Pathway to Japanese Literature

On September 4th of last year, I attended the Vegetarian Grand Festival held in the small mountain village of Hiltey on Newfoundland Island, representing all Japanese believers.

Now, as many may know, we Vegetarians are fundamentally a collective united by abstaining from animal products. Though rendered as 'vegetarians' in Japanese, this carries stronger implications than mere '-ists.' To translate us as 'vegetarian devotees' might perhaps overstate matters, yet I believe it reflects reality more accurately than '-ists.' Naturally there exist various factions within our ranks, but when broadly categorized by underlying ethos, we divide into two: the Sympathy Faction and Prevention Faction.

This name was originally coined mockingly by outsiders, but since it so aptly captured the essence, we ourselves adopted it without hesitation. The Sympathy Faction—to which we ourselves belonged—held a philosophy much like Buddhism's teachings: that all animals cherish their lives no differently than we do. When one being survives by taking hundreds or thousands of lives daily through consumption—not merely one—remaining indifferent to this revealed our thinking's insufficiency. Only by truly imagining ourselves as those being eaten could we grasp how pitiful such acts were and why they must be rejected. However, the Prevention Faction differed slightly in this regard—they abstained from consuming animal products primarily for disease prevention purposes. That meant excessive consumption of meat or dairy caused various undesirable consequences—rheumatism, gout, malignant swellings among them—leading those who found such illnesses disagreeable or had predispositions toward them to join this alliance. Therefore members of this faction engaged in various activities—making butter and cheese from beans or establishing plant-based hospitals—to implement their principles.

Now, while we had broadly divided Vegetarians into two factions based on their underlying spirit, conversely classifying them according to their methods of practice yielded three categories. First, there were those who held the belief that animal products must not be consumed at all—meaning not just beasts and fish or any meats, but also milk and its derivatives like cheese and butter, even confections containing eggs such as castella sponge cake. In Japan's case, this extended to prohibiting dishes containing even a trace of katsuobushi dashi (fermented bonito fish stock). This method could be found in both the Sympathy Faction and the Prevention Faction, although the majority who practiced it were from the Prevention Faction. The second category permitted cheese, butter, milk, and eggs, reasoning that since these did not directly take lives, their consumption posed no issue. Moreover, they were unlikely to significantly harm one’s body—a relatively moderate approach. The third category—to which we ourselves belonged—argued that even if one avoided taking lives and kept oneself pure, it amounted to nothing if other creatures still suffered; ultimately, we abstained from eating them out of compassion. There was no need to scrutinize every minute detail through laborious processes or inconvenience others to such extremes. Should the preservation of many lives ever require sacrificing one, they maintained it was permissible to consume it tearfully out of necessity—provided that if called to be that sacrificial one, one must not shrink from that fate. However, since such extreme circumstances were truly exceedingly rare, they maintained that in daily life we must of course prioritize plants and strive not to kill animals, while earnestly warning against becoming solely preoccupied with personal purity and thereby forgetting the vital spirit.

Now that you have a general understanding of what Vegetarians are, I shall proceed to recount the events of last year's Grand Festival.

I arrived at the port of Trinity in Newfoundland precisely two days before the Grand Festival. As it turned out, what I had feared might be too late arrived at just the right time, so I was greatly relieved. I became acquainted with six people from Turkey aboard the ship. Their leader was a geologist. They said that after participating in the Grand Festival, all six of them would immediately set out to explore Canada’s northern frontier. We disembarked from the ship and immediately prepared our travel gear before setting out for Hiltey Village. To tell the truth, when I departed Japan, I had assumed that once we reached Newfoundland, everyone’s eyes would naturally turn toward Hiltey Village—that travelers gathered from around the world would be streaming in that direction, making the path immediately apparent. However, while I had managed to become acquainted with six Turks aboard the ship, when we actually disembarked in Trinity town, there were no such posters displayed anywhere, nor a single soul who spoke of Hiltey—I found myself somewhat taken aback. [Several pages of manuscript missing here]

We left the town and took a small path along the white coastal cliffs. With the sky overcast, the Atlantic appeared like thinly rusted tinplate; the autumn wind whipped up white wave crests as countless small fishing boats lined up and made their way through. The lower branches of the larch trees had already turned brown. The Turks proceeded along, striking hammers against rocks jutting out onto the path and chattering animatedly as they went. I walked alone behind them, carrying an empty trunk. After walking for about an hour and a half, we came to the summit of a pass along the sea.

"Hiltey Village should be visible by now." The expedition leader and geologist came before me and said in English while examining the map. We carefully gazed into the distance. At the bottom of a valley thick with cypress trees, five or six white walls were visible, and into that valley, the sea stretched like a fjord, a deep azure. “Could that be Hiltey Village?” I asked the expedition leader. The expedition leader was intently comparing the map with the terrain before his eyes when, after some time, he adjusted his glasses slightly and—

“That’s correct. “That is Hiltey Village. “Our church is likely that flat-roofed house visible third from the right. “There seems to be a flag or something erected. “So Mr. Davis resides over there, I see.” As for Davis—some of you may know him—he was, so to speak, the elder of our faction, the chief editor of Vegetarian Monthly, and had now become the chief priest of this Grand Festival. At that, we suddenly regained our vigor and practically raced down the pass in one breath. The Turks, with their long legs and backpacks, moved like iron sand drawn to a magnet—[several pages of manuscript missing]

Gazing at the surrounding scenery as they went, they walked in groups of three or five, swinging their walking sticks. There were also quite a few women. I also met a person with a yellowish face who appeared to be Chinese. I stared fixedly at that face. The other person also came to a standstill. However, on that day, we ultimately parted ways without exchanging a word, though there was no doubt that this person too was a Vegetarian who had come for the Grand Festival. We arrived at the church. The church was a crude plaster structure, cracked here and there. It was likely Mr. Davis’s own house, though undeniably large. Flags and electric lights were skillfully combined with cypress branches and mistletoe for decoration, and seven or eight people were still busily preparing for the day after tomorrow.

We stood at the church entrance and pressed the bell.

Immediately, a vigorous-looking old man with a reddish face and white hair emerged from the side room holding a hammer—[several pages of manuscript missing]

Then he entered holding about ten small pamphlets printed on peach-colored paper.

