The first summer after moving into our new home, the husband and I found ourselves buried under a deluge of fresh produce. Some of it, such as the watermelons, cantaloupes, green and yellow zucchini, jalapenos, green and yellow peppers, and tomatoes (oh, the tomatoes!: Roma, Beefsteak, cherry and grape) came as no surprise, since they were planned, planted and grown in our very own garden. Most of the fruit, on the other hand, was wholly unexpected; when we purchased the house the previous spring, we had no idea that many of the trees in our front yard were of the fruit-bearing variety. The apricots, pears and apples (120 grocery bags full, for reals!), then, came as a shock. A happy shock, but a shock nonetheless.

With the threat of an overabundance of fruit and veggies looming, I hurriedly began researching methods of preserving the extras for winter. Canning struck me as intriguing, if a bit risky for a newbie like myself. Freezing, while quick and easy, brings with it the obvious space and energy limitations. Eventually, I decided that dehydrating the excess food was my best option: safe, uncomplicated and requiring the minimal upfront investment.

My (then-) newly-purchased Nesco American Harvest Gardenmaster FD-1020 Digital Pro Food Dehydrator, still in the box.
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Enter: the Nesco American Harvest Gardenmaster FD-1020 Digital Pro Food Dehydrator. After quite a bit of online window-shopping, I finally opted for this make and model. A mid-range dehydrator, the Gardenmaster FD-1020 is one of the pricier models offered by Nesco, and yet it’s still less expensive than those made by Excalibur (which, if the Amazon listings are any indication, is the Lexus of food dehydrators). Currently, the Gardenmaster FD-1020 retails for $154.99 on Amazon, but is on sale for $116.95.

All things considered – e.g., price, customer reviews, expandability, accessories – the Gardenmaster FD-1020 struck me as the wisest choice: suitable for my needs, without going over the top. Plus, it only cost me $30 after I applied my existing gift certificate balance. Score!

This is my third autumnal season with the Gardenmaster; in this time, I’ve used it to dry a variety of fruits and veggies, including tomatoes:

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A freshly baked (quarter-) batch of Molly’s Decadent Delight Muffins sits on a small plate, behind which lurks two identical, plush reddish-brown wiener dogs. Only, the dog on the right is missing one eye (his right one, even!), along with the tip of his nose. One of the first three adopted dog-kids – Ralphie, Peedee or O-Ren – chewed them off years ago. Do we have a psychic in the pack, perchance?
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Friday night, I made a batch of Decadent Delight Muffins (recipe via Molly @ It’s a Vegan Dog’s Life – the meeter of at least 75% of my dog treat recipe needs!) for the dog-kids. I wanted to pamper them a little bit, since we had an especially rough week. But first treats, then kvetching!

Perched on the back of the couch, Rennie stares into the kitchen, entranced by the unbaked muffins sitting on the countertop.
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Packed with flax seeds, shredded carrots, natural peanut butter and freshly made (somewhat fortuitously, as I just so happened to be brewing the final batch of the season) applesauce, these muffins are both healthy and delicious. (And vegan!) I much prefer baking my own dog treats over buying commercial brands because I know exactly what goes into each batch. Plus, they’re really very easy to make and store well in the freezer, if need be. (With five dogs, treats are eaten up pretty quickly round these parts!) Of course, the dogs also enjoy licking the spoons and bowls. And what better way to a dog’s heart than through her stomach? Five paws up!

Okay, so enough of the muffins. Let’s move on to the one-eyed wiener dog, shall we?

Ralphie mosaic!
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Ralphie.

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Behold: the Nostalgia CCP-509 Old Fashioned Movie (Fun) Time Popcorn Cart, in all its glory.
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Though Shane and I only sporadically exchange gifts for our birthdays, a few years ago I decided to spring for something extra-nice and super-special. Namely, one of those old-fashioned movie theater popcorn cart replicas. And not the countertop model, either. Nope, I went all out, opting for the full-sized version, working wheels and all! We were getting set to move into our first home at the time, so this was also a bit of a housewarming gift that we gave ourselves. (Awwww!)

After some shopping around, I settled on the Nostalgia CCP-509. (Though this model doesn’t appear to be available on Amazon, they do sell the 510 for $205. Free shipping, yo! I’m pretty certain I bought mine from a certain evil box store. Free site-to-store shipping, yo!)

Let’s turn to Overstock.com‘s specs for the 101, shall we? (The product manual I managed to dig up is all but useless. Unless you want to know the history of popcorn, in 250 words or less. As I said, useless.)

Dimensions: 27.0×20.0×59.0
Materials: steel, rubber, polycarbonite, glass
Model No: CCP-50

o Your very own 4-foot-11-inch tall theater-style popcorn cart will look great in your game room and will be the hit of every party

o Full-sized, 4-ounce popper will pop up to 1.5 gallons of movie-house-quality popcorn per batch

o Specialty appliance features a large, stainless-steel kettle with a built in stirring system and kernel catcher to keep out the unpopped kernels

o Supplies compartment in the base of the unit for storage of oil, kernels, bags and more

o Popcorn cart offers an easy-to-clean design and, though it’s perfectly sized for the home, is approved for commercial use

Construction and durability: Constructed primarily of steel and weighing in at 50 pounds +/-, the cart’s a pretty solid appliance. We purchased it just before a major household move, so it certainly made the rounds before we assembled it – manufacturer to box store warehouse to local box store to Kansas home to Missouri home – and yet everything was intact when we finally cracked the box open. We’ve had it set up in a spare room for about three years now, shuffling it here and there as home maintenance projects have necessitated, without any problems or even visible wear. We only use it to make popcorn sporadically – mostly for special occasions or trips to the drive-in – and it has yet to fail us.

