When hyperbolical postures are taken, liberties are sure to follow.
Meat is murder, is it? An animal’s soul is the equivalent of a human’s, you say?
If I look perturbed at this point it is only because it odd to me that you could believe those things, and tell me so over a lunch where I chow down on animal right in front of you.
“It’s been fun calling you a mass murderer while watching you engage in your crime and spending money in a place that profits from it! Let’s do it again soon! Same time next week?”
You don’t get to adopt a posture that paints me as evil and then remain my friend or even a friendly acquaintance. Because once you do so, I will lose all respect for you. Either you don’t believe a fucking thing you say, or you are comfortable with self-delusion and complicity in evil to a degree that would make Eva Braun wince.
If you want to hate me for what I am, or the kind of ideas I have, or the things I have done and do, that is your business. You are more than welcome to. But understand that I will not be a prop in some identity constructing, moral outrage performance. I am not a scratching post. Call me the devil because I’m a white male? Disregard my perspective and voice because of it? So be it. I can understand why a person would choose to adopt that posture. The second you do, however, you and I are done.
No great loss to either party, I suppose, but there it is.
Muse Vassal 