“Good morning.” “Oh, think nothing of it. If anything, your concern is rather endearing.” “Good morning. “May I please take a look at one of them?”

I took the pamphlet. I still have it with me now, but it was written thus. “§ Eliminate Narrow-Minded, Uncivilized Vegetarians.”

Malthus's population theory remains qualitatively unquestionable today. Its essence lies in this: while habitable land remains fixed worldwide and food production increases arithmetically, population multiplies geometrically. Thus humanity's sustenance must inevitably dwindle. When considering nourishment sources for mankind, we find them confined to three types—animal, vegetable, mineral. Of these minerals provide only water and salt. The remainder divides roughly equally between flora and fauna. Yet now emerges a faction of narrow-minded melancholics who declare animals too pitiable to eat, seeking to enforce this view globally. These are Vegetarians. Their doctrine constitutes nothing less than an attempt to rob humanity of half its sustenance. To rephrase—do these advocates not scheme to condemn half our species, one billion souls, to starvation? Under contemporary jurisprudence across all nations, homicide receives supreme punishment. Though indirect in method, Vegetarians remain equally culpable for this crime. That international committees shall soon convene to deliberate and administer severe penalties stands beyond dispute. Furthermore, this reality exposes Vegetarian logic as fundamentally self-contradictory. For if Vegetarians abstain from meat through compassion for beasts, Why then would they countenance the starvation deaths of one billion human animals? Are humans not animals too?"

“This is rich.” “What a splendid argument.” “The prose too is truly unparalleled in its absurdity.” “This is truly fascinating.” The Turkish geologist laughed so hard his plump face looked ready to split apart. Everyone laughed. In any case, everyone took off their nightclothes, went downstairs, and rinsed their mouths and washed their faces.

Then we quickly finished breakfast, and since the ceremony was to begin at nine o'clock, we rested on the balcony and waited for a while.

Suddenly, a single signal fire rose near the church. The sky had cleared to a deep azure, appearing like a single pane of lapis lazuli. In that crystal-clear, polished blue sky, pure white smoke shot up, then a long yellow plume came snaking down. That was indeed the mechanical dragon fireworks used in Japan. At that moment, I suddenly realized. I realized that this signal fire had been set by Mr. Chen and that he had launched Chinese-style yellow dragon fireworks, so I excitedly explained this to everyone.

At that moment, once again, the splendid sound of the trumpet from this morning came echoing from afar.

“Here they come. Well then, shall we go see what kind of crowd they’ve brought?” With the geologist at our head, we clattered noisily down to the entrance. Immediately a large red automobile arrived. On its side was written in white letters “Chicago Livestock Association.” Six men with their hair practically bristling upright, stripped to their shirtsleeves and faces flushed crimson, went about scattering gray and brown leaflets while shouting something. I took one of the gray ones. On it was written in red letters as follows.

“§ Eliminate Narrow-Minded, Unscholarly Vegetarians.”

The Vegetarians’ arguments are entirely fallacious. Let us now critique this gloomy, unscientific ideology through animal psychology. Vegetarians claim they abstain from eating animals out of pity. But how can they truly know animals feel pitiable? This is merely their own subjective perception. Pigs possess no advanced concepts like death. Their existence consists of sequential present moments—hunger pangs, gnawing turnip stems (delicious!), boredom, sleep, waking with stuffy noses, loud snorts, renewed hunger, devouring wheat bran (delicious!), exhaustion, more sleep. The squealing before slaughter stems from being dragged or struck. To prove this: even when offering eggs thirty paces away—with no intent to kill—just tie a rope to a pig’s leg and pull. The pig still squeals identically. Thus, to truly pity pigs: quietly avoid angering them, feed them treats beforehand, then suddenly plunge them into boiling water—they’ll rejoice as their hair slips clean off. Our association delights countless pigs through this method. The Vegetarians remain ignorant of this. Projecting their own fear of death onto all creatures. “Such infantile logic.”

I tried to force a laugh but somehow couldn't manage it. The Turkish geologist too had finished reading a yellow pamphlet and was making a strange face. We exchanged glances. Then we silently swapped pamphlets. The yellow pamphlet read as follows: "§ Eliminate Narrow-Minded, Unscientific Vegetarians The Vegetarians' arguments are entirely fallacious. Let us now briefly critique this from a biological taxonomy perspective. You claim to pity animals - but where exactly does 'animal' end and 'plant' begin? Are cows and amoebae pitiable because they're classified as animals, while bacteria get immunity for being plants? Calling bacteria plants and amoebae animals is merely an arbitrary designation for research convenience. Are you saying it's cruel to eat conscious animals but permissible to consume unconscious plants? Admittedly, plants appear devoid of consciousness. Yet its absence remains unproven; upon closer inspection where one might expect it, evidence of consciousness emerges. Fundamentally, the biological realm forms a continuum - if animals possess consciousness, plants must inherently share it. Vegetarians, cease eating plants too. You will starve. Proclaim this worldwide. Two billion will perish. This neatly fulfills your wishes, does it not? And afterward, wouldn't it be ideal if animals and plants simply ate and were eaten by one another?"

I felt even stranger. There was another brown one as well.

“Shall we exchange them once you’ve finished looking?”

I said to the person next to me. “Yes,” The person hurriedly handed over a brown pamphlet. I handed over my own as well. On it was written in black as follows. “§ Eliminate Narrow-Minded, Unscholarly Vegetarians.”

"The Vegetarians’ arguments are entirely fallacious; let us now explain this from a comparative anatomical perspective in plain terms. Humans are zoologically structured for an omnivorous diet. This becomes evident when examining dental morphology. We possess molars characteristic of herbivores alongside canines typical of carnivores. An omnivorous diet constitutes humanity’s natural state. We are thus physiologically destined for it. To deny this truth amounts to rebelling against nature’s bountiful design. Cease these gloomy and infantile delusions, Vegetarian gentlemen."

“Hmph.” “These pamphlets are all rather well-constructed this time.” “Exactly the sort of argument anyone might make.” “Yet there’s still something peculiar about their tenor.” The Turkish geologist spoke these words with a faint pallor to his face. “It’s not merely peculiar—every argument has been rigged entirely to serve their convenience.” “Just Livestock Association propaganda after all,” declared one of the Turks.