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This is a much, much milder version of Shane’s (award-winning!) Sweet and Spicy Chili. For the dogs, that is. (Yes, I feed my dog-kids a vegan diet. No, I’m not sacrificing their health and well-being at the alter of my own selfish ethics. For new visitors: you can find additional details and a disclaimer of sorts here.)

This recipe makes about 20 cups of food, or enough to feed 5 hungry little doggies for a week or so. If you’re not a borderline animal hoarder like moi (joking!), probably you’ll want to cut this recipe in halfsies.

chili sin carne, para los perros

Ingredients

olive oil
3 Boca Burgers (optional)
OR 1 16 oz brick of firm tofu (optional)

water
1 16 oz can of diced, unsalted tomatoes
1 6 oz can of low salt tomato paste
2 cups of sundried tomatoes

24 ounces dried beans OR 6 16 oz cans of cooked, low sodium beans (chef’s choice!)
(I used 8 ounces each of dried pinto, black and red beans.)

3 cups texturized vegetable protein (TVP)
3 cups fresh or frozen mixed vegetables
1 cup diced green peppers

brown sugar to taste (I used 4 tablespoons)
dried mustard to taste (me: 1/2 teaspoon)
paprika to taste (me: 1/4 teaspoon)
chili powder to taste (me: 1/4 teaspoon)
cumin to taste (me: 1 teaspoon)
black pepper to taste (me: 1/4 teaspoon)
lime juice to taste (me: 1 tablespoon)
flour to taste
water and/or low sodium tomato juice to taste

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Yesterday, I reviewed Wheeler del Torro’s The Vegan Scoop, otherwise known as MY FAVORITE COOKBOOK OF ALL TIME. (It’s a must buy for all ice cream-loving vegans. In other words, all vegans.) Since most of the recipes contained within require an ice cream maker, I thought a review of my own machine might be fitting.

In Christmas 2008, my lovely mom gifted Shane and I an ice cream maker. Specifically, a Cuisinart Ice-45 Mix-It-In Soft-Serve 1-1/2-Quart Ice-Cream Maker. It retails for $185 on Amazon, but at the time of this writing, you can score your very own for just $87.95 (with free shipping!).

When it comes to purchasing an ice cream machine, you have several styles from which to choose:

Manual vs. Electric:

[Manual] machines usually comprise an outer bowl and a smaller inner bowl with a hand-cranked mechanism which turns a paddle, sometimes called a dasher, to stir the mixture. The outer bowl is filled with a freezing mixture of salt and ice: the addition of salt to the ice causes freezing-point depression; as the salt melts the ice, its heat of fusion allows it to absorb heat from the ice cream mixture, freezing the ice cream.

This type of ice cream maker is inexpensive, but inconvenient and messy as the ice and salt mixture produces a lot of salty water as it melts, which the user must dispose of, and the ice and salt mixture has to be replenished to make a new batch of ice cream. [...]

[Electric machines] have an electric motor which drives either the bowl or the paddle to stir the mixture.

Counter-top vs. Self-freezing:

Counter-top machines use a double-walled bowl which contains between the two walls a solution that freezes below the freezing point of water. This is frozen in a domestic freezer for up to 24 hours before the machine is needed. Once frozen, the bowl is put into the machine, the mixture is added and the machine is switched on. The paddles rotate, stirring the mixture as it gradually freezes through contact with the frozen bowl. Twenty to thirty minutes later, the solution between the double walls of the bowl has thawed, and the ice cream has frozen. The advantage of this type of electric machine is low cost, typically under $100. The disadvantage of the pre-frozen bowl approach is that only one batch can be made at a time. To make another batch, the bowl must be frozen again. For this reason, it is usually possible to buy extra bowls for the machine, but of course these take up a lot of freezer space. [...]

More expensive, and much larger, machines have a freezing mechanism built in and do not require a bowl to be pre-chilled. The cooling system is switched on, and in a few minutes the mixture can be poured in and the paddle switched on. As with coolant-bowl machines, ice cream is ready in twenty to thirty minutes, depending on the quantity made. These machines can be used immediately with no preparation, and any number of batches of ice cream can be made without a delay between batches.

As you’ve no doubt already surmised, the Ice-45 is an electric counter-top model. Keep this in mind while reading my ratings, since each is in comparison to other electric counter-top models – versus, say, a high-end $1,000 self-freezing machine.

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The Vegan Scoop: 150 Recipes for Dairy-Free Ice Cream That Tastes Better Than the “Real” Thing by Wheeler del Torro (2009)
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WHEELER DEL TORRO’S THE VEGAN SCOOP IS MY FAVORITE COOKBOOK OF ALL TIME. The end. Shortest book review ever.

