I would like to address the following letter PETA sent to Ben Cohen and Jerry Greenfield of Ben and Jerry’s ice cream:
On behalf of PETA and our more than 2 million members and supporters, I'd like to bring your attention to an innovative new idea from Switzerland that would bring a unique twist to Ben and Jerry's. Storchen restaurant is set to unveil a menu that includes soups, stews, and sauces made with at least 75 percent breast milk procured from human donors who are paid in exchange for their milk. If Ben and Jerry's replaced the cow's milk in its ice cream with breast milk, your customers--and cows--would reap the benefits.
The breast is best! Won't you give cows and their babies a break and our health a boost by switching from cow's milk to breast milk in Ben and Jerry's ice cream? Thank you for your consideration.
When I was being publicly booed for being American in a Swiss McDonald’s one night last summer, I thought to myself, “Hmm…Switzerland might suck a little.” Well thank you PETA. I know have more conclusive evidence that yes; Switzerland indeed does suck a little. Any country where breast milk is a socially acceptable substitute for cow’s milk might actually suck a lot.
Why does life seem like a never-ending episode of Punk’d these days? I mean, this week I’m working in that architecture firm to train the person who got the job over me, Sarah Palin conceivably has a chance at becoming the President of the Free World and now breast milk is replacing cow’s milk. Ashton, isn’t there a digital camera commercial you should be shooting or a dead career you could be mourning? Get outta my life!
My first question after reading this letter was, who would consciously eat a soup, stew or sauce made with breast milk? I know you’re thinking, “But Meg, you drank breast milk when you were a baby!” Yea, I did. I also crapped my pants a lot and tried to eat my hand, but yes, I drank breast milk. And you know what? I really don’t like thinking about it. I find the entire situation a little creepy. I also don’t really remember ever being given an option at the time. Had I been given the option, I would like to think I would have gracefully declined.
Milk as a food grosses me out, whether from a human or a cow. I don’t drink milk as a beverage (and think it’s intensely creepy when other people do); I use minimal milk in my coffee and drain the excess milk off my spoon when eating cereal. I also dread thinking about when I’ll have to breast-feed my future kid. Oh dear God in heaven, my skin crawls just thinking about it. I’m not a worker bee, and accepting the fact that my body makes food for another human being is entirely disturbing. I know it’s “natural” and “beautiful,” but F that S. It’s like those people who eat a mother’s placenta after giving birth because it’s rich in protein. You know what else is rich in protein? Beans. 2 for 1 at Safeway this week. Just a thought. Giving birth to your lunch can be such a hassle for the girl on the go…
Why exactly does the switch from cow to human even need to be made in the first place? Were cows complaining they’re chaffing and tired? Is it because if we procure our milk from women we can ethically repay them with money whereas we pirate milk from dairy cows with no payment? Well here’s my argument to that—it’s a fucking cow. That’s why cows exist. Jebus made cows to give milk. It’s their job. If you want something graphically designed, come to me. If you want a tall glass of milk, go to a cow.
What would a cow do if we didn’t milk it? Would it go on to win an O. Henry award for it’s satirical short story about the current state of racism in our society aimed to make us confront our own deep hidden social phobias? No. It would stand in a field and vomit up some dinner. [This is now edging on an anti-vegan/anti-vegetarian rant and I apologize. I actually have no beef with vegans or vegetarians (pun intended!) That’s more Becca’s schtick.]
Can you imagine some sort of freaky Soylent Green society where all of the milk is procured from women? I’m sorry PETA, but I don’t want to live in a world where I could be at work in a conference room and all of a sudden my boss starts honkin’ my boob because he had PB&J for lunch and really needs something to wash it down before he makes his presentation.