THE WRITER’S LIFE
(Image source: True Romance)
Since dealing with the thing which ought to have occupied more focussed minds – The EU Referendum – and voting (for many reasons) to remain, and agreeing to differ with some of my more simian friends, my mind has been concerned with other things. Cooking vegetarian meals has been one of them, now that I’m part eggplant.
It’s been three days: early. But I went into this after a lot of internal debate and research and that’s why I won’t (can’t) turn back. Part of the reason I am so opinionated is manifold in itself: In order to be of the strong opinions that I am on so many things, I have looked at all arguments in some depth. I undertake a lot of research for writing projects, whether they be fiction or non-fiction. Once I plant myself in any particular position, it’s because I’m convinced to an extent that I can enter into an educated debate which I’m confident that I’ll win. I don’t then preach because I don’t like being told what to do myself; I simply talk: something I’m pretty good at. Or I write.
The vegetarianism came about after much debate, already documented here, but as I’ve read more and more, I’m so drawn to the issue that I can hardly comprehend that I ate meat only three days ago. I have no more right to eat an animal bred for human consumption (because most are) than I do to eat my cat. I don’t have a cat (I could argue that I’m looking after Erwin Schrödinger’s, so no-one can say for sure that I don’t have a cat) but if I did, it would be just the same; Fundamentally: that’s key.
So it extends to an empathy. Although I was on the streets for a while, I didn’t take up residence with any other feral species, but reading, research; studies have all landed me in the same place: a place where I am sufficiently well-read and researched to be able to argue a case for non-human rights.
Just like other areas which I’ve recently delved deeply into for my writing and my greater understanding of things (quantum physics, biocentrism, and yes, vegetarianism), so my ever active sponge of a brain craved more information on the greater questions which my mind asks. As myself and Douglas Adams always said, the answer is 42 but it only makes sense if you know what the question is. Douglas is years ahead of me. Major Tom only just set off, but one day, we’ll meet again.
I know that I’m right in my belief of the paradox which awaits after this life. Atheism and science gave me that knowledge and science is based on proof. Theists continue to live in hope. I know that I am conscious. I know that yesterday is separate from today and that there will be a tomorrow: that’s cognition. I am autonomous and self-determining.
Realising that non-human “animals” are also all but one of those things, through reading many learned papers by Peter Singer et al, and by following the work of US lawyer Steven Wise; realising that we are pretty much the same, I had an even greater feeling of guilt for all I’d done before. Life imitates life.
I’ve had some very engaging conversations lately, which have included someone I’d never met before, telling me that she gets the whole multiverse thing (The reason I don’t fear “death” and the proof that God is fictional). In another conversation, I brought up the whole concept of Habeas corpus: The granting of legal entity to a non-human. Because of the relative authority with which I’m able to speak on an issue, I may have inadvertantly gained one for the vegetarian cause. That was not my aim and I’m not an activist but I have an opinion, based on research and delivered with weight. I devised a simple question, like the “paths” one I posed myself on quantum physics, when I shone a quantum torch into the dark matter. In yet another exchange, I found out that someone very close to me has finally managed to get rid of her cat: It was a Schrödinger cat all the time. She reads this sometimes. We talk rarely and she’s prone to kicking off for no reason other than for the sake of it. Keep your head up kid…
I got an email today, from someone who just Googled me. I don’t know their reason for doing so and I’ve not responded with an enquiry. The author described me as “Contageously venomous.” I think I like that, so thank you.
In my last blog post before this procrastinating country makes up it’s mind, I live in hope. Whichever way the vote goes, I fear that tomorrow and the days to come may be even more divisive for the UK than the poison already secreted by the leave camp.
It’s a simple question I’d ask, if I were able to from within that cage: Why did you do this?
“You’re a canteloupe.”
But what do I know?
Nothing until tomorrow. For now I’ll smoke a Chesterfield, watch True Romance and catch up with Douglas and Dave.