Ethical carnivorism

My wife is a vegetarian. Has been for several years now. And I'm extremely proud of her because of it.

Being a vegetarian, even in the 21st Century, is very difficult, for a couple reasons. Try this: next time you go to Applebee's, see how many menu items you can spot that don't have meat in them. Some restaurants are getting better about offering vegetarian options (Burger King even has a veggie burger on the menu, believe it or not), but at most of these places vegetarians are left out in the cold. Much of the time, when we go out to eat, Jamie ends up with a side salad and a baked potato. And she has to ask the waiter to hold the bacon on both.

The hardest thing about being a vegetarian, though, is perception. When someone finds out Jamie is a vegetarian, they're stunned. No kidding - they're shocked. And I'm not talking about strangers, I'm talking about acquaintances, co-workers, even close friends and family. People have tried to talk her out of it. People have told her she's stupid for not eating meat. People have tried to convince her it's against the Bible's teachings to not eat meat.

People ask her why she's a vegetarian, and it's a complicated answer. But essentially, it was an ethical decision. Jamie loves animals, and she made a conscious choice that she'd rather not eat them.

And after decades of eating meat, Jamie stopped cold turkey (she even stopped eating cold turkey) and hasn't eaten meat since.

Jamie's my hero. She's the strongest person I've never known. I'm not that strong. I don't think I could ever stop eating meat.

But I think I've come up with a more ethical way to eat meat. Check it out:

The life of an animal has a certain value. Is the life of a rhinoceros more valuable than the life of an ostrich? Is the life of a beetle more valuable than the life of a walrus? A dog's life more valuable than a cat's?

I don't think so. I contend each life has the same value.

In order to eat meat, though, you must end a life, or consent to the ending a life.

Therefore, it would be better if that life could feed lots of people instead of one or just a few.

So I give you the Large Animals Only Diet.

Take a cow, for example. An average-sized cow can feed a whopping 1,400 people! By comparison, people who enjoy shrimp often eat 10-20 in one meal. It's obviously better to end one life to feed 1,400 than to end 20 lives to feed one.

Here is a simple list of "Good" and "Bad" options on the animal spectrum.

GOOD: Beef. It's truly what's for dinner, and it's the wisest option for Large Animals Only eaters. A butcher shop can get 1,400 eight-ounce servings of beef out of one cow.

GOOD: Pork. A pig can feed up to 200 people. And the varieties found in pork is impressive: ham, pork roast, ribs, and mother freakin' BACON.

BAD: Chicken. That sucks. Chicken is delicious. Fried chicken is possibly the greatest-tasting food on the face of the earth. But a chicken only feeds 2-5 people, so it's off-limits in the Large Animals Only Diet. However, there's another poultry option...

GOOD: Turkey. A turkey can feed anywhere from 10-25 people - not bad for a bird. And turkey is widely available; you can get a turkey sandwich pretty much anywhere.

BAD: Tiny Seafood. In addition to shrimp, clams, mussels and oysters are terrible choices in this diet system. If you value animal life, killing a dozen of them for your dinner is not a good thing to do. But if you need seafood...

GOOD: Large Fish. Tuna, salmon, swordfish and even large catfish are good choices and can feed large amounts of people each.

BAD: Lobster. A news story I read several years ago is really what sparked this idea for me. The story was about a gigantic lobster caught by a fishing boat. Experts estimated the lobster was alive when Abraham Lincoln was in office. What did they do with the ancient crustacean? They ate it. It troubles me to think that the lobster I get in my surf-and-turf could be a hundred years old. And besides that, one lobster usually only feeds one or two people.

*****

As I wrote at the beginning, I'm not very strong. There's a good chance that next week I might run across an all-you-can-eat buffet and eat a holocaust's worth of crab legs. But I'm definitely going to be conscious of the above rules from now on when I eat.

The next time I'm at a restaurant, if I've narrowed down my menu choices to chicken wings or a hamburger. I'll take the burger. Medium rare, please.

This is the end

We're living through it, folks. The end of the newspaper business as we know it.

There's no way to stop the rapid death of printed newspapers and the slow decline of journalism overall, so we might as well embrace it as a moment in history. Within a few generations, newspapers as they exist today will cease to do so.

Two recent developments provide evidence of their demise. Okay, this first one is not recent - it happened in May 2012 - but I just heard about it recently during a January 2013 '60 Minutes' report (watch it here). The New Orleans Times-Picayune cut back to 3-day-a-week print publishing. Of course, the owners of the Times-Pic spun the story linked above to focus on "beefed up online coverage," but the real story is the loss of a true daily newspaper. I've been there before: my former employer, the Kansas City Kansan, cut back from five days a week to three, and we spun it the same way. Of course, it was easy to see through the guise. Within a year, the Kansan's print existence came to an end.

