The Un-Vegan, Un-Carnivore, and Utterly Exasperated Confessions of a Reluctant Omnivore

Alright, let's talk about food. Not in the "what's for dinner?" kind of way, but in the "why does eating make me want to scream into the void?" kind of way. Because honestly, the whole damn conversation around what we put in our mouths has become an ethical minefield, and frankly, I’m sick of the hypocrisy.

For the record, I eat meat. And fish. And plants. Everything. And before anyone starts clacking away about my moral failings, let me just say: I don’t enjoy the fact that something had to die for my sustenance. I don’t prance around gleefully, relishing in the demise of a sentient being. In fact, if there were a Star Trek replicator in my kitchen right now, assembling every nutrient-perfect molecule into a delicious meal without a single life form blinking out of existence, I’d be the first in line. And probably crying happy tears.

But we don’t have replicators. Not yet.

So, here’s my cold, hard truth: I have to eat to survive. Period. My body demands certain nutrients, and until science catches up with my ethical aspirations, I’m stuck in this ancient, messy, biological loop. And here’s where my exasperation truly begins to boil over: the endless, self-righteous debates about what constitutes "ethical" eating.

Vegans, often draw a very clear line: animals feel, plants don’t. Therefore, eating animals is barbaric, and eating plants is morally superior. But seriously? Are we still clinging to that simplistic narrative? Every day, it seems, we’re discovering new complexities in the natural world. Plants communicate, react to their environment, defend themselves, and yes, even "feel" in ways we’re only just beginning to comprehend. To declare Flora as fundamentally "less than" Fauna, to dismiss their intricate lives as inconsequential, feels like a convenient, self-serving kind of ignorance. It's an arbitrary line drawn in the sand, just as arbitrary as saying one race of humans is "less than" another. And that, my friends, is where the grumpiness really kicks in. And I can already hear the niche counterargument from the back row: "But you can just eat fruits, nuts, and seeds! The parts the plant wants you to eat to spread its life!" And sure, in a perfect, utopian fantasy, that sounds lovely. But let’s get real for a second. Is that a nutritionally complete diet for a complex primate like a human? Is it affordable or even remotely sustainable on a global scale? I have some serious doubts. Besides, this whole quest for some perfectly "pure," death-free meal is a fantasy. Every fruit you pick, every handful of seeds you eat is teeming with microorganisms. You're still participating in a cycle of life and death, just on a microscopic scale you find it convenient to ignore.

Because if we’re truly being honest, the only way to avoid being responsible for any life form dying for your dinner is to simply… not eat. And that, funnily enough, conflicts with my own rather strong desire to continue, you know, existing. No animal in the wild would hesitate to eat me if it were hungry enough. That’s just the brutal, indifferent logic of nature. So, since I can’t single-handedly dismantle the entire food system or rewrite the laws of biology, and since I genuinely see no compelling reason to declare one kingdom of life inherently "more worthy" than another, I’m certainly not subscribing to any mono-diet dogma.

No, my real issue isn't with what we eat, but with HOW.

This is where true empathy and morality should kick in. There is absolutely no logical, ethical, or even remotely justifiable reason to inflict unnecessary suffering on any life form. None. We have choices in how we raise animals, how we harvest plants, and how we process everything in between. We can choose methods that minimize pain, stress, and fear. This isn't rocket science; it's basic decency.

And this brings me to the absolute apex of my disgust: those who consume living beings. Eating an alive octopus, for instance. Or a wriggling fish. I honestly have to stop myself from physically recoiling just thinking about it. What kind of person watches a creature suffer and flinch and writhe in terror, and then proceeds to chew on it, alive, without a flicker of remorse? Seriously, I question their humanity. I question their capacity for empathy. If someone can look at pure, unadulterated suffering and actively participate in it for a momentary, perverse thrill or "freshness," how am I supposed to trust that they wouldn’t harm a fellow human, or anything else, when no one is looking? That’s not just "different culture," that’s a profound lack of basic compassion.

So, yeah. I eat everything. And every single time, there’s a little pang of guilt, a quiet acknowledgment of the life that was given. I don’t take it lightly. It’s a burden I carry because, for now, it's a necessary one. But my personal suffering over this doesn't excuse, nor does it justify, the active infliction of suffering.

My hope, my fervent wish, is that one day we evolve past this. That one day, the "what" will be irrelevant because the "how" will be universally gentle, or better yet, entirely synthetic. Until then, let’s stop pretending that one form of death is inherently pure while another is inherently evil. Let’s focus our energy on the one thing we can control: ensuring that whatever life we take, we do so with the absolute minimum of cruelty and suffering.

Anything less is just hypocrisy.