At that moment, the trumpet sounded again from across the way. The sound of gasoline engines could also be heard. To tell the truth, my heart pounded a little at this moment. Immediately, another red automobile came and scattered small white papers as it departed.

We hurriedly read the pamphlets. In it, written in red letters, was the following.

“To the Vegetarian Gentlemen: No matter how strenuously you all subsist on potatoes, cabbage, and wheat flour, the coast suffers from an excessive catch of fish. Having died in vain with none to consume them—how pitiful—the fish are all shoveled into cauldrons, boiled until buoyant, then skimmed and pressed in screw presses. The oil remaining in the cauldrons becomes fish oil. It now costs ten cents per can. A single can of sardines contains roughly seven hundred fish, mind you; what undergoes pressing becomes fish meal at six cents per kilogram—equivalent to five hundred sardines per kilogram. You must refrain from visiting the coast and becoming dizzy. Nor may you grow dizzy at farms, for that fish meal makes cabbages and wheat thrive splendidly. Moreover, cultivating one cabbage requires eliminating at least a hundred caterpillars. And when partaking of boiled fare or using hot water in this town, sirs, take care not to grow dizzy. As you know full well, our town’s gas derives not from coal but through dry distillation of fish oil. I shall have the pleasure of elaborating further when next we meet.”

When we finished reading this pamphlet, I must confess, we fell completely silent for a time. Theoretically speaking, it seemed to us that these opponents' arguments were prevailing. Yet neither I nor those six believers who had come from Turkey meant to abandon vegetarianism or wholly endorse their claims; we simply found it disagreeable to have this Grand Festival's commencement tarnished in such fashion. To dismiss it as mere diversionary amusement would have been too indulgent toward their malicious craft.

However, once again, a signal fire rose from the direction of the church. In the azure sky, white smoke burst open with a thumping rhythm. What emerged from the smoke was unmistakably a Chinese-style five-colored lotus flower this time. So it was indeed Mr. Chen—he had realized the sutra passage about 'blue radiating blue light, yellow radiating yellow light, red radiating red light, white radiating white light,' I marveled inwardly as I gazed upward. Truly those lotus petals came drifting down faintly aglow through the fresh morning sky of Hilti Village's Vegetarian Grand Festival on Newfoundland Island.

Then, from the direction of the church, a lively band began to play. As it was downwind, we could hear the music as clearly as if holding it in our hands. The performance was conducted with full formality. At first, we thought they must have commissioned this at great expense from the mainland, but we later learned that the renowned Snyder was among our comrades. Snyder had apparently brought his entire band—though half were already Vegetarians—arriving here himself just two days prior. In any case, though nearly an hour remained before the ceremony's commencement, such lively proceedings left us unable to remain idle; we hurried back upstairs to change into formal attire. The Turks all wore crimson turbans and sashes, with the geologist particularly dazzling as he adorned his jet-black coat with medals and decorations from various lands. I donned a white linen frock coat tailored at Mitsukoshi—naturally reflecting personal taste rather than formal protocol. Yet while clothing fundamentally serves to ward off cold in our Eastern tradition, it also holds true—as Carlyle observed—that adornment reigns supreme. Thus I felt no compunction, for proper attire lies in wearing what suits one's person. In truth, garments exist not for oneself but for others. Since we cannot see our own full appearance, it suffices if others find refreshment in viewing us.

Now we departed from the inn. It turned out that we were not the only ones who had grown impatient waiting for the ceremony to begin. On our way to the church, we encountered people dressed in various formal attires emerging from lanes over there and plazas here in groups of three or four. There were tailcoats alongside farmers in thick serge; people adorned with sashes as well as slender young army doctors. All of these were our brothers, so we—setting aside country and class, occupation and name—simply greeted each other as one great fellowship of Vegetarians with “Good morning,” and answered “Congratulations.” And before we knew it, we had formed a straggling line. We entered the church gate in a line. The small gate, which I hadn’t paid particular attention to the day before yesterday, had been transformed into something truly splendid, adorned with red algae and dark green hemlock. As we passed through the gate, there was immediately a reception desk, and we were all asked to present our membership cards. This method must strike everyone as rather narrow-minded, but given this morning’s opposition propaganda and the uncertainty of what infiltrators might do, it was truly unavoidable.

The venue, set up in the church’s spacious grounds with a large circus tent, seemed to have incorporated elements like the tennis courts as they were. A hall large enough to accommodate such a number of people likely did not exist anywhere on the entire island of Newfoundland.

Already, about two hundred eager believers had taken their seats and were waiting. Laughter could be heard like waves. It must have been due to all the talk about this morning’s pamphlets. The gray canvas covering the venue was crisscrossed with black fir branches, interspersed here and there with yellow and orange azaleas. Given such fine weather, with the canvas glowing translucent, the harmony was truly splendid—it seemed as though here indeed would soon be completed the grand ceramic ceiling of the World Vegetarian Congress Hall. At the far end, of course, a high altar decorated with flowers had been set up. At that moment, I heard the sound of the signal fire again. With a start, I hurried out toward the back of the church where the sound had come from to investigate. It was indeed Mr. Chen. Mr. Chen had brought two Chinese child assistants for the signal fires. And all three of them were dressed entirely in Chinese attire today. I had never felt the splendor of Chinese attire as keenly as I did that morning. Mr. Chen was fully attired in black, with only his cuffs and shoes in dazzling white; his hair remained as it had been the day before, but he now wore a Chinese decoration.

Then the child assistants looked exactly like Chinese children from a painting. They had only the centers of their heads left unshaven, closely cropped all around, reverently clasped their hands, and stood behind Mr. Chen. When Mr. Chen saw that I had come, he seemed genuinely pleased and suddenly extended his hand,

“Congratulations. Good morning. It’s lovely weather—and may heaven’s blessings be upon you,” he continued rapidly, delivering his greetings in one breath.

“Good morning.” We shook hands. The two child assistants also bowed to me with their hands clasped together. I too was truly delighted. Under Newfoundland Island’s blue skies, I received this solemn Eastern-style ceremonial bow.