The saddest part: New Orleans became the first major metro area without a daily newspaper. How much longer can Kansas City and the KC Star avoid this fate?

The other development: The Washington Post is considering selling its downtown-DC headquarters, including its world-famous newsroom, according to a report in The Wall Street Journal.

Bernstein (left) and Woodward in happier times for the newspaper business.

This doesn't necessarily indicate anything about the fate of the Post. Presumably, the newspaper will be able to put out the same product in another space than it does in its current one. But the reason behind the possible move is the real problem. The newspaper employs 600 people now, down from 1,100 ten years ago. A smaller staff means smaller papers. Smaller papers mean less satisfied readers. Less satisfied readers mean a smaller circulation. Eventually, that leads to the death of a newspaper - and don't think a paper like the Post, considered one of the best in the world, would be exempt.

For the record, I still subscribe to two print edition newspapers: The Kansas City Star, and the weekend edition of the Wall Street Journal. In my little KCK neighborhood of about 25 or 30 houses, I think there is only one other house that subscribes to the Star. Twenty years ago, I'm sure nearly every house on the block took the Star, the Kansan or both.

The only other surviving subscriber in the neighborhood? An elderly widow in her 70s who doesn't own a computer.

Ban words, not guns! ... X-Games 2013, Sports Center and the Major League Baseball Hall of Fame vote... Incredible... just incredible

Awesome image of Shaun White on fire by Doug Pensinger

After watching a week of X-Games 2013, I have something else I want to ban in addition to assault weapons, the sole purpose of which is clearly to kill a lot of people in a short period of time.

Words.

What? You want to ban words?

That's right. Five words to be exact. Not banned entirely. Just banned until the Second Coming or another Kansas City Royals' World Series victory, whichever comes first.

Incredible
Awesome
Amazing
Unbelievable
Epic

First, I want sportscasters and sports writers prohibited by law from using these words. We'll see how that goes. Then journalists, particularly political journalists and especially bloggers. (Tony Botello gets a pass for "awesome tipsters" as long as the tips really are awesome.) If that goes well and the republic still stands, then everyone.

The culprits are not just X-Games talkers. Apparently the word 'stoked' with that special southern California accent on the vowel, has already been banned by the ESPN brain trust, though it did sound funny when the translator translated it for a 14-year-old Japanese half-pipe prodigy.  I don't know... stoked seemed more authentic than incredible, awesome, or even 'big ole...' Stooooked was missed.

But X-Game analysts aren't the only incredible culprits. Just listen to Sports Center. Watch the Top Ten. You'll be surprised to learn that every day something amazing, incredible, awesome, unbelievable and epic happened. Three-hundred-sixty-five epic things a year is a lot of epic.

I was talking Saturday night with a gaggle of teammates from the 60-year-old-plus Relics about the Hall of Fame voting. One of the fellows suggested we should have known McGwire and Sosa were 'stoked' as they blasted epic blast after epic blast from underneath their ever expanding, incredibly big, hat sizes. Gives the phrase 'swell head' new meaning, doesn't it.

We were having such awesome fun, he said, we forgot to ask why? ... How? ...What's in the water?

Sometimes when a thing's unbelievable, it is.

--Lofflin

Shaun White on fire image by Doug Pensinger at SB-Nation. Go see it and enjoy the writing as well. Actually, this image deserves the 'awesome' designation.

The NRA has gone around the bend; have faith the American people are too smart and too good hearted to follow

The NRA's latest effort to soil the nation's good intentioned soul-searching debate about crafting reasonable gun laws was just awful. Believe it or not, they concocted an advertisement using the president's two school age daughters as fodder. They get secret service protection, the NRA bullies whined, but your kid is forced to go to school in a gun-free zone.

The problems with this are so big and so many, the temptation is to bore the reader with them. Of course the president's children get protection. The world is full of crazies and terrorists and spies and their lives cannot be left to chance. The possibility of the president's children being held for ransom are beyond thinking. Remember, Eisenhower was not allowed to fight the battle of D-Day -- even though he planned it and ran it -- for precisely that reason, and it is no doubt fair to think Ike could protect himself in battle.

OK, that's enough. Any thinking person will already have a dozen refutations of this latest bit of silliness from the NRA.

And, thinking person is exactly the point. The day must come -- and let's hope it has finally arrived -- when the American people see this radical group for what it is: An organization of generally decent and intelligent citizens headed by leadership that has gone around the bend. Let's hope this is the day the rank and file say, 'This is enough... we're not following you off the cliff... this isn't what I signed up for.'

