The logic of popular activism. Also, eating as self-defense.

I am a philosopher. That is, I was a philosopher. That is, I studied philosophy in college. That means, essentially, nothing.

There aren't many philosophers anymore, people who do real philosophy, above explaining Kant to business majors. I do neither. But the desire to philosophize persists, so I spend lots of time taking simple events and assessing them with the steely logic of Aristotle.

Feats of reason often happen when they are least expected. The other night, as my jaw snapped shut on a bit of tri-tip, I wondered, "If humans are animals, and we find eating people ethically repugnant, then why don't we also avoid eating other animals?"

Immediately and clearly, my philosopher's brain saw only two options:
• Eat people
• Don't eat animals.

Desperately needing the rigorous logic I learned in those Philosophy classes, but not wanting to do any real jail time, I decided I really should feel bad about eating animals.

I went to PETA's website for a little re-education.

Before it had time to load I was drawn to the first thing that came up. A link: PETA2.com. Why would I waste my time at the original website if there's already a number two?

As that page loaded, I asked it: “Why not eat animals, PETA2?” It responded with a concise and logically explosive argument:

Premise: Ethan Hawke has a dog.
Premise: PETA2.com has free iPods.
Conclusion: You should not eat at KFC.

There it was, Ethan with his dog on the gossip page, iPods on the iPod page, anti-KFC vitriol tagged everywhere else. But those are just the explicit terms, and it can be difficult for a non-philosopher to pick out the various implied premises that support the conclusion. They are:

Ethan Hawk has a dog.
PETA2.com has free iPods.

• Dogs are too cute to kill.
• You want an iPod.
• Dogs are kind of like chickens.
• KFC kills chickens.
• KFC doesn't offer iPods.

Therefore, boycott KFC.

It's bribery and cuddliness-by-association, but that alone isn't enough. Logical arguments are also founded on a set of assumptions. The assumptions in play here are:

• You are twelve
• You are confused easily
• You think celebrities are gods

Since idiot preteens are exactly PETA2's demographic, the argument works perfectly.

They see the cute puppy, all floppy-eared and doe-eyed, on the same page as Colonel Sanders disemboweling a hen, and say, "Yes, I should stop eating that." They wait, patiently, for their iPod to arrive.

Whatever austere opinion, whatever impassioned plea PETA.com has made for the responsible stewardship of Earth's creatures, PETA2 does infinitely better with marketing, celebrity worship and free iPods.

They're beginning to catch on.

Since my own celebrity worship has long since become resentment and jealousy, and because I already own an iPod, I was about to close the browser in disgust at this cynical activism. Then I saw something from my own childhood. There, on PETA2.com, was Davey Havok, lead singer of AFI – the Goth-punk skateboarding Wiccans who also play music.

That eye liner. That lip ring. That razor sadness. That bone-deep mournful ache. Those vinyl pants.

God that guy is cool.

Peeking out from behind his black, satiny devil's lock, Havok's sharp eyes transfixed me. Beckoned me. Told me of the Church of Havok, which has among its bylaws the following: "and we shall all follow a vegan diet."

Take me into your fold! Yes. I shall take up the red paint, the foraging.

I was about to sink again into the adolescent languor of pop idolatry, but National Geographic Explorer was playing somewhere in the background. It spoke quietly to me about animals.

Explorer said there is a class of animals called "predators", meaning animals who eat other animals [some even eat each other]. Most of these so-called "predators" would eat me if I got close enough. Unlike other herbivores, or "prey" as they are often called – e.g. the zebra, the Stegosaurus – vegans don't have the herd mentality and striped skin needed to avoid predators. Nor do they have plate armor and a spiky tail to fight them off.

In denying their inner omnivore, vegans even lack the only real defense available to a plucky though tender, hairless ape: the foresight to eat first.

Forced to decide between Davey Havoc's cultic wrath and the business end of a mountain lion or Allosaurus, I decided to keep my animal-eating skills sharp by vigilantly eating less dangerous [cuter, often pre-killed] game.

As of this post, I have not yet been forced to use my skills to preemptively eat a feral cat or Velociraptor, but I live deep in the channeled scablands of Eastern Washington, and nature favors the prepared.

[A shortened version will bookend the Reader's self-styled eco-consciousness issue]