Bearing in mind the recent seasonal gorging, here’s another Classic Sentence from the Guardian. This time courtesy of Neel Mukherjee and his deep ruminations on vegetarianism.

It slowly dawned on me that there were no rational, intellectual or moral arguments to be made for carnivorousness.

Heavens, he’s bold. There simply isn’t a good reason to partake of the flesh. None whatsoever. I do hope there’s a devastating argument to support such a claim.

The meat-eaters had always already lost. This is not the place to rehearse all those arguments.

Ah. Not the place. Isn’t it wonderful when arguments can be won entirely in your own head, with none of that messy business with evidence, logic and stuff you hadn’t thought of? Mr Mukherjee does, however, indulge us with one attempt at reasoning:

Far more convincing for me than all kinds of shocking exposés of the meat industry and the way a piece of steak makes it way on to our plates… was the unimpeachable moral argument against speciesism: because we are the most powerful animals in the animal kingdom, because all animals are at our mercy and we can choose to do whatever we want with them, it is our moral duty not to decimate, factory farm and eat them. It is an argument of such majesty and generosity that its force is almost emotional.

Note the invention of an entirely new prejudice for those so inclined to feel guilty about – speciesism. Note too the sly conflation of meat eating with factory farming and decimation. This “unimpeachable moral argument” could of course be expressed a little less tendentiously,

Because we can eat animals it’s our duty not to.

But then – amazingly – it loses much of its persuasive force. To say nothing of its majesty.

Here’s an update to the ‘seizure-as-art’ evening discussed here recently. The Telegraph & Argus reports, 

Rita Marcalo’s controversial attempt to have an epileptic fit on stage at Bradford Playhouse ended in failure. The Portuguese dancer, who has epilepsy, was attempting to induce a seizure during a 24-hour arts performance. By the 1pm finish she had not managed to do so – despite exposing herself to strobe lights and depriving herself of sleep and food. Playhouse director Eleanor Barrett described the performance as “emotionally demanding” to watch.

Readers saddened to have missed Ms Marcalo’s adventure in self-preoccupation should, however, take comfort. Clearly determined to justify the £14,000 of Arts Council funding, Marcalo promises a second, no less challenging, instalment.

The second part, featuring footage of Miss Marcalo trying to induce a seizure, will be at Bradford’s Theatre in the Mill in January.

One for the diary, definitely. 

Ken Habarta has a collection of notes written by unarmed bank robbers. They range from the polite and apologetic,

Please place all the money on the counter. No (dye) packs or tricks. I am armed. Thank you! I’m sorry!

To the blunt,

I have a bomb, put all your money on the counter.

And grandiose,

You have 15 seconds to put at least $9,000 in $100s & $50s in front of me. Alarms, dye packs, bait money, tracking devices, or follow me out, will equal death. My briefcase will inflict a deadly wrath on all of you in this bank if you follow me. Time starts now!

Others attempt emotional blackmail,  

Give me money or I will blow up a school.

This example, written by Mr Kevin Pinto, may seem unremarkable,  

This is a holdup. Give me 100s, 50s, 20s. Hurry up.

However, the “hurry up” has an almost comedic aspect given that Mr Pinto, who robbed ten banks over a period of six years, committed each robbery during his lunch break. Pinto was employed as a financial compliance officer by the investment firm Paradigm Capital. He was sentenced to six years in prison.

Ken Habarta’s book Bank Notes may also be of interest. Apparently Tuesday and Thursday mornings are popular robbery times. Via Coudal.

Speaking of the Arts Council and its casual arrogance, Karen steers our attention to this little nugget:

Ah, dance, poetry and epileptic fitting. A fine night out by anyone’s standards. But how will this gesture – sorry, seizure – be achieved? Isn’t it all rather messy and difficult to predict?

Chocolate, booze and fasting?

And it’s interactive too. How terribly modern.

[Margaret Thatcher] was the closest thing Britain has ever had to Stalin and Pol Pot.

And,

It is not at all dumb to suggest that Thatcher was the closest thing we have had to Stalin and Pol Pot. That does not imply she was genocidal – merely that of British Prime Ministers it is difficult to think of another who pursued class war and year zero policies as enthusiastically as she did.

Written by Graham, in a heated and bizarre discussion over at Harry’s Place. In the same thread, also by Graham:

Flimsy Bush-Hitler comparisons always look ridiculous.