Meat Means Murder

“Meat” is murder. That is what it means. I worked in a butcher shop, until one day I couldn’t. I finally understand now. There is a good, loving God who is the Lord Jesus Christ, and then there’s the others. You know, the others? The ones who kill and rape and mutilate and torture. God did create us all, with our free will. And what, my God asks, did you do with this free will? Did you look inside and find out the Truth? Did you recognize that your brothers and sisters are not food? Did you look upon their flesh when it was living, a living, thriving, vital organism in a carefully calibrated ecosystem? And when you saw the menu, did you miss the connection? Did you ingest and chew and savor it, dining with your friends and family, not thinking at all about the origin of the cuisine? Did you repent? Did you ever expand your consciousness to include your own body, and the other bodies? Did you weep and wail, and gnash your teeth? Yes I did. And my heart is calm now because I know the lion will lay down with the lamb. For I am that lion. And I am that lamb. It might seem strange, it might be spooky to see, a sudden mass realization of the truth of what we had done, and the genuine desire for repenting, forgiving, loving. But there will be a great silence in heaven. Where are the hells? Hell is where you were. You might recognize them. Slaughterhouses. Imagine, if you will, the sheer terror and horror and fear and rage and panic, panic, panic, as the machines come for you. Machines or men or gods, it makes no difference what they are, one way or another it always ends unhappily: death. And birth. Generation after generation, the pseudo-creators perpetuate a cycle of hopelessness and terror. And you have lived through it. Greed and avarice and apathy propelled you through it, every time, and lust and wrath and hate and thoughtlessness nurtured your psychopathic desires and – oh, look, here’s a McNugget. I’ve eaten countless pounds of McNuggets, and I can say with certainty that I could not harm a chicken, or bird of any sort. For there but the grace of God go I. And I am not one to be eaten. I am made for better destinies. Blessed is our true Creator, for the Truth shall set us all free.

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