Mr.Chen said. “Now then—we'll set off another blast.” “The rest will come after the ceremony.” “In my homeland’s tradition,” interjected an assistant holding signal fire tools, “this one is called Ryūun Hichō.” “Willow translates as Salix babylonica,” “and Hichō means swallows.” “In Japan too,” he inquired while adjusting his ceremonial sash, “do you speak of willows and swallows?” “We do,” I replied. “Though my memory falters, I believe we once had similar signal fires— or perhaps they were fireworks?” “Or maybe willow kemari?” I added, recalling ancient court games.

“The most renowned site for fireworks in Japan is Ryōgoku Bridge in Tokyo.”

“Yes, besides those, there are also places like Iwakuni and Ishinomaki here and there.” “I see. Now, let us prepare.” Mr. Chen turned toward the two children. One child reverently extracted a smoke signal projectile from the basket. Mr. Chen received it and inspected it thoroughly before declaring, “Good. The fuse.” The other child already held the fuse at the ready. Mr. Chen took it. The first child struck a match with a swift motion. Mr. Chen applied the fuse and hastily cast it into the signal tube. After a moment’s pause came a “boom”—the projectile surged upward through smoke into the azure sky with locomotive speed. Both children stood arms folded in reverence, watching intently. White smoke billowed aloft as popping sounds rained down; blue willow-shaped plumes cascaded while a black swallow form spiraled through them in darting stitches.

“Now, let us proceed to the ceremony hall.” “You stay here and keep watch.”

Mr. Chen said in English, and then we returned to the ceremony hall's tent, leaving the two children's salutes behind us.

Only six minutes remained until the ceremony was to begin. At the entrance of the tent, we received the program. On its front was written: Vegetarian Grand Festival Program Opening Address Debate and Rebuttal Festival Song Chorus Prayer

Closing Address Banquet Member Introductions Entertainment　　　　[End] was printed, and when we received it, it was exactly five minutes to nine. The ceremony hall was packed. Moreover, evidently having been carefully calculated in numbers, there remained scarcely any empty chairs, with not a single person standing unseated. Altogether, there must have been five hundred people. Of these, women must have made up one-third. Diverse garments and hues mingled with orange and blue floral arrangements placed throughout; the autumn air hung clear as water, while the believers too—transformed from their earlier selves—sat hushed, awaiting the ceremony’s commencement.

Directly below the arched altar, an orchestra band led by Snyder formed a semicircle, and to its left were the choir seats. It was said that Grocko of Canada was among the choir members, but I couldn't tell which one he was. However, beneath the altar to the right of the orchestra band, two ceramic placards reading “Heretics' Section” and “Dissidents' Section” were displayed, and in each sat about twenty people dressed in formal attire. Among them were a good number of people who resembled those I had seen in the automobiles this morning.

I also took a seat there at the very back alongside Mr. Chen. Mr. Chen seemed deeply concerned as he repeatedly compared the program with the Heretics' Section and Dissidents' Section across the way. Finally, he whispered softly to me. “The debate in the program—it’s those people across the way who will be conducting it, isn’t it?” “I’m sure that’s the case.” “What do you think? Those in the Dissidents’ Section seem somewhat lacking in presence compared to our comrades, don’t they?”

I also laughed. “It does seem that way indeed.” Mr. Chen spoke again. “But when comparing those in the Heretics’ Section with the Dissidents’ Section crowd, there’s a stark difference again. As for those in the Heretics’ Section—they’re downright repulsive, aren’t they?” “Absolutely.” I finally burst out laughing. In truth, every last one of those in the Heretics’ Section was repulsive.

Suddenly, the crystalline peal of an electric bell resounded through the ceremony hall. Applause erupted like a tempest. Elder Davis, white-bearded and ruddy-faced, stood at the altar clad in a modest black gown. He appeared poised to speak, but seemingly overwhelmed by emotion, found himself unable to utter a word and simply wept tremulously. The believers erupted into fervent cheers and applause. Elder Davis swept his arms grandly through the air and attempted once more to speak, yet again his voice caught in his throat, producing only strange guttural sounds until he collapsed into tears anew.

Everyone applauded fervently once more. Elder Davis seemed to have finally regained his composure, waved his hands grandly three times, and tried to call out something—but this time too, just as before, he broke down in tears. Deputy Chief Priest William Tapping—who was said to be a Javanese missionary, a tall and distinguished old man—could no longer bear to watch and stepped forward to stand beside the Chief Priest. The ceremony hall fell silent.

“Everyone, through his silence at this very moment, the Chief Priest has already expressed countless words.” “Behold, this is indeed the sacred declaration of our festival’s commencement.” “Yet there remain things left unspoken by the Chief Priest.” “These are truly but the dregs of what the Chief Priest sought to express.” “That even this dross—which I, your Deputy Chief Priest, dare convey to you all—should not be censured.” “Everyone, we have endured persecutions both internal and external to uphold the Vegetarian Sympathy Faction’s principles until this day.” “Moreover, this remains socially powerless—confined within each individual soul.” “Yet today we witness the Vegetarian Sympathy Faction’s unyielding solidarity, having precipitated this Vegetarian Grand Festival—a resplendent octahedral crystal—within Newfoundland Island’s pristine September atmosphere.” “That we possess within this Grand Festival some measure of agreeable provocation—this indeed manifests supreme divine providence.” “What constitutes this agreeable provocation? It is none other than the critiques from those gentlemen of heretical sects and dissident factions listed in our program.” “These gentlemen, like all believers present here, are friends of truth who have gathered from across the world for their respective creeds and convictions.” “Doubtless their critiques shall prove most piercing and acerbic.” “The keener their criticisms grow, the more openly shall we seek to answer them.” “This concludes the Grand Festival’s opening address—the final dregs of it.” Deputy Chief Priest William Tapping delivered this address on behalf of Chief Priest Henry Davis.

The applause billowed through the tent; throughout this time, Davis simply staggered about trembling with emotion, shaking his head repeatedly. Amid that applause, Elder Davis was led down from the platform by the Deputy Chief Priest, and a clear electric bell rang throughout the hall. The Deputy Chief Priest once again ascended to the altar, sat in the chair at the platform's edge, then stood up briefly and gestured lightly toward the Heretics' Section.

From the Heretics' Section emerged a tall, portly man in a frock coat, who stepped before the lectern, gave a slight bow, and then began speaking in crisp tones as follows.