You know what ended Joe McCarthy's around-the-bend witch hunt? Television. They put him and his congressional hearings on television -- this unstable little man with the list of Commies in his pocket belittling stately looking generals... fighting men fresh from war. The American people could finally see the little man in action and they didn't like what they saw.

When they see this latest advertisement, let's hope they have the same reaction. Whoa! This isn't what I believe. This isn't the tone I want to set. This is so low, so slimy, so around the bend, and such a dangerous invitation to violence against children -- the president's very real children -- I don't want to be represented by these people anymore. Let's hope it makes them think twice before they put on their NRA jackets tomorrow, because the vast majority of these people must find this latest move repugnant.

--Lofflin

PS: Be sure to see the comments on this post.

My first Lomo images

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-- Lofflin

Check out the Lomo Diana F+ here...

The state of posterity

It struck me today, when I heard the news that not a single player was voted into the National Baseball Hall of Fame on this year's ballot, that I no longer care about the Hall of Fame, its members, or the fate and legacy of baseball players.

I could present a whole range of tired, mostly untrue arguments, the kind that are already being rolled out across the Internet: "Back in my day, ballplayers were clean!" or "Ballplayers have always been dirty; steroids are no worse than amphetamines." "Bonds, Clemens, Sosa and all the others are getting what they deserved!" Conversely, "Baseball writers are out of their minds from keeping these guys out of the Hall of Fame!"

It's just exhausting.

As a baseball fan, ballplayers don't care about me. I am merely their employer; I pay for tickets, merchandise and cable TV to watch their games, and that money filters down to the players, who become millionaires from it. And that's fine. But conversely, I'm going to choose not to care about the players outside of their role on the diamond. They serve their purpose: they entertain me, give me a team to root for during the season, give me something to hope for in the long cold winter.

Why should I care about them after they retire? I'm too old to idolize ballplayers, retired or otherwise. The juicers will get into the Hall of Fame someday or they won't.

I'll continue to root, root, root for the home team. I'll even be hopeful that my hometown Royals will be good this year. When they win I will pump my fist; when they lose I will curse.  And when they leave the game I will forget about them, just as they forget about us.

Dell S2340T travails... Draw me a picture... or not... words still have value even if the folks who send us sophisticated equipment to hook up ourselves don't believe it

Received a new computer monitor via UPS yesterday afternoon. The Dell S2340T is a  sophisticated little devil – well, sophisticated but not so little. What was I thinking? I’ll need a bigger desk for this thing.

Wrestled it out of the box which went better than usual because the packaging included a kind of cardboard strap around the payload. You pull the strap straight up and out pops the monitor, all 25 pounds of it. Then you cradle the big baby in your lap with one hand while you pull the plastic bag off with the other, reminiscent of changing diapers in a booth at Dennys. The operation went smoothly. Expectations of a quick and simple setup soared.

Ah, well… not so fast. This is no simple monitor. It has a bunch of buttons on the side. I still don’t know what they do. It has a touchscreen with a variety of plug ins and plug outs built into the base. It also sports a variety of methods for hooking it to the computer, a fact I didn't discover until much later. Another fact I didn't discover until later: You use all the cables in the box, right? They wouldn't send you more cables than you can use, right?

Wrong.

But, how was I to know? OK,  here’s the point of this quick rant. With all the cables and disks unpacked, I went looking for the directions. I searched the plastic cable bags, the box, the packaging, under the packaging and, believe it or not, inside the crevices of the box. Nothing. Then I noticed a tiny slip of paper folded into three panels hidden inside the bag holding the drivers disk.

Zen and the knuckleball -- from Pirsig to R. A. Dickey... does the cosmos have a mean streak?

Photo courtesy: http://www.levity.com/corduroy/pirsig.htm

Note: This is a long lazy post, not appropriate for blogging. Put on some coffee and keep it hot if you decide to read.

Finished two books on New Year's Day. R. A. Dickey's autobiography Wherever I Wind Up and Robert Persig's classic Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance. They were strikingly alike in many ways, some expected and some quite surprising.

Dickey's book was new to me, written during the 2011 baseball season and published this year. Zen I've read a half-dozen times, at least, generally when I felt myself in a period of drift. I started Dickey's book on Christmas Day but I started Zen back in July. It was the fourth or fifth inning of the second game of a doubleheader on a steamy Tuesday night. I was at third and a hard hit groundball had just scooted under my glove -- a sixty-four-year-old reaction glitch.

I was getting wound up about it, spitting in the pocket of my glove then pounding it with my fist. I'm pretty sure our shortstop, an engineer by trade named Mike Alteri, noticed.

"Hey, John," he shouted without taking his eyes off the hitter, "you ever read Prisig's book?"

"Yes," I said, temporarily distracted from a bout of self loathing.

"I took a road trip once," Alteri said, "and followed the same route he took on the motorcycle."