I kid, I kid – but just about the last part. In all seriousness, The Vegan Scoop really is a personal favorite. I love everything about this cookbook: the gorgeous, glossy pages. The luscious, lovingly-photographed balls of frozen deliciousness. The easy-to-follow – yet terribly creative – recipes. The sometimes-sneakily subversive “tasty tidbits” that grace each page’s margins. The way del Torro encourages readers to experiment with different fruits, spices, seasonings and – yes! – even vegetables on their own. The freaking color palette. Simply put, The Vegan Scoop is all kinds of awesomeness.

Besides, who doesn’t *heart* ice cream, hmmmm?

The book, which – have I not already mentioned? – itself looks yummy enough to eat – features 150 recipes for vegan, dairy-free ice cream and ice-cream related foodstuffs. (Disclaimer: all of the ice cream recipes require an ice cream maker. I’ll be reviewing my own model tomorrow, so stay tuned!)

del Torro arranges his frozen concoctions into nine categories:

While many of del Torro’s ice cream flavors are incredibly imaginative (Seaweed! For reals?), all use the same base as a jumping-off point, namely: 1 cup of soymilk, 2 cups of soy creamer and 2 tablespoons of arrowroot powder, with 1/2 to 3/4 cup sugar, depending on the dish. (This is the same foundation on which many of the recipes at A Vegan Ice Cream Paradise are built. Frugal vegan alert!) The cool thing about this, of course, is that uniformity leads to familiarity, which – in this case – breeds confidence and self-esteem. After a little time spent practicing with the recipes in The Vegan Scoop, even this amateur felt comfortable enough to experiment with her own fantasy flavors.

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The terribly charming exterior of The Owl House, a vegan-/vegetarian-friendly and sometimes-gluten-free eatery located in Rochester, New York.
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Happy World Vegan Day! Happy VeganMoFo! Happy happy joy joy. Now if only the Missouri weather would read the shiny happy vegan memo. (Seriously, sun, my faux-you lamp is busted and I’ve no idea how much of this yuckiness I can tolerate. Come out, come out, wherever you are…)

Ahem. Anyway. If the pre-veganmofo tweet/buzz is any indication, it seems that most every mofo’er has a theme this year. Being, shall we say, not culinarily inclined, my “theme” (if I must choose one) is reviews: books, mostly (I have almost a dozen titles in the queue, oy vey, and veganmofo seems the perfect excuse to knock a few of ‘em off the list), but also kitchen gadgets and restaurants!

And so, to kick off the fourth annual VeganMoFo, I present to you: my first-ever restaurant review! During the recent trip I took to my hometown of Rochester, New York, my family and I visited The Owl House, a new-ish eatery with plenty of vegan and vegetarian options. (Cue: vacation photos! Don’t say I didn’t warn you!) Let the mofo’ing begin!

The who: My family, including my sister, Michelle (a vegetarian/aspiring vegan; imho, “freegan” is the label that she wears best); my brother, Mike (a shameless omnivore/carnist); my father, Steve (a longtime vegetarian); my mother, Wendy (a guilty-but-stubborn omnivore); and my grandmother, Vita (an omnivore who’s not altogether ignorant re: all things vegetarian, since she raised my father and all) – and myself, of course.

The what: The Owl House, a vegan-/vegetarian-friendly, slightly upscale-in-a-yuppie-hipster-kind-of-way restaurant located in downtown Rochester. [website; Facebook page]

The when: mid-September 2010, on a Thursday night, just before the dinner rush.

The where: 75 Marshall Street, Rochester, NY 14607.

The Owl House’s too-cute menu, which is also available on its website.
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While my sister (who currently lives in Sacramento) and I were in Rochester, our mom was eager to try out all kinds of “vegan stuff” (here, loosely defined as “animal-friendly”) with us: meals, bakeries, restaurants – sanctuaries, even. Unfortunately, it proved tough to make plans, let alone keep them (so busy was she caring for some of our older relatives), but we were able to visit The Owl House. I guess it helps that Thursday night was Dinner with Grandma Vita Night, and since her schedule was rather tight as well, rescheduling was not an option. So anyhow, this was a family dinner in which the non-veg members were more than happy to accommodate their vegan and vegetarian counterparts.

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In this completely unrelated advertisement for Bayer Rintal, a stereotypically “slutty” looking woman – a sex worker, perhaps? – clings to a horse’s back. Though she seems to be nibbling on his (her?) neck, the horse remains unperturbed; calmly, he continues to nom on a field of green grass. A logo for Bayer Rintal sits in the lower left-hand corner of the image; to the far right, a green star burst on which is superimposed the ad’s copy: “Eliminates all kind of Parasites.”

Hmmm. Not-so-curiously, I find myself wishing that I’d followed my initial impulse to decorate this post with a fuzzy cute goat photo instead…
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Presented without commentary:

Aussie horse club to race women in bikinis

An Australian horse racing club will lock bikini-clad women in barrier stalls and run them down the racecourse as part of a controversial new novelty event, the Gold Coast Bulletin reported Tuesday.

