So, I saw Super Size Me; good old Morgan Spurlock telling us the evil ways of quarter-pounders. He nearly gave himself kidney failure for that film, all for the sake of documenting the bad ways of McDonald's and its sort. I probably patted myself on the back as I waltzed out of the theater with a tub of half-eaten popcorn in my paws, saturated with movie-theater butter, no doubt.
But, Food, Inc. -- that really took the cake.
I eat roughly a dozen eggs a week; that's a very meager estimate. I toss in some tofu from time to time, just to make myself feel I'm doing myself some protein service. I don't think about the chickens; I certainly don't think about how my little eggs are procured.
I had to turn that movie off: exploitation of Mexican workers (my people!), inhumane treatment of dirty animals (my people!), and all for making corporate brass richer (my future husband(s)!)
I didn't like it one bit. See below my angst:
Margaret Sandwich: sure thing.
and hey, learning things is painful
me: this is a bunch of hippie b.s.
Margaret Sandwich: good rebuttal
me: incorporate my food, just don't let me know about it. Don't Let Me Know.
Margaret Sandwich: or, just get normal food
me: good night, hippie
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