How to Be an Extremist

I recently did a bit of pre-spring cleaning here. I eliminated all my posts. I want to start over.

Something that is going back up pretty quick is Freelee’s rant on the extremes that people are willing to go before changing their diets.

…Because most of the time, I get frustrated when people won’t consider helping themselves with the most basic resource available to pretty much everyone: what you decide to put in your own mouth.

Here is the transcript from her video. Below this, you will see my quick addition to her list.


Today’s rant is about a statement that I get all the time. I have probably heard it a thousand times.

And the statement is:

“What? I can’t believe that you don’t eat animal products. I can’t believe you don’t eat meat, dairy, or eggs. That is so extreme. I could never do that.”

And my answer is generally like this:

Really? Is that so extreme?

Extreme for me is losing your leg to diabetes because you didn’t want to change your diet.

Extreme for me is walking around carrying an extra one or two people on your back all day because your diet is keeping you a lard-ass.

Extreme is the humiliation of going to the doctor every week to have some guy fiddle with your prostate or stick is finger up your bum.

Extreme is living with exema, rosacea, skin problems all over your body and face and not changing your diet.

Extreme is saying how much you love your pet dog and then paying some impoverished immigrant slaughterhouse worker to put a meat hook in the face of a baby lamb for your dinner.

Extreme is not being able to run a hundred meters with your kids without getting out of breath and having to use an asthma puffer.

Extreme is taking ten different medications and then dealing with side effects like seizures, brain swelling, anal bleeding, loss of eye sight.

Extreme is being cut open on the operating table, having your insides exposed to stale, hospital air, to get your arteries unblocked from your poor diet.

Extreme is forking out thousands of dollars on pharmaceuticals, doctors’ visits, hospital visits when you don’t have to.

Extreme is having your breasts removed unnecessarily then having a doctor tell you, “Sorry, it spread.”

Extreme is giving blood every month for the rest of your life because you have hemochromatosis and don’t want to change your diet.

Extreme is taking Viagra to get a hard-on because the diet you’re eating is restricting blood flow and oxygen to your penis.

Extreme is shooting up insulin several times a day and being covered in pustulent, infectious, diabetic ulcers.

Extreme is getting a gastric-by-pass operation, which kills so many people it’s virtually suicide.

Extreme is paying someone to inject mustard gas—aka “chemo”—leftover from WWII into your veins when you’re sick. Since when does poison make sick people well?

But eating plant foods is f**king extreme.

Yeah, right.

Dealing with all the things I mentioned and not changing your diet is extreme.

Extreme is choosing to die rather than choosing to change your diet.

(Go fruit yourself! Go vegan!)


I would like add to Freelee’s list of extremes that people are willing to go before changing their diet. The author of this piece did alter her diet some, but the final solution to her horrible, chronic gut problem, involves pooping into a blender and then asking your niece if her poop can be put inside your colon. My heart goes out to Tessa Miller—I feel terribly for her and what she went through. I cannot help but wonder if eliminating all meat and all dairy—always—would help her avoid having to suffer one day more of this syndrome.


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