When Angelina Jolie announced her preventative mastectomy, perhaps you presumed my first reaction was snark because she isn't vegan. You would be wrong in that presumption. I honestly felt sorry for her. However, if your own reaction to her surgical news was snarky, you were not alone.
We are about the same age, you and I. You are a little above forty and I am slightly under it. We both look very young for our age and can be considered to have hot bodies. Nevertheless, even if I had the opportunity to go onstage and proffer my thinly-sheathed vulva for the world to see, I wouldn't. The difference between us is not a level of prudery as my happy husband will attest. The matter lies entirely in the nature of the impact I wish to have during my finite time on this planet.
Lest you think I'm singling you out, you are one of a crew of vulva-thrusting matrons: Madonna, Beyonce, Britney Spears, Christina Aguilera, et. al. The aforementioned women may or may not be your friends, however, you have a great deal in common with them. You are all mothers. You have all had at least one form of plastic surgery. You are all apparently concerned about the loss of your looks to aging. Like it or not, you are part of a club of increasingly desperate female entertainers caught in a monkey trap. For those who are not familiar, there is a system of trapping monkeys that originates from the jungles of Southeast Asia. In order to trap a monkey, the trapper creates a container with a hole just wide enough for a monkey to stick his or her hand into. The monkey reaches in for the bait but even as the trapper approaches, net in hand, the poor monkey will desperately cling to the bait, unwilling to just let go of the prize and avoid capture.
In my late teens, I used to believe in faeries enough so I painted a series of faerie oil paintings, all but one which have been lost or given away. My friend and I used to walk in the forest preserve and we convinced ourselves sprites were speaking to us, responding to our spells, and revealing to us their wonders.
I decided to wake my mom up to brunch. Two trips to the store later, I was busy making a tofu quiche using The Post Punk Kitchen's recipe. Since she's not huge on broccoli I substituted asparagus and a ton of fresh spinach. I had hoped to try out kala namak - Indian black salt - for the first time, but alas, no Indian groceries were open that early on a Sunday. Kala namak is a sulfurous salt that I've heard makes vegan dishes taste eggy. Instead I added asafoetida liberally.
This is my aunt's recipe. Like all of her recipes, it's very customizable to suit your taste.
To start with, choose your beans. You may choose all black beans if you wish. I like a 50/50 mix of black beans and kidney beans.
Choose your veggies, also according to your taste. Shred or finely chop them. Once chopped the veggies should match the volume of the beans. I like to use roughly equal amounts of broccoli, onion, and shredded carrot.
As a diminutive, attractive female within my reproductive years, I have often been subjected to many an ostentatious male display meant to enchant with the implied promise of virility. Men make spectacles of themselves by nature, especially when they find out that the attractive female in the room is a VEGAN. Suddenly, a new unspoken contest is born: Is not the meat-eating man inherently superior to his few vegan competitors? Who will win in the contest to seed his dominance among the most attractive childbearing-age females of the species?
Just sharing two images I made. I know very little about graphic design, but it's definitely a skill I want to learn. If you like them, feel free to click to open them in a lightbox and download. It's propaganda, so spread it! You may recognize the cow from our header on the homepage. I met her while visiting family in Oklahoma. It was sad to see her and her companions trapped behind fences right next to a gas station, with tags on their ears, but it was a beautiful experience to get so close. They all gathered around the calves to protect them from the strangers.
A young girl diagnosed with mild retardation obsessive-compulsive disorder takes to cutting and burning herself. Her horrified parents discover her stabbing her own legs with a fork shortly after she learns to eat with silverware. She later discovers banging her head against a wall at the age of four. By age nine, she's knocked herself out badly enough to cause a concussion at least a dozen times. By the time she is an adolescent, her parents relinquish her to a psychiatric institution.
Those Vegan Hedonists is the forum I created to discuss all aspects of veganism, animal rights, spirituality, skepticism, and philosophy.
Hedonism is the philosophical stance that pleasure or happiness is the only intrinsic good. I'd suggest that this idea is the reason many of us became vegan, and the basis of much of the animal rights movement. I contend that ethical hedonism requires veganism. But this blog isn't intended just for vegans. It's a place for everyone to respectfully discuss all manner of ideas and issues.