The Gold Coast Turf Club in the state of Queensland launched the event, which is planned to become an annual fixture at the club’s first race meeting of the summer season.

Some believe this will take the popular tourist destination to a new tacky low. In a Gold Coast Bulletin poll, 39 percent of respondents said the gimmick was degrading — while 61 percent disagreed.

Up to 150 women, who must wear bikinis and running shoes, will compete through a knockout system for a first prize of AU$5,000 (US$4,800).

The event was copied from America’s famed Hollywood Park racecourse, which holds a similar event annually.

Turf Club chief executive Grant Sheather acknowledged some may see the event as degrading, but said it would be done in “good taste.”

”When people say ‘Gold Coast’ you think of beach, you think of girls and you think of bikinis; it’s a marketing ploy to build racing,” he said.

I wonder: if a participant trips and breaks a leg, will she be put down?

* A notice under the byline states that the article was updated on September 28, but no update is noted in the actual body of the article. Methinks it was the title of the article that was “updated” – changed, that is, from “Aussie club to race hotties like horses” (which is what appeared on FB when I shared the link) to the tamer (and arguably less accurate à la its misogyny) “Aussie horse club to race women in bikinis.” In either case, IBTK.

h/t, Katrina Fox

Update, 9/23/10: …and I’m back – in body, if not spirit. Kaylee is back to her pushy, gluttonous old self, though while I was away, little O-Ren was bitten by a baby snake. She’s okay now, but she sure gave Shane a good scare (and he, me).

Anyhow, it may still be a bit before I resume regular blogging; I’ve got a ton of work to catch up on, a website to finish, and a yard in need of some major help (still, mad props to the Mr. for all the (to-me) paralyzing tasks he tackled during my absence!). If looking at other people’s vacation photos is your thing (sicko!), mine should be up on Flickr and Facebook within the week. I’m also posting new (albeit moderate and noncontroversial) content on the PPP blog, so if you’re missing me, that’s where I’ll be.

Later, gators.

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Starting tomorrow and through September 20th, I’ll be on vacation and offline. Presumably, anyhow; I’ll be visiting my family in New York, and until I arrive, I’ve no idea what my internet/computer access and schedule will look like. I think it’s one of those situations where either I’ll be super-busy and hardly around at all, or extremely bored and using the extra time to tackle a backlog of work. Either way, expect spotty comment moderation, slow or no replies to email, and a near-total lack of blog posts during this time.

On the bright side –

[because, let's face it, I need something shiny to look forward to as I sit here, teetering on the edge of an abyss that is a stress-filled two weeks spent at my childhood home, with neither Shane nor the dog-kids to act as a buffer between me and my lovable and supportive-yet-impossibly frustrating family / reluctant panic attack]

- I’ll be back in time for the fourth annual Vegan MoFo! Which, come to find out, is scheduled for November instead of October this year, but hey, that’s even better! ’twill give me a little extra time to prepare.

Also, please send some good vibes Kaylee’s way, mkay? (Not that I believe in that stuff, mind you, but it’s the thought that counts!) She’s been nauseous and gassy and feeling like ass since Saturday. So far, we’ve paid two veterinarians $550 to assure us that she’s basically okay, but I still worry, especially since I’m leaving tomorrow. I keep joking to Shane that he’d better not break any of the dogs while I’m gone, or else I’ll never leave the house ever again…but actually I’m more serious than not.

These photos, by the by, are of the Great Autumnal Sun Pursuit, the 2010 kickoff of which was Saturday. Every fall, I schlep the dog beds around the house, following the sun’s rays as the day progresses. All five of the dogs like to chase the sun, but Kaylee and O-Ren are the most tenacious contestants. My little baby had better feel better soon, lest she let Mr. Golden Sun outrun her. Cue: sad marshmallow.

My little monster turns eight years young today!

4/11/10 – Peedee, chillaxin’ under the bench swing with a Big Gulp-sized bowl of water. Such intelligent eyes, no?
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It’s hard to believe that he’s been with us for nearly eight years – all but for the first seven months of his life – but the calendar does not lie. (Nor do the wrinkles slowly lining my face, apparently.) I can still remember the day we brought him home – not like it was yesterday, but close enough. Shane and I had visited a Saturday adoption day held at a local Petco. Our goal: to find a similarly aged – though more active – friend for Ralphie the dachshund. At the time, he was fat and lazy and rather sloth-like -

Chubby Ralphie, circa December 2001. He does not want your pity, nor does he appreciate your judgmental stare.
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- more of a failing on our part than his. (Too many treats + too little exercise? You do the math!) Anyhow, we hoped to remedy that by bringing a more active dog into the household. We went to visit a four-year-old Lhasa Apso girl, but wound up with a seven-month-old rat terrier! The Lhasa Apso – whose name escapes me – seemed even lazier than the Ralphster; not exactly what we were hoping for. Upon noticing us, a volunteer quickly steered us toward Peedee’s cage. Before I had a chance to protest, she’d plopped this little pup-like ball of energy onto my lap. Two licks and I was in love – even though an hyper-energetic, not-yet-housetrained puppy was most definitely not what we were looking for. But love can’t easily be reasoned with (seriously, give it a try!). Within minutes – seconds – we’d decided that Peedee was coming home with us.