“I have two objections regarding the Vegetarian gentlemen’s assertions.” “First: plant-based foods show markedly lower digestibility compared to animal-based foods.” “Granted, animal-based foods contain almost no carbohydrates, so these must naturally be obtained from plants.” “However, when considering proteins and fats, plant-derived ones prove undeniably inferior in digestibility.” “One cannot simply consult nutritional charts declaring beef and peanuts equivalent in value, then wholly substitute beans for beef.” “There may indeed be individuals who scarcely digest plant proteins at all.” “While Vegetarian gentlemen must be fully aware of these facts, what possible justification exists for imposing this regimen upon the infirm, elderly, and even infants?”

“Second—plant-based foods are by no means more delicious than animal-based foods. This cannot be denied under any circumstances. Fundamentally, meals exist not merely for nutrient intake but also as a form of pleasure—nay, an indispensable mental refresher. When exhausted from labor and beset by various hardships—when one might hum a folk tune, enjoy convivial conversation over music, attend theatrical performances, or take brief excursions—meals too serve as vital restoratives for body and mind. I maintain that vegetarianism would drastically diminish this pleasure—particularly since food consumed with genuine enjoyment actually digests better. How do you Vegetarian gentlemen regard this matter?”

Because his argument was quite moderate, we applauded sincerely. Then from our seats, about three people stood up raising their hands toward the Deputy Chief Priest, but he called upon the elderly man at the front. That man, with his white beard and priest-like black attire, ascended the platform and responded in a grave tone.

"I would like to respond to the questions just posed." "That plant-based fats and proteins are not well digested is evident." "That being said, this does not mean they are particularly deficient; it is merely that they prove somewhat inferior when compared to animal-based foods." "There may be virtually no one who completely fails to digest plant-based proteins or fats—and should such a person exist, they would likewise be unable to digest animal-based proteins or fats either." "Now, regarding why plant-based substances prove poorly digested: where proteins are concerned, this ultimately stems from their molecular structure, while fats' low digestibility appears related to their frequent encapsulation within cellulose cell walls." "As one gradually becomes accustomed to a vegetarian diet, digestion too steadily improves." "We have various experimental results available for your later perusal." "There may indeed exist those among the sickly, elderly, and infants who cannot adhere to vegetarianism; we in our faction do not seek to impose it upon them." "However, we maintain that it is by no means natural for animals to prey upon one another—that we must find ways to alter this state of affairs." "Nevertheless, regarding easily digestible foods suitable for meat-averse individuals among the elderly or infirm, we are currently making every concerted effort." "For instance, by slightly decomposing proteins to create relatively simple forms that ease digestion."

"Secondly, that vegetarianism deprives one of much of what makes dining a pleasure—this remains a perspective held by meat-eaters. Admittedly, when ordinarily eating a mixed diet, vegetables are less delicious than meat; however, if one considers the animal's suffering when eating meat, it ultimately becomes inedible. Therefore, even if one forces oneself to eat it, digestion remains poor. Of course, if one maintains a vegetarian diet for over a year, meat comes to have unpleasant odors and such, making it quite undesirable. Fundamentally, the taste of food—like all other sensations—is determined not so much by the object itself as by the refinement or coarseness of one's sensory faculties. Or rather than refinement, we should say it depends on moral virtue. A refined sense perceives goodness in what is good, while a crude sense distorts even good things into bad. Even when drinking the same water, a virtuous person and one without virtue will perceive it quite differently. For the monastic saints who subsist on bread, salt, and water, all components within the bread—dextrin, protein enzymes, monosaccharides, fats—are perceived as delicate flavors. If the bread is rye, they will perceive and delight in its virtues. This is because their senses have attained tranquility. Even when drinking water—whether it be lime-rich water, carbonated water, cold water, or the gentle water of a river—they can quietly savor it. This is because their senses are clear and tranquil. However, when the senses become coarsened, they deteriorate endlessly, growing ever more crude and corrupted. Well, generally speaking, people become unable to discern the true taste of bread and end up using a great many seasonings. Therefore, pleasure does not lie solely in meat consumption. Rather, I declare that vegetarianism contains pure, transparent, limitless joy and tranquility."

The old man bowed and descended from the platform. The applause roared so thunderously it seemed to make the tent billow. The Deputy Chief Priest stood and turned his gaze toward the Heretics' Section. From that section rose a gaunt-faced man with sallow complexion and close-cropped German-style hair. The Deputy Chief Priest offered a slight nod of acknowledgment. The man returned the courtesy and mounted the platform. With eyes brimming sarcasm, he swept his gaze across the entire assembly before beginning to speak.

“I trust everyone has likely read through the five or six pamphlets we presented this morning.” “I am indeed, as reputed, a director of the Chicago Livestock Association and an engineer at a slaughterhouse company.” “But truthfully, our Association has no cause for concern regarding this Vegetarian Grand Festival.” “After all, those Trappist-style ascetics mentioned earlier don’t comprise even one ten-thousandth of humanity today.” “For ordinary people, meat remains both nutritious and delicious.” “Even should others admire your vegetarian efforts, few would emulate them.” “Thus meat demand won’t decline—our Association won’t collapse nor companies bankrupt.” “Hence no need for counterpropaganda or my enduring hours in this glorified sideshow tent’s ‘Heretics’ Section’.” “In truth, I’ve summered here since June.” “When this festival coincided with my stay, I thought—given my profession—to liven things up by disrupting your proceedings. The head office found this most diverting—approving funds and dispatching five engineers as reinforcements.” “We hastily drafted pamphlets—one per engineer—even hiring motorcars for distribution. But truly—” he waved dismissively “—your leaf-munching ways concern us not at all.” “Yet having begun this game, we’ll see it through—explaining each pamphlet individually to savor your tortured rebuttals.” “Note we’ve engaged stenographers—your responses shall grace our journal Livestock Friend.” “As our pamphlets state: You abstain from meat citing animal pity, but animals are mere machines.” “Machines performing digestion, absorption, excretion, circulation, reproduction.” “They entertain no thoughts of mortality, illness, or severed relationships.” “Their nerves serve only instinct and impulse.” “Observe forced fattening—rubber tubes thrust down chicken throats, cramming fivefold or tenfold their normal intake.” “They fatten splendidly—amusingly well indeed.”

