SPAM-BRAINED WHITE FOLKS AND TEMPEH

American people of the cotton-wool between the ears persuasion worship tempeh. Now, before I go any further, I should explain that tempeh is a substance that many elderly Dutch remember from the war years in the East-Indies, where it was cheap and easily assimilated protein.
They don't remember it with any fondness, and truth be told there is good reason for that. It is one of the nastiest things on the planet, barely one step above its Japanese cousin, natto, which many people refuse to touch with a ten foot pole. Your pole.

Tempeh is rotten soybeans held together by mold. Vegan wonder chow.
In its country of origin it is considered a desperate substitute for food.

Tempeh eaters in the United States include young poetic Caucasian males with blond dreadlocks, frowsty earth mothers wearing native bed sheets from Guatemala or Nepal, and chubby blonde bimbettes porking Abdullah or Felipe because that man is a “spiritual aborigine”.
As well people trying to save the planet one insufferable holier-than-thou lecture at a time.


Tempeh is a harangue on a plate.

Tempeh appeals to people who hate humans.


Now, pursuant such people and their loathsome selves:
"Dear Mayor Lee, I am writing on behalf of People for the Ethical Treatment of Animals (PETA) and our more than 2 million members and supporters, including thousands in the Bay Area, with an idea that could help revitalize the struggling Tenderloin district: rename it the "Tempeh District." By discarding an outdated moniker that evokes the horrors of the meat trade, you'll be sending a strong message to progressive businesses and health-conscious residents that this neighborhood is ready for a fresh start."

The TEMPEH DISTRICT?!? Are you morons out of your friggin' minds?!? Gone all bat-shit have you?!?
About the only fresh start that will bring is that out-of-state tourists will think that we named our drug, whores, and cheap booze neighborhood after Arizona.


Tracy Reiman, the arguably depraved author of this foul epistle, continues:
"now's the perfect time to put the city's past in the deep freeze. San Francisco is now renowned for some of the best vegan cuisine in the world, and the city deserves a neighborhood named after a delicious cruelty-free food instead of the flesh of an abused animal. If Tempeh doesn't excite you, how about Granola Flats or Seitan's Lair? You could even run a contest to choose a veggie moniker."

Ms. Reiman, the words 'vegan' and 'cuisine' do NOT belong in the same sentence. The very fact that you DID use them in such close conjunction proves beyond a shadow of a doubt, ANY DOUBT AT ALL, that you are one sick puppy with no taste, no spunk, no vitality, no sense, and no jazz in your life.
What a sad miserable flaccid existence you must lead, you pathetic excuse for an omnivore!


I bet you whip yourself regularly, don't you?

With a birch rod instead of a leather riding crop.

You know, it really isn't 'atonement' if you enjoy it.


Just for that, I think I'll have a nice grilled chop. Cut from the fresh bleeding cadaver of a cute little wooly baaa baaa sheep. Juicy! Mmmmm!
Redolent of garlic and thyme.

Oh waiter? Did my dinner die a happy death?


The Tempeh District? You've really lost it, you weirdo. As far as putting this city's past, or anything else, in a deep freeze is concerned, ms. Reiman, sensible people would advise you to do precisely that to everything you hold dear, including those poor victimized subhumans you call family. Surely having to associate with so sanctimonious a twat as yourself must be absolute torture for them, a fate worse than death.
Your loved ones cry out for meat, animal protein! Oozing cuts of beef!
And you malnourish them with soy bean jerky! How cruel! How vicious!

They probably go to bed weeping every night, scared of what new depravity you and your food-hating space-alien cabbage overlords have planned for them. If they are never to get that hot bloody steak they crave, their lives are worse than death - deepfreeze the poor shmoes and put them out of their misery.

If, on the other hand, you have succeeded in brainwashing them, they have no souls, and have become nothing more than zombies, the living dead, pallid and spongy victims of your brain-rotting Puritanism - and they deserve the merciful sleep of the meat locker.

I hope you wake up with a side of bacon on your pillow, ms. Reiman.

Bacon!!!

The Tempeh District! Feh! If it was still winter, ms. Reiman, I would kill a bunch of feral cats and wear their pelts to spite you.
Instead, I'll just massage the soles of my feet with lard.
It's SO good for the skin.
Softens the hardened tissues.
It's also wonderful for leather.


==========================================================================
NOTE: Readers may contact me directly:
LETTER BOX.
All correspondence will be kept in confidence.
==========================================================================