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Based on Maslow’s hierarchy of needs (psych101 students, represent!), Ellyn Satter developed a corresponding hierarchy of food needs, arguing that one cannot “choose” to consume healthy products unless one’s more basic needs – such as having enough food to eat, having acceptable food, and having reliable, ongoing access to food – are already met.

Satter’s Hierarchy of Food Needs:
Bottom to top, the six needs are as follows: Enough food; Acceptable food; Reliable, ongoing access to food; Good-tasting food; Novel food; and Instrumental food.

The choice to consume vegan food (vs. the necessity of consuming vegan food) seems to rest at the apex of Satter’s hierarchy, and as such, can only be made “when all underlying needs are consistently satisfied”: “The person functioning at the apex of Satter’s Hierarchy of Food Needs reliably gets enough to eat of rewarding food and has food acceptance skills that are good enough to allow him or her to eat a variety of food. That person is thus in a position to consider choosing food for instrumental reasons: to achieve a desired physical, cognitive, or spiritual outcome. This description is analogous to Maslow’s concept of self actualization.”
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While this hierarchy is primarily being discussed in relation to our consumption (or lack thereof) of nutritious, healthy food, i.e.:

The graphic suggests that getting enough food to eat is the most important thing to people. Having food be acceptable (e.g., not rotten, something you are not allergic to) comes second. Once those two things are in place, people hope for reliable access to food and only then do they begin to worry about taste. If people have enough, acceptable, reliable, good-tasting food, then they seek out novel food experiences and begin to make choices as to what to eat for instrumental purposes (e.g., number of calories, nutritional balance).

As Michelle at The Fat Nutritionist writes, sometimes when a person chooses to eat nutritionally deficient or fattening foods, it is not because they are “stupid, ignorant, lazy, or just a bad, bad person who loves bad, bad food.” Sometimes, it’s “because other needs come first.” (Source: Sociological Images)

it’s equally applicable to veganism and vegan foods: obstacles such as hunger, poverty, food insecurity, lack of access to food, etc., severely constrict people’s ability to choose a vegan diet, on multiple levels (e.g., individual, community, population). As long as we’re serious about creating a vegan world, we must address these human inequities as well. (That, and it’s the right thing to do.)

Check out the Food Empowerment Project for more.

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www.schlongs4seals.com is now open and ready for business!

Currently, only the blog – where I’ve already logged more posts in August than I managed to write for this here blog in the entire month of July – is fully functional. I’m still working on the promised interactive photo gallery and discussion features, but hope to have these done soon. (To this end, WP-compatible software recommendations would be most appreciated!)

That said, the template and static/informational pages are all finished and look, if I might say so myself, kickass. I found a template that mimics Facebook almost to a M (for misogyny, natch), so it’s almost like we never left. (And by “left” I mean “were kicked off.”)

Additionally, I created a temporary set of photo pages to house all the “man meat” I’ve “processed” thus far: VAPETA PSAs, promotional materials, junk shots, celebrity cock shots, South Park avatars, brother campaigns, etc. Browse, bookmark and check back often, because there’s more in the pipes.

If you’re still out there and, um, excited to participate (excited! get it!?), send me your package at schlongs4seals [at] gmail.com and I’ll be equally excited (tee hee) to feature it on the appropriate page.

Also, if you visit the front page, you’ll see a little Facebook “like” button in the left-hand sidebar (right under the hot white torso wearing the hot red boxer briefs). Click it, won’t you? We need friends! And sharing! On Facebook!

I’ve been a connoisseur of men’s briefs since early childhood.
Behold the rapturous glee on my chubby chipmunk cheeks!
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SeaL Shepherd may have succeeded in removing our page from Facebook, but he can hardly prevent us from sharing content in the form of links.

Can’t stop the schlong, yo.

(A note for the newbies and occasional readers: if all this cock talk has you flummoxed, go here for some background.)

Tofurky Pizza with Daiya Cheese has finally made its way to Kansas City!:

The Whole Foods in Overland Park, to be more specific. And now it’s in my freezer. Nom nom nom.

As if this isn’t already more awesomeness than the KC metro area can handle, Kansas City is now home to a brand-spanking-new vegan bakery. Gluten-free, to boot. And, if you live in the KC area, they deliver!

Shane ordered a box of Golden Girls – the vegan feminist version of “real” Twinkies, if you will – for delivery to his office Monday.

They are super-yummy – a little denser than Twinkies (according to Shane; I’ve never partaken), with a sponge- or angel food cake-like consistency. The creamy filling is the bestest, though methinks the cakes could use more. I say the same of Ronald’s Donuts and Newman’s O’s, so grain of salt.

Egads. In all my excitement, I almost forgot to name drop. Brody’s Bakery is the name of the biz – hit ‘em up on Facebook, and if you’re ever in the KC area, shop team vegan, mkay? Jasmin of Our Hen House also did a nice writeup on Brody’s this week; see Brody’s Bakery Bakes Up Compassion. (Color me jealous, btw.)

