Zen evenings with me

I went out to dinner with a man tonight who, like all the other men who initially insist on accompanying me somewhere, thought that by virtue of my looks we would have something in common. I’m not completely sure why this is so, although those who know men could argue that perhaps said dudes were just trying to get in my pants, and I don’t deny this as a very real possibility. I think, however, that the majority of these dudes thought there was for some reason a good chance I’d be a hypocritical, contradictory, purported tree-hugging poser philosopher just like themselves, only to rudely discover that I am loud, opinionated, enjoy recycling, and love my life just the way it is.

When stupid people I give the time of day to want to change my mind, they try to do so by attempting to prove that I am somehow unhappy with my life the way it is. It’s as if by demonstrating that there is unhappiness in my life they’ve successfully overturned my faith in the NRA, pro-choice, and animal domestication, as if a bad day at work has a direct correlation to my keeping of caged birds.

This is hilarious. Tonight this guy was trying his darndest to make me believe that animals had rights. He must have argued with me for over an hour about the wrongs I was imposing on animals, cutting off their balls and locking them in cages and preventing them from living full, rich lives that included having sex whenever they wanted. (Interestingly, scientific studies have shown that only humans, one species of monkey, and possibly the dolphin actually have sex for fun, while all other animals have sex based on cycles and instinct and not for enjoyment. Granted, he argued this as well by stating that all science was an invention that only existed in individual people’s personal realities. And that thought in itself is so gigglingly entertaining I couldn’t even make that up.) He continued to project his values on animals, then berated me for projecting my values on animals. My animal values were as follows: eating, sleeping, pooping, procreating at instinctual intervals, and not getting eaten by other animals.

“It must be nice that you have such a simple view on animals,” he said. Animals are simple. Humans are simple. I guess he feels that he and the cows on the farm on which he grew up are all very complex and misunderstood. I certainly misunderstood the whole argument after he went on for a good five minutes at dinner about how tasty lamb was and how much he loved to eat lamb. I’m not really sure what his list of animal rights includes, other than having sex for fun, being free to roam the countryside, and pondering profound zen philosophies, but I’d like to include animal right #4, “To be eaten by any idiot who thinks you’re just delicious.”