My Name is Ralph Große-Bley, I’m 60 years old. Not A Health Hipster. Not A Vegan-Influencer. No Eco-Warrior. Rather, one who has not liked most of his life, vegetables especially. Unless it’s Creamed spinach was. Then I was reconciled. Brussels sprouts, cauliflower, and Cabbage I’ve met only in my nightmares.

I don’t think all that much of vegans. Missionary, undernourished, bored.

Well, of course my meat-eater-I was horrified when I got to Ponder whether all is right with the Steak and the fish and the milk. “We can’t forget that, buddy?” it asked, after I was the first Time in a mass animal husbandry system. “No, we can’t.” Neither the pictures, nor the cries of the animals. Pigs, Cattle, Calves.

Living Piglet in boiling water. Baby Chicks in a shredder. Bolt shot in the head of the cow. No, thank you.

it’s been three years. Everyone should be there. Or in a slaughter house. Optionally, you could ride in one of those “Live animals”truck – especially in the summer. My appetite is gone. On calves in breadcrumbs with potato salad. Or Embryo chicken on North sea crab. Nothing else is an Egg. A Embryo.

millions of pigs to die in the gas chambers, while we cuddle with our dogs and cats. This is absurd.

When I was young, because Schnitzel, Roast or sausage were not every day on the dining plan to my mother. The Sixties. Because the Sunday roast was the gastronomic Disco of the week. But once in the week.

I never thought about why cows give so much milk? Not so that we can have cheese? the no. Cows give milk, like women giving milk When they have babies. But in our world, cows are inseminated again and again forced to become pregnant and give milk. , And not for their calves, but for our baked Pizza and our cheese bread.

And the children? Into the slaughter house. Throat. Fillet of veal. At the end of.

And the Schnitzel in the breading was pretty tasty. A calf is but underneath. A Baby, that’s right.

there is No life before death

My meat-eater-I might have something from the cycle of life was on about. But to be honest, bullshit. the The invention of the industrial animal production, the atomic bomb of our civilization. you pollute the planet, because for all the billions and billions of pigs, cattle, chickens, giant food crops to be used. Feed for animals, which have no life from death – but the starving people in many poor countries of the world we don’t get tired of it. We slosh from pandemic to pandemic. Always triggered by animals. A leaf of lettuce pandemic would be new to me.

For three years, I’m vegan. No meat, no fish, no animal products, so no milk, eggs, or honey.

I’m better than ever. I have learned to see animals as products. But as a living being. The pain, fear and above all just want to live.

I despise the term Livestock. If it should be the utilization of animal. Animals, which we exploit mercilessly. Until we finally kill, eat, or shredding. Scream now determines the barbecue Fans among the readers: “humanization!” And I say: “Go to a slaughter house!”

Finally, all eyes are on the States in this sector

If there was livestock, it would not have to be Nutzmenschen? The Romanians and Bulgarians, who for a few euros the hour, Monster meat factories toil, so that the Germans can buy from the discounters a Kilo of meat for five euros? The Nutzmenschen?

FOL

unfortunately, I have to admit that I adhere to the mass Corona-infections in German battle of the factories with a certain degree of satisfaction perceived. Yes, finally all the time to look at the conditions in this industry.

And many is a little bit of appetite on the neck steak for 79 cents and Bratwurst for 39 cents passed. At least in the short. Humans forget quickly when it comes to its convenience. But it is chic to say: “I only buy from the butcher of my confidence.” Or: “I only buy organic.” Blah, blah.

no, I’m no Vegan-sect. I evangelize, not kidney. But the other way it is difficult – in a way, you do not need to defend yourself, if you want to eat what is on the table. It’s like Body-Shaming. You can’t say: “You is fat.” But more plump people among us. “God, eat something.” If I say: “Eat less,” then I’m the giant asshole.

My last Lobster FOL

most of all I’ve always ate fish. Sometimes I miss that. Nevertheless, I would not eat more. Instead, there are a thousand new things in my life. I was vegan star food. I was eating vegan Junk food.

The last Hummer, for the by the way, I paid money, was 2018 in a Restaurant on the Cote d’azur, Théoule-sur-mer. He was lying next to a Hummer in a dark, small Aquarium. With rubber scissors. Three days long. I bought it for. They came on a silver tray. I’ve worn it on the Breakfast terrace to the sea and released there. No idea if they have survived. But they had deserved a Chance.

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