"To examine matters like a dog's gastric juice secretion, we cut open its chest, expose the stomach's posterior section, detach the pylorus from the intestines and connect it to a rubber tube, then administer food—now, do you suppose the dog will eat or refuse?" "Oh my, what seems to be the trouble?"

Actually, something happened. The speech was so appalling that four or five women among the audience collapsed, while most of the others gritted their teeth in tears, covered their ears, or cowered in their seats. The hall suddenly erupted into chaos, and the Chicago Livestock Association engineer stood awkwardly on the altar. Those who lost their senses were carried out past us by everyone’s hands, and twelve or thirteen professional doctors stood up and left.

After some time had passed, the hall fell silent. The women were all seething with fury, but as their opponents were heretical critics, no one voiced any objections to avoid appearing cowardly. The Chicago engineer carefully wiped his mouth with a handkerchief and spoke again. "Indeed, the Vegetarian gentlemen's compassion toward animals is truly profound. "I shall take a bit more care with my wording. "Yes, the dog eats it. "It eats vigorously. "Do you see? "We also castrate livestock. "That is, we preserve the energy that would otherwise be expended on reproductive urges or such things. "Well, livestock fatten up splendidly. Animals are entirely machines—to make their legs faster, we make them run; to fatten them, we feed them; to get eggs, we keep them laying; to obtain milk, we keep their young nearby but don’t let them suckle. We can manipulate them however we please. "There is absolutely no need for concern. "I still have much more to say, but since it would be troublesome if you faint again, I shall stop here."

That person descended from the platform.

Amidst the applause, six or seven people rose from our side, but the Deputy Chief Priest beckoned to a young man in mourning attire sitting relatively near the front. That person delivered a speech with a composed demeanor while smiling slightly.

“The point you’ve just raised is indeed perfectly valid. You did mention certain experiments, but regrettably, none of those qualify as proper experimentation.” “You stated that animals are governed solely by impulse and instinct—very well, we’ll let that stand for now. Those very instincts and impulses are entirely driven by the will to live. To say that killing them is wrong—this alone suffices as our answer. However, I believe numerous experiments in animal psychology will provide more detailed information on this matter.” “Moreover, animals are not solely driven by instinct and impulse. As seen in this morning’s pamphlets too, it was stated that all living beings form one great continuum. Human sentiments gradually extend from those closest to humans to those more distant.” “What causes humans pain causes pain to all sentient beings; what brings humans sorrow—regardless of strength or weakness—brings sorrow to every animal. Matters do not proceed as cheerfully as those pigs depicted in the pamphlets.” “Everyone knows the famous case of a pet dog that refused to leave its deceased young master’s grave, abstained from food, and ultimately starved to death; the instances where deer and monkey parents, upon their offspring being killed, pine for them and deliberately court death themselves.” “Horses remember their owners for years and shed tears upon rare reunions. In response to the previous speaker’s claim that Vegetarians seek to forcibly regulate animals through human emotions, I must advise that it is rather our opponents who—deceived by animals’ slight difference in form from humans—have abandoned the compassion arising from their true hearts.” “Anyone might wish to interpret matters self-servingly, but such reasoning cannot hold indefinitely. Fundamentally, our emotions are not so wildly mistaken—the feelings arising from our true hearts prove objectively accurate when examined.” “Animals are truly pitiable creatures. People too are truly pitiable creatures. I implore all debaters to observe the world more profoundly and without superficiality.”

Applause erupted vigorously.

Amidst the applause, a short man with long hair suddenly stood up from the heretical seats and ascended the platform.

“I remain an engineer of the Chicago Livestock Association.” “Gentlemen, you’ve read this morning’s Malthusian population argument?” “You’ll find no flaw in its logic.” “Half of humanity’s sustenance derives from animals, half from plants.” “Cease eating animals, and your food supply halves.” “With wars already raging over scarcity, to deliberately halve it further—however noble your reasoning—defies sanity.” “One billion will starve. Before their end comes chaos—what then will you vegetarians do?” “Charge into your own wars with guns and swords, crying ‘Destroy our enemies!’?” “Or leap en masse into Niagara Falls, wailing ‘God, this wasn’t meant to be!’?” “Futile gestures both.” “No—any statesman would see your path leads to ruin. Regrettably, we’d have no choice but life imprisonment for you all.” “Execution’s unlikely, but life confinement hardly comforts.” “Well?” “Why not repent and abandon this folly now?”

Applause and laughter arose. From our side, a young man in a suit stood up and came forward. “I know that person.” “I spoke with him two or three times in New York.” “He was a college student at the time.” The young man began his speech with a somewhat agitated demeanor. “I will endeavor to answer your questions as simply as possible.” “Humanity’s food supply is approximately evenly split between animals and plants.” “If you don’t eat animals, food supplies will be halved.” “While your reasoning appears perfectly valid, there seem to be rather crude aspects to it as well.” “This ‘half animals and half plants’ premise is fundamentally flawed.” “When you say ‘half-and-half,’ what exactly is being divided equally?” “You may intend to measure by weight, but comparing through weight measurements would put you at a great disadvantage.” “If you were to compare based on the caloric value of the digestible portion within foodstuffs, it would yield relatively accurate results.” “Proceeding thusly—since animal products generally have greater digestibility—you would stand to gain significantly more advantage.” “Though advantageous, this by no means justifies calling it half-and-half.” “Given how rarely such peculiar debates occur, likely no one has performed this calculation yet—but allow me to outline the methodology.” “Please conduct your computations at leisure in the Chicago Livestock Association’s office.” “First ascertain global production figures for wheat, barley-rice, oats, turnips, cabbage—all foodstuffs—then deduct from each category the portion consumed by livestock.” “I advise you not to be overly startled when doing so.”

“Next, from each of these remaining amounts, calculate the digestible quantities of protein, fat, and carbohydrates, then compute the caloric value generated by each and sum them up.” “It would roughly amount to 4,300 trillion large calories or something of that sort.” “This time, for cattle and sheep, pigs, horses, chickens, and whales, we will proceed in the same manner as before.” “The total will come out to something like 2,300 trillion large calories.” “Combine both totals, divide it roughly by two billion and then by three hundred sixty-five, and have them review it at the Nutrition Research Institute or somewhere.” “You will likely respond as to whether there are errors in the calculations.”