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An ad for Butch dog food, in two parts. The panel on the left shows neatly wrapped sausage, over which is superimposed the following text: “I’m as guilty as the next girl of licking the odd bone. But believe me, there’s no substitute for being stuffed full of meat.” In the right panel sits a small pug, an expectantly eager look on her face. Just in case her gender isn’t readily apparent, the ad is dripping in pink.

Writing about the life and death of porn star Stephen Hill – perhaps most famous for his role as Barack Obama in Palin: Erection 2008 – in Salon, journalist Susannah Breslin bemoans the fate of male porn actors, or “mopes”:

If porn is a joke — and, particularly these days, it most assuredly is — male porn stars are its punch line. Reams of text have been written about how porn supposedly victimizes the women who work in this branch of the sex trade, but inside the straight porn industry, it’s the female performers who have the greater power, higher status and bigger paycheck. [...] So-called woodsmen are paid significantly less than their female counterparts, for their efforts are treated like props on the movie sets where they perform near Herculean sex acts of which most men can only dream [...] and more often than not end up as decapitated, frantically thrusting tubes of meat in this industry’s final product. Due to the hardcore nature of the porn business and the toll it takes upon all its workers, the porn industry functions as a meat grinder for the human condition, and men are its offal. They may score bragging rights as professional cocksmen, but the reality is these are the working stiffs of a business that has virtually no interest in the men it employs and all the interest in the world in the women with whom its movies are forever preoccupied.

Just two paragraphs previous, Breslin described a visit to the set of a porn film, circa Valentine’s Day 2001:

From the outside, it’s one more stucco building on a suburban street in the San Fernando Valley. Inside, some 90 men have congregated to masturbate on a young woman for the making of an adult movie called “American Bukkake 13.”

Sabrina Jade, who has long, reddish brown hair and emerald green, catlike eyes, is seated on a towel in the middle of the floor. A plastic cone has been duct-taped around her neck like a funnel, or an Edwardian collar. Jim Powers, the director, came up with the idea when he saw a dog wearing a similar apparatus around its neck after a visit to the vet.

(Links and emphasis mine.)

Um, yeah. If men are “tubes of meat,” women are the farmed animals who are force-fed the least desirable pieces of their murdered and dismembered cousins. Forced into carnism and/or cannibalism; at once “meat” and “meat-eater.” Enslaved, caged, tortured. Right up until the time when they’re hoisted into the air, hung upside-down by a hook through the thigh, and left to die, throats slit, bleeding out. In the meantime, maybe some randomly passing slaughterhouse worker decides to jerk off into the dying animal’s eyes. Just so he knows, in that 30 seconds, that it’s not he at the bottom of the shitpile, nosiree.

Maybe, maybe not.

And that’s all I’ll say about that.*

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Update, 8/3/10: www.schlongs4seals.com is live! I’m still working on the interactive photo gallery and discussion features, but the blog is functional (and has already logged more posts in August than I was able to write here in all of July) and all of the other pages are done. Also, I’ve uploaded all my schlong-related artwork to a set of photo pages as a temporary solution whilst I hunt the internets for a shiny piece of WP-compatible photo gallery software.

Leads for said software would be both awesome and appreciated!

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Update, 7/14/10: www.schlongs4seals.com is now mine. Muahahahaha! (At the time of this writing, the domain just redirects back to this post, but still: Muahahahaha!) Stay tuned for details!

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Update, 7/13/10: I just received a notice that Facebook deleted my SCHLONGS4SEALS page because:

You created a Page that has violated our Terms of Use. A Facebook Page is a distinct presence used solely for business or promotional purposes. Among other things, Pages that are hateful, threatening, or obscene are not allowed. We also take down Pages that attack an individual or group, or that are set up by an unauthorized individual. If your Page was removed for any of the above reasons, it will not be reinstated. Continued misuse of Facebook’s features could result in the permanent loss of your account.

So, just to recap: serious requests for women to send in their tit shots “for the animals” = a-okay; satirical requests for men to send in their crotch shots “for the animals” = hateful, threatening and/or obscene. Facebook, I do believe you hate women!

Anyhow, I’m currently weighing my options, which look rather slim at the moment. I could try setting up a similar page, but then I risk having my account disabled – a hassle which just isn’t worth it. Flickr might prove more welcoming to a SCHLONGS4SEALS group – I mean, hey, it’s home to entire groups dedicated to sexually harassing upskirt photos (!) – and indeed, the faux PSAs I created are all safe and sound in their own lil’ Flickr collection. But, you know, different social media sites, yada yada yada. My final and grandest idea is to go Thatchers out and launch an entire SCHLONGS4SEALS spoof website. Which sounds great, but OMG I so do not have the free time!

So, we shall see. In the meantime, if you’re on FB and find this whole affair as despicable as do I, why not hop on over to that *other* page and report it for similarly violating FB’s TOS? Seeing as most of us are either women or have friends who are women, might I suggest choosing “targets me or a friend” from the drop-down menu, as this continued objectification of women most certainly constitutes “an attack on an individual or group.” Please and thank you.

