Pigdogfucker

As long as ignorant cunts talk this kind of shit:

Why is McDonald’s considering and even trialling Halal meat in a Christian country? I find this grossly inconsiderate to the majority of the English people who are Christian and would have issues with eating meat prepared in such a way

...I’m going to be on the side of the likes of Rowan Williams purely on an “enemy of my enemy” basis.

1) halal animals do not suffer any more than conventionally-killed animals. If you cut something’s throat with a sharp knife, it loses consciousness long before the pain from the throat wound cuts in;

2) if you give even the slightest flying fuck about animal welfare (rather than just about sticking it to the darkies), you won’t be eating at Maccy D’s anyway;

3) Jesus stated quite explicitly that Christians are not bound by dietary rules and are allowed to eat meat prepared along the lines of any other creed, Jewish or Roman. While Mohammed wasn’t about in Jesus’s day, given that halal is a toned-down version of kosher it seems unlikely that the lovey-dovey beardie chap would’ve been too grumpy about the whole thing.

If you’re a vegetarian [*], you’ve every right to criticise halal. If you only eat super-turbo-happy-meat and have got some in-depth scientific research which confirms that having your throat cut is much much worse than being shot in the head with a bolt gun, then you’ve some right to criticise halal. If you’re neither, you’ve every right to fuck off and die.

[*] perhaps “if you’re a vegetarian who doesn’t drink industrially-produced milk or eat industrially-produced cheese”: a free-range-but-halal-killed animal has a much better life and death than an industrially-farmed dairy cow.

I’ve slightly mixed feelings about this Nathan-in-training.

On the one hand, he’s an utter tit; on the other hand, I was an utter tit when I was 18; everyone I know [*] was an utter tit when they were 18; and if my dad had got me some kind of totally national writing gig when I was 18, I’d probably have taken it and made an utter tit of myself in front of a crowd of bitter cynical thirtysomethings.

Ah well, it’s not going to stop the designer-stubblised little twat getting laid with loads of impressionable girlies who think he’s so deep man because he’s like totally a published writer, and it’s just about possible that – particularly if he gets threatened with jail by a drunk Indian policeman, has an AIDS scare after a stupid night in a Thai brothel, and generally has his Nothing Bad Can Ever Happen bubble punctured a bit – he might grow up into someone bearable. Or at least, grow up.

(Via DJCJD and Larry, who are less equivocal)

[*] bar one, for the pedants.