“However, all arguments up to this point mean nothing to me—the main response to your first question comes next.” “That critic’s claim—this nonsense about halving food supplies if we stop eating animals—” “This isn’t a joke!” “What exactly do those animals eat to survive?” “They’re not consuming air, rocks or water.” “Cows, horses and sheep eat oats and pasture grass.” “They devour pumpkins and turnips grown specifically for them.” “Look.” “Humans cultivate livestock feed instead of grains and vegetables for themselves.” “Raising one cow requires eight acres of grazing land.” “Suppose we grew quick-yield wheat there instead?” “That land could produce enough annual grain for ten people.” “What about cattle?” “Could ten people survive a year on 160kg of beef—the amount one cow produces annually?” “Fifty grams per person daily.” “Three thumb-sized morsels!” “Wouldn’t you starve?”

“Since you don’t seem to comprehend this, let me put it plainly: If humanity were to negotiate with nature—requesting something equally beneficial as beef and pork but without the ethical costs—they would send us enough sustenance to support far more people than currently survive. That’s the crux of it.” “However, this excludes livestock sustained through marine resources and waste products.” “Yet even when factoring those into our calculations, the numbers remain sound.” “Livestock serve multiple purposes beyond consumption—we obtain wool from sheep, labor from horses and cattle—they fulfill diverse roles.”

“Next comes this amusing idea that halving food supplies would halve humanity—yet those supplies never actually diminish. Not only won’t they decrease—they might even increase slightly. Therefore rest assured—if wars don’t erupt, and even without your fretting over life sentences, all will be well. Rather, vegetarianism brings peace to all hearts, enabling proper mutual love. This should clarify why meat prohibition features prominently in sacred rites across religions. Vegetarianism wouldn’t just prevent wars—it would grant you eternal peace too, sparing you from hiring automobiles for absurd propaganda during your supposed retreats or storming our Grand Festival with vile remarks that make women swoon. Nor are we serving life sentences—we’d receive countless medals from humanity’s fellowship, the Mammal Association, Bird League, Fish Office and such. Well? If you’ve understood, become a Vegetarian yourself.”

Then the previous speaker stood up. He wore an expression of deep contrition, but there was also something about him that seemed to be suppressing an urge to burst into laughter. Dejectedly, he climbed up to the platform.

"I repent. ‘From this day forward, I too shall join the Vegetarians,’ he declared, grasping the young man’s hand. The assembly erupted in thunderous applause. The pair descended toward our section together, while the engineer slumped into the vacant seat, shoulders heaving with labored breaths. Yet naturally, this turn of events provoked fierce indignation among the heretical contingent. Another man—evidently an engineer—mounted the platform with brusque determination."

“Gentlemen, answer my question.” “There exists no definitive boundary between animals and plants.” “As we’ve clearly stated in our pamphlets, this classification is merely humanity’s arbitrary construct.” “If you deem animals pitiable, plants must inevitably become equally pitiable by your logic.” “The protozoa among animals and bacteria among plants share intimate connections.” “In animals we find plant-like hydras and corals; in plants we encounter insectivores and species requiring sleep—disturb their nightly rest and they wither. Some carnivorous plants trap birds; others can kill humans.” “Consider bacteria—until recently, taxonomists routinely classified them as animals.” “Their current placement among plants amounts to little more than taxonomic convenience.” “Naturally, you benevolent Vegetarian gentlemen would never consume or slaughter such ambiguous creatures that might be animals.” “Yet observe: when you casually dress a leaf with vinegar and eat it, the bacteria dying in your stomachs number not mere tens of billions—not even close.” “How many microbes cling to a grape cluster you thoughtlessly consume? More directly—each breath of city air you take murders thousands when pollution peaks.” “So you persist in this charade—‘I’m Vegetarian, I shun beef’—though devouring cattle costs less than a hundredth of one life! Call it hypocrisy or ignorance—either way it’s preposterous.” “If you truly pity animals, renounce plant consumption too!” “To cease killing both kingdoms, subsist solely on water and salt!” “Only drink pristine spring water—freshly drawn, for standing water breeds bacteria! Breathe solely mountain or forest air—urban fumes are forbidden!” “Now then—all you gentlemen must retreat to some silent peak! There breathe pure air, drink virgin water, gnaw rock salt while conducting your precious Vegetarian Grand Festival!” “You mustn’t breathe this air.” “You mustn’t breathe it.”

Applause arose and laughter broke out, but many people remained silent in thought. The man, thoroughly pleased with himself, glanced toward his friend who had earlier repented and become a Vegetarian before returning to his seat. What astonished me was how Mr. Chen—who until that moment had been sitting motionless with arms folded—suddenly rose and departed. Standing at the altar in his Chinese robes, he first met my gaze with a faint nod. Then, composed and in fluent English, he commenced his rebuttal speech.

“Your recent argument was so compelling that I too wished to immediately cease breathing air—but before doing so, I should like to offer a brief response.” “Pray permit me to breathe during this interval.” “Now then—according to your proposition, Vegetarians ought all to subsist on sterile water and rocks while dwelling at altitudes above two thousand feet. Indeed, among us there exist those ardently researching sugar synthesis from carbon monoxide and water.” “Yet here I shall first apply this intriguing notion of biological continuity in manifold ways.” “That is: from humankind through mammals, birds, reptiles, fish; thence arthropods and mollusks down to protozoa; abruptly shifting to plant bacteria; then multicellular ferns and flowering plants—since they form such an unbroken chain, if animals merit pity then all life must be pitied, meaning we must neither consume nor sever flowering plants—yet continuities persist elsewhere.” “Consider human lifespan continuity: infancy, childhood, boyhood and girlhood, youth and maidenhood, prime years, old age—so we categorize it, yet these divisions are mere conveniences without true boundaries. Thus if forty-year-olds may stand for parliament, newborns too must don frock coats to declare manifestos and tailcoats for soirées! If we teach ABCs to first-graders, why shouldn’t universities abandon literature-steeped theoretical chemistry or relativity’s conundrums to likewise drill ABCs?” “Or take another continuity: since abnormal and normal psychology blend seamlessly, humankind must either empty all madhouses or crowd into them—such becomes your logic’s end.” “That this preposterous reasoning seems uniquely applicable to vegetarianism proves its proponents have neither earnestly contemplated nor sincerely enacted it.” “Such sophistry abounds.”

