Morrissey has done it again. In an interview with the Poet Simon Armitage in the Observer last weekend, he called the Chinese a ‘subspecies’. Quite frankly, no matter how much I love the man, it’s unacceptable, as you can’t dub the whole population of a country beneath you, for the acts of a few senseless idiots. Who knows why he did it? He seems too clever and, more importantly, heartfelt to be a genuine racist. Maybe he’s just out of touch, in a world where journalists are eager to pounce upon a (relatively) harmless remark and scandalise it. Maybe it was for publicity, as no publicity is bad publicity. Whatever. I don’t care. The man’s a genius.

What I am going to write about though is what caused him to make such a statement in the first place. Don’t worry, Random Tale reader(s) ( Ite Libby), this is isn’t a rant about China, even though they are hardly my favourite country since that thing in the Olympics, where they replaced that child singer with a prettier one. No, this is about my blurry stance on Animal Rights.

Now, I’m not a vegetarian. I’d love to be one for the moral high ground I so very cherish, but meat is lovely. Most of the time, you just forget that it is the carcass of a mother you’re wolfing down, as it tastes pleasant. Once in a while, you do remember this fact, feel a little queasy and eat the vegetables on your plate until the feeling subsides.

Now, does that make me a bastard? If it does, then so are 96.7% of the Earth’s population, who share the same moral beliefs as me. ( Cheers Google.) Our bodies are suited to eating meat, to the incisors in our mouth to the Hydrochloric Acid produced in our stomach to the protease we produce. Also, our family only buy free range chicken to eat and are getting chickens in our garden. ( Woah. Is it me or did this blog get a whole lot more Middle Class?) So surely that’s OK?

Also, I am more than happy to wear Leather jackets, as I feel like James Dean or one of the Ramones in them. I say I wouldn’t wear fur, but it’s only because it’s vulgar and I have never seen real fur on the High Street. So what I’m trying to get at here is, I, or 96.7% of the Earth’s population, in a position to complain about animal cruelty?

How can we complain about Russians sending a Donkey up into the air, when most of us have been known to eat the slaughtered bodies of Cattle, and then ask for seconds? Why do we give front page coverage of the fact that a woman once put a cat in a wheelie bin for under a day, when there are people strolling around in murdered animals skin?

I’m not sure who I’m angry at. It’s probably just at myself for being an awful, hypocritical human being. I’m in way over my depth if I start debating the morals on whether or not we should eat meat, so I won’t. So to prevent this blog from being completely pointless, I would thoroughly recommend you listen to The Smiths album ‘Meat is Murder’. Just don’t think too much when listening to the title track.