I loved playing next to Alteri. For one thing, when he went back on a pop up, he sang 'I got it" like Mario Lanza. But only if he really knew he had it. That was the signal. More important, he knew how to keep the game fun. I could always depend on him to unwind me with a question about the '27 Yankees or the '64 Yankees or a book like Zen. Mike knew, and I was learning (at 64!), you cannot play the game tight.

Biden 2016 - or not

These days, presidential politics never take a break. The instant Barack Obama won a second term to office, Campaign 2016 kicked off. And Vice President Joe Biden has hinted pretty openly that he's considering running for president.

On the last day of the year, Vice President Biden swooped in and took control of the "fiscal cliff" negotiations, and he bargained with Republicans in Congress to strike what seems to be a fairly good compromise for all sides. As President Obama's terrible swift sword, Biden shined tonight, and this will certainly be a boost to his presidential chances.

I'm not so sure that's a good thing.

Let me say this: I'm biased. I love Joe Biden. He's one of my favorite politicians, and probably the most likable politician of my generation. He's a working class guy who can connect with people, and he's the kind of guy who has the right character to be president.

And, I happen to agree with him on almost every issue.

More guns

John's recent pieces on the raging gun control debate in the aftermath of the Newtown massacre have been spot-on. I can't improve on it one iota.

I'll only add this telling joke, culled from Facebook:

How many NRA executives does it take to screw in a lightbulb?

More guns.

The discussion of limits on guns gets more convoluted every day -- guns don't kill people... people kill people with guns; and, as Tony Botello points out, they do it every day

The conversation this society has engaged about controlling the possession and use of guns, especially assault weapons, has been loud and clamorous -- but absolutely welcome.

Any conversation about this topic is a step in the right direction. Any serious conversation would be an even bigger step.

Alas, as I pointed out on Christmas Eve, having a serious conversation is difficult because the absolutists of the NRA are backed into a logical corner. They are stuck defending the indefensible  The idea that a society cannot exercise any control over the weapons its citizens brandish is impossible to rationally defend.

As a result, the argument has to pivot on a single point. The Constitution grants the right of private citizens to arm themselves. This, of course, is not an argument. It doesn't argue why armed citizens are good for society. It doesn't argue why no strictures should be placed on which weapons citizens should be allowed to arm themselves with. It doesn't account for modern firepower. It doesn't even attempt to interpret or otherwise understand the sentence. It just says, 'The constitutions guarantees this right.'

Wrong about the NRA... the response was anything but masterful. ..in fact... well, it's Christmas Eve... time to be charitable, let's just say they've got a tough row to hoe

I was wrong.

I was wrong last week when I predicted the NRA response to the tsunami of talk about controlling the possession and use of guns would be a masterful stroke of public relations, a case study for the ages. It was, instead, the worst case of public relations in recent memory.

It was, in fact, so bad I started trying to figure out why. I offer four possibilities:

Off the map

Fascinating article in the Wall Street Journal Weekend Edition this morning about how the tradition of maps and mapmaking (like so much in our lives) has been obliterated by digital technology. The most poignant passage:

...Each of us now stands as an individual at the center of our own map worlds. On our computers and phones, we plot a route not from A to B but from ourselves ("Allow current location") to anywhere of our choosing. Technology has enabled us to forget all about way-finding and geography. This is some change, and some loss.

The great part of each of us being in the center of our own personal map - and by extension, the center of the universe - is that it's easy to find wherever we're going. The terrible part is that it's becoming more and more difficult to find ourselves.

The Mighty NRA warned us -- Friday they take off the gloves -- if you study the arts of public reations you will want to take notes -- this will be one for the ages

The National Rifle Association did warn us. We have until Friday to finish mourning the children.

“Out of respect for the families,” they cooed in a press release, “and as a matter of common decency, we have given time for mourning, prayer and a full investigation of the facts before commenting.”

I felt like throwing up.

I could parse this piece of sophism until the cows came home. But here's a start:

• Notice, “respect” is for the families, not the children or their teachers. No mention of death here. No mention of the dead. No mention of children anywhere in the press release. This is not an oversight; this is by design.
• Notice the word “common” next to “decency”? What, then, is un-common decency? Does this mean they’ve waited as long as they – The Mighty NRA – should be asked to wait?
• And, well, what were they hoping would emerge from a “full investigation” of the facts? Involvement of the Taliban?
• Yes, and talk about tone deaf. This dreadful sentence pronounced the exact length of time the NRA believes to be adequate for the families to mourn and pray. Could anything be more arrogant?

They gave their lives for the children

They teach Secret Service agents to protect the President with their bodies.

Nobody has to teach teachers to shield their students with their bodies. They just do. Even when they know they are about to die.

--Lofflin