A screenshot, taken on 6/26/10, of the “Support For The Seals!” Facebook page. The image shows a fan photo – which has since been deleted – submitted to the page by Petra Simkova, in which the wearer of a pair of white undies (men’s briefs?) is flashing what JK Rowling would oh-so-demurely call a “rude gesture” at the camera. In other words, what we have here is an exaggerated crotch shot and a middle finger – all in all, an adequate summary of my feelings towards Facebook and Michael McDade (aka SeaL Shepherd).
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Update, 7/3/10: If you’d like to participate, but don’t have a Facebook account, not to worry! Just send me your package @ easyvegan [at] gmail.com and I’ll upload it as an admin. You can choose to remain anonymous OR be credited (with a link back to your blog or site), whichever you prefer!

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A bottom-less Pamela Anderson strikes a flirty pose as she models PETA’s ‘Save the Seals’ tee. The shirt is all-white save for a black sketch of a fuzzy-wuzzy seal on its front. The ad’s copy reads, “What do I have in common with Barack Obama, Vladmir Putin and the Dalai Lama? We all oppose the massacre of baby seals. It’s time to end Canada’s shameful slaughter.” And, in red and gray text: “Pamela Anderson for PeTA” and “SAVETHESEALS / END CANADA’S SEAL SLAUGHTER.”
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Over the weekend, I was browsing a few friends’ Facebook feeds when I happened upon Support For The Seals!. Purportedly, the page aims to “raise awareness” about seal hunting in Newfoundland – by (wait for it!) encouraging female fans to post photos of their tits:

Boobs for seals…did he just write that? Yes he did. Show your “support” for the seals!

1) Suggest to 100 friends! (link above)

2) More friends = more boobs = more support for the seals!

Much thanks to these brave ladies! Get your mammos!

Now, if I wasn’t already suffering from blog fatigue, I might offer a coherent vegan/feminist critique of this so-called “campaign” (scare quotes because it reads more like a Girls Gone Wild casting/sexploitation call); and, knowing me, this essay would clock in at no less than 2,000 words. Probably it would contain a good deal of salty language, and not a few references to “the kyriarchy” and “intersectionality.”

For example, I might begin my rant with a brief analysis of the “post your bra color for breast cancer” Facebook campaign on which Support For The Seals! is based, arguing that it:

1) trivialized breast cancer by making it all about the boobies (instead of, you know, life or fucking death);

2) excluded some actual breast cancer survivors from participating (i.e., those who have undergone double mastectomies have little need for bras; insensitive much?);

3) played into cultural memes which reduce women to body parts (What, no “boxers or briefs” campaign for testicular cancer? No, that would be silly!); and

4) did little to actually raise awareness of the issues surrounding breast cancer (Dietary and environmental risk factors, anyone? Time to drop the I word, methinks!), thus transforming the well-intentioned but misguided effort into a day of titillation for Facebook’s (heterosexual, sexist) male members.

I might also argue that Support For The Seals! is infinitely worse than the aforementioned breast cancer campaign, as a) it involves actual photos of actual women’s actual breasts, whereas b) the link between the objectified body part and the cause it’s supposed to further is much, much more tenuous (nonexistent, you might say).

I might point out that, practically speaking, this page does little more than provide a bunch of internet pervs with additional wanking material (as if they’ve a need for more, amiright ladies?); certainly, it does nothing to actually “raise awareness” about Canadian seals and the many threats they face, nor does it provide concrete assistance (material support, monetary donations, volunteer pledges, etc.) to those working to end seal hunting.

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Pages 206 and 207 of Anna Lappé’s latest book, Diet for a Hot Planet (Bloomsbury, March 2010). Principle #2 in her “Seven Principles of a Climate-Friendly Diet” is “Put Plants on Your Plate.” So far, so good, yes? Not so fast! Under “Resources for Principle 2,” Lappé lists the following bullet points: “Viva veggies”; “Support real meat and dairy farmers”; and “Go for grass fed [beef].” Epic Animal, Vegetable, Mineral FAIL.
(Click through to enbiggen the image, the most offensive parts of which I have helpfully marked up with my trusty red Photoshop pen.)
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Nonhuman animals (“meat” and “beef”) and their secretions (“milk”) are not plants, mkay? Unlike, say, pinto beans or watermelon, “beef” has a family and friends; can think, feel and suffer; and screams bloody fucking murder when you cut into its her live flesh. While it’s true that I’ve become all too accustomed to raw, shameless speciesism from environmentalists -

- for example, I just finished reading Eaarth, which was penned by the same stubborn “green” omnivore who penned the intro to your own latest stubbornly non-vegan “green” tome, in which he mentioned vegetarianism but twice (and veganism, not at all), despite a discussion of animal agriculture’s sizable contribution to climate change, i.e., the very focus of his book -

- your recommendation to adopt a plant-heavy diet by consuming animals and animal by-products is beyond mind-boggling; it’s at once factually incorrect and completely lacking in compassion. (Cows as cantaloupes? Hello, objectification!)

I mean, really – how do you expect me to take the rest of your Diet for a Hot Planet seriously after such a fundamental gaffe?

Signed,

x A vegan-feminist environmentalist

P.S. There is no such thing as “humane meat.” An unnecessary and involuntary death is, by definition, inhumane.

