I pass a car plastered with bumper stickers. It is disease this, reading bumper stickers, and I got the fever. One catches my attention. It says something along the lines of:
If animals could speak English, you would not eat them!
I turn Levin down. Light, his show is not. And I think, is this true? That speech-enabled animals would turn me away from my a-gnawing habit of lunching on them?
And what if I did not speak English? Does the Russian shrug off the New Yawkah cow who warns him: hey, yous hold it right there, mistah! Would not the uncomprehending Russian just sip his vodka mouthwash and go about his business?
Of course, if the bovinely, four-stomached* one uttered: Эй мудак, посмотреть его, in a grassy, Siberian-accented drawl, than perhaps the message would be received.
Ever my friend, Google, had a veritable buffet of vegan links speaking to this issue, of animals having the ability to talk. Over 3 million drooly posts.
Funny forum responses to this question: Yeah and what if your corn and arugula could speak? Shut up pig (shotgun blast)!
No one was swayed by this logic. That if our t-bone once quoted Goethe, we would stop eating meat. . .
Shall we review some other interesting grub-related stories of the week? I say yes! (Imagine this bumper sticker: If a blogger can write in tasty English, would you dine on his writing?)
Mrs. Tom Brady herself, Gisele Bundchen, had this to say about her son:
My children, they are like white canvases. When Benjamin eats broccoli, he thinks it’s dessert!
It is clear that this Patriot supermodel has her psyops down. Although easily tricked, little Benny Brady has got some good genes.
My hope for him is that he is able to read prevent defenses and can throw a tight spiral 60 yards downfield. But knowing how wacky this world is, perhaps he will grow up reading audiences from catwalks and throwing parties for androgynous wo-mannequins.
Last question for the billionaire
Gazelle Gisele: why did she not adopt the last name of her pass-happy (in football-lingo only) husband? Does not Gisele Brady have a nice ring to it? I think so. Or is it too Brady Bunch? Or Brady Bundchen? She had better be careful about having too many kids. Her life may come to resemble a television show. The Bundchen Munchkins.
Have you heard about this restaurant in Germany that caters to cavemen, cavewomen, and cavekids? Here is the meat:
No cheese, bread or sugar are available at a recently opened Berlin eatery.
In fact, guests are served dishes made only of ingredients that would have been available to their hunter-gatherer ancestors.
The Stone Age fare is prepared by adherents of the Paleolithic movement, who say their restaurant is the first of its kind in Europe.
The restaurant menu shows a stereotypical image of modern humanity’s forbearer, the jutting profile of a hirsute caveman.
Inside, diners eat at candle-lit tables with a contemporary cave painting hanging in the background.
These hints aside, Berlin’s Sauvage restaurant looks similar to many of the German capital’s other trendy eateries.
But the chalkboard out front announcing a “Real Food Revolution — Paleolithic Cuisine!” alerts diners to the fact that their Stone Age menu might offer up some surprises.
Alright, I gotta run. I got a cheeseburger with my name on it. Notice I did not say: I have a cheeseburger saying my name. . .
* I stand corrected: Per cow-likipedia: Cattle have one stomach with four compartments. They are the rumen, reticulum, omasum, and abomasum, with the rumen being the largest compartment. (Readers: do you not find it oddly comforting that the largest compartment is named rumen?)