah," I said defiantly, but under the sandwich's stern and disbelieving glare, my resolve cracked. "Maybe not," I conceded.
"You're barking up the wrong tree," it said gently. "We all know how much you want to reduce people's consumption, but I hate to break it to you... no-one listens to you."
"That's not -" I began, but it gave me another pitying glance. I shut up.
"We all know it's true, stop deluding yourself." it snapped. "Anyway. Vegetarianism, on the other hand, is so much more eco-friendly. Eighteen percent." it reminded me.
My face crumpled. I knew it was right. "It doesn't have to be painful," it soothed me. "There are plenty of meat-substitutes out there these days, and more are being developed each year. Approximately 12-17% of the world are either vegan, vegetarian, or pescatarian. It can't be that hard, can it?"
"It's food for thought," I admitted grudgingly.
"Or even just cut down on meat. Have it less often. It needn't be drastic." it encouraged.
"I'm not going to stop campaigning for people to cut down on fossil fuels," I told it. "But I am definitely going to cut down on meat. With a view to becoming veggie."
"That's the spirit!"
I smiled at it. "Thank you," I said emphatically.
"Absolutely no problem. Good for you, I say."
We regarded each other in amicable silence, until a sound broke the hush. A low rumble echoed across the kitchen... originating from my stomach.
I noticed the sandwich pale with fear. "Well... take care of yourself." it said nervously.
"I will," I assured it.
They were the last words it heard before it met its untimely end.
R.I.S, sandwich - (rest in stomach).

Later that night, sitting in the dark to save electricity, I considered the late sandwich's words.
As much as it pains me to say it, I know vegetarianism is the way forward. Of course, I'm stuck between a rock and a hard place. My heart is telling me that in order to truly set an example, I should become a vegetarian. I don't condone hypocrisy. Yet my heart also seems to be suffering from multiple personality disorder, because it is ALSO telling me to remain true to my meat-eating ways. It's not a nice dilemma, y'know?

And it is in memorial of that noble sandwich that I have come to two short term solutions, which I share with you today. It really shouldn't be THAT hard, and if other people gave it a shot as well, it's a case of every little helps. Eighteen percent, remember? Here goes:
1) I will attempt to omit meat from my meals for an absolute minimum of two days a week. (currently, I have it basically every day. It's bad, I know).
2) I will sample at least one meat substitute, because you never know, it might be even better than the real thing. (wouldn't that be convenient?)

I will undertake this challenge, I swear ("THIS I SWEAR BY THE STARRRSS" - have you guys seen Les Miserables? WHAT a great film.).

I wouldn't like to call the sandwich thing a miracle, but it really opened my eyes. A smart guy, was that sandwich.
Oh. My. God.
Yeah, I really should be revising.

Arrivederci!
- SavingTheWorldFromMyKitchen


share the link www.savingtheworldfrommykitchen.blogspot.co.uk
great website: www.wwf.org.uk

In memory of a sandwich. 2013-2013.
Forever in my stomach.
Because I have a digestion problem.
I don't.

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