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My cynical, misanthropic, impatient, stick-in-the-mud thoughts on Earth Day: “Meat’s Not Green. Save the Planet – GoVeganNow.com”

Graphic shamelessly appropriated and repurposed from PETA2.
(Hey, what’s good for the goose…)

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Mars, Inc. wants you to know that a bitch is a bitch is a bitch – and, whether she be digging for gold or for bones, that bitch ain’t shit.

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Update, 1/14/10:

In the comments, Helen points out that all three animals – (pussy)cat, beaver and chicken (errr, rooster; read: cock) are euphemisms for female and male genitalia. I know, so obvious! How on earth did I miss it!? Especially when I caught the significance of the beaver! Clearly, I’ve been off my game lately.

Anyhow, it’s my feeling that these gendered/speciesist slurs actually make the whole ad campaign that much more distasteful. While the targeting of men in addition to women might help to level the playing field, gender-wise (well, as much as it can be in a culture that disproportionately values women’s physical appearance and beauty – however it is defined – as opposed to men), we’re still faced with the exploitation and mockery of three nonhuman animals in order to sell…waxing products. Add to this the fact that the animals were specifically chosen for their correspondence to sexual slang, and…yeah. Ick, all around.

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One part “sexy meat,” one part zoo porn, with a little child sexploitation thrown in for good measure, these ads for Queen Bee Waxing are all kinds of creepy, no matter which way you slice ‘em. (Not that I’m suggesting that you should slice them! They’re animals, not deli “meat”!)

Queen Bee Waxing operates a Salon & Spa in Culver City, California. Its services include tanning, mani/pedis, facials, eyelash extensions (!), and all manner of body waxing: full leg, half leg, eyebrows, full arm, half arm, back, chest, underarms, lip, genitals, anus – wherever your body generates unsightly hair, the friendly “waxologists” of QB will be there, ripping it violently from its roots.

One caveat: some forms of waxing will cost you extra if you’re a gross, hairy cave-dude. For reals! (Don’t you just love how they assume that all men are hairier than all women? In point o’ facts, my Italian ass just so happens to grow lusher body hair than my husband’s Irish one.)

To illustrate just how childishly smooth QB can strip your bits, they’ve demonstrated their mad skills on unsuspecting animals! (Not for reals – I’m guessing/hoping that the animals below have suffered these indignities in a digital sense only.)

From top to bottom, we have a cat, a beaver [insert obligatory joke re: women's genitals here] and a chicken. Each of them stand stark naked, seemingly bewildered by their own baldness.

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Update, 2/8/10: These lovely ladies are now shaking their meaty bits on Suicide Food!

Update, 1/7/10: In the comments, Cara pointed out that the cow isn’t in leaning on a bar counter as I first thought, but into a car window. She is indeed a prostitute – a “street walker,” if you will – picking up a john (that would be us, the viewer!). In this context, I think it likely that all three “food” animals are dressed as prostitutes from different decades: the ’80s, the ’50s, and the ’20s, maybe?

Just when I thought it couldn’t possibly get any worse.

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To date, all of the advertisements involving “sexy meat” that I’ve dissected have depicted, literally, “meat” – i.e., dead meat. While this conflation of sex with death and violence is incredibly disturbing, the advertisers’ motives for doing so are obvious: clearly, they want us to think not of the living, sentient beings these corpses used to be, but of the delicious, succulent foodstuffs that they have been processed into. Objectified, the animals are things to be bought, sold and consumed. Worse still, they are absent referents – invisible, erased beings whom we aren’t meant to consider at all.

In this context, I’m not sure whether these advertisements for Martini Bitter are more or less disturbing than those for Rachachuros and McCormick seasonings or the DIY tutorial for making bikini-clad turkeys.

Each image depicts a living “food” animal dressed to look like an “easy” woman.

From top to bottom, we have:

“Beef”: In a smoky, hazy (read: seedy) bar or night club, a cow leans suggestively on the counter, as if to order a drink or “pick up” the man standing next to her – that is, the man behind the camera (hello, male gaze!). Her hoofs – which, somewhat suggestively, resemble the tips of two penises* – are crossed loosely at the wrists (ankles?). She’s white, with a full head of flowing white hair. However, the lighting in the bar casts a soft pink hue on her fur.

We know that the cow is a “she” because her body has all the trappings of femininity: she wears a tight blue dress, complete with cleavage and plunging neckline (instead of multiple udders, the cow has been enhanced with two D-cups!); her outfit is accessorized with multiple necklaces and bracelets; and she carries a pink purse slung over one shoulder. (In fact, her garish pink purse doesn’t quite obscure the subtle curve of her ass; you can spot it, hiding in the shadows – if you dare!) The cow wears makeup, too: a hint of pink eyeshadow and lipstick. Sadly, the makeup might be the most tasteful aspect of this “artwork”!

All in all, the “beef” ad has a very ’80s feel about it. Possibly the cow is just a “loose,” liberated women, looking for a one-night stand; or perhaps she’s a (*ahem*) “working girl.” Either way, the viewer is meant to understand that she (*gasp*) enjoys sex – and quite a bit of it, at that.

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