“No matter how continuous they are, there remains a significant difference at both ends.” “Observe the seven colors of the solar spectrum.” “Here we find red and violet at the extremes with yellow at the center.” “Since they differ thus, there is simply no alternative.” “Of course, we naturally feel compassion even toward plants.” “The sages of India strictly forbade needless cutting of grass or trampling of flowers.” “Yet there exists an immense gulf between this and cow slaughter.” “This is understood through common sense.” “Though we cannot say whether consciousness diminishes as bodily structures diverge from humans, we at least do not agonize so when consuming plants.” “This arrangement functions appropriately as intended.” “While much ado was made about bacteria, killing those present differs fundamentally from slaying a horse.” “Bacteria ceaselessly divide and perish, transforming with swift rapidity.” “To speak of ‘killing’ them differs greatly from equine slaughter.” “Moreover, though bacterial consciousness remains unclear, we are by nature disinclined to dwell excessively on their destruction or pity.” “This is proper.” “And unavoidable.” “However, how this may change as human culture evolves and sensibilities refine remains unknown.” “The Indian sages drank no unfiltered water.” “An ordinary cloth filter might block protozoa yet permit bacteria passage.” “In any case, no matter what theoretical arguments are presented, we can only respond that we remain unconvinced.”

"It will undoubtedly be proven theoretically as well." "The man called Mencius in my country said that people of high virtue do not look upon places where livestock are slaughtered or cooked." "This constitutes an extremely moderate view." "For nature does not devise such pitfall-like mechanisms." "We hereby declare our desire to practice vegetarianism through the state of our endowed senses and under the conditions surrounding us." "Herein lies why I dare not retreat to the mountains." Mr. Chen returned to my position amid thunderous applause. While I remained standing to show respect to Mr. Chen, the next disputant had already ascended the podium.

“Silence, gentlemen! “It’s too soon for such celebrations. “Your vegetarian arguments shall be utterly overturned by comparative anatomy. “Observe—how many teeth do you possess? “Thirty-two. Correct. “Four incisors, four canines, the remainder molars and wisdom teeth. “Incisors bite food, molars grind plants—and canines? These rend flesh. “The conclusion is evident. “Molars mark herbivores; canines distinguish carnivores. “Thus human dentition proves omnivory natural. “Therefore humankind’s mixed diet stands as nature’s design. “We must never entertain abandoning meat.”

Everyone had been holding back quite a bit, but his gestures were so comical and he spoke exactly like someone teaching second graders, so they all finally burst out laughing. One person from our seats immediately left.

“I find this comparative anatomy argument you’ve presented rather unconvincing.” “First, while one might debate whether human teeth being perfectly suited for a mixed diet—let’s grant that premise for argument’s sake—how exactly does it follow that vegetarianism must be condemned simply because omnivory is humanity’s natural state?”

“People often claim ‘if it’s natural, follow it,’ but this principle cuts both ways,” he continued, his tone methodical yet edged with irony. “Take field cultivation—we till soil for specific crops, yet nature’s truest course would let weeds overrun everything. That’s genuine naturalness. Should our esteemed opponent ever manage a farm under such principles, I’d pay good money to witness it.” He leaned forward, fingers tapping the lectern. “Consider theft—a perfectly natural human impulse by your logic. Should we then abandon laws against it? And you rail-purists arriving by train—” his gesture encompassed the opposition benches “—if we truly followed nature’s way on railways, wouldn’t collisions and derailments become desirable? Let’s scrap signals and safety protocols entirely! Any objections?” The young man’s smirk lingered as he strode back to his seat. Before the applause faded, another figure rose from the meat lobbyists’ section.

“I had indeed intended to argue in full detail as stated in our pamphlets, but these messy trivial debates have given me a headache, so I’ll be brief: fish will die regardless of whether you all eat them. Take sardines—they’ll either be eaten by humans or swallowed by whales.” “As for thrushes, they’ll either be eaten by people or snatched by hawks.” “Wouldn’t you say sardines and thrushes would rather be eaten by compassionate vegetarian gentlemen with tears trickling down their faces than by pitch-black whales or sharp-beaked hawks incapable of even a proper bite?” “And now, just because it’s vegetarian doesn’t mean you can rest assured.” “In agriculture, there exists the science of pest control, where they consider killing insects by applying pesticides, burning them, or crushing them.” “All farmers do that.” “If you eat a whale, a single whale can feed ten thousand people, and by doing so you would save a million sardines—but if you eat one cabbage, you end up killing a hundred caterpillars in the process.” “It seems everything being done runs completely contrary to your beliefs.” “How about that?”

Immediately, another person stood up.

“I shall respond in but a minute.” “First, no matter how many fish may die, that does not mean we must necessarily eat them.” “Moreover, even if we eat fish, whether they would be pleased about it—such a thing we cannot know.” “Just because they will be killed by something eventually does not mean we can bring ourselves to kill them instead.” “There is even an argument that if humans do not catch fish, the sea would overflow with them, but we cannot proceed with such shortsighted calculations.” “In the end, there will be no resolution if we keep debating such indirect matters—we simply refrain from doing what we believe to be unequivocally wrong.” “While it is said vegetables too demand sacrifice, this we know well.” “Therefore, avoiding waste becomes crucial.” “However, in grain cultivation and such, we do not kill insects so wantonly.” “If one makes comparisons using only extreme examples, such preposterous arguments may proliferate endlessly.” “Ultimately, we can only do what we deem right.”

Applause broke out. The man descended from the podium.

From among the opposition seats emerged a tall, stout man with bristling russet hair—his appearance, if described in Eastern terms, was exactly as the saying "hair standing on end to pierce the heavens" goes—who strode up to the altar in large strides. We applauded generously.

A priest came out alone, stood beside that person, and introduced him. "This gentleman is Dr. Hesius Matton, Professor of Theology at Canada University." “On this occasion, he has graced this Grand Festival in his capacity as an advisor to the Chicago Livestock Association and will now kindly point out any deficiencies in our arguments.” “I shall now offer a brief introduction,” he said thus. We applauded generously. Dr. Matton quietly drank water from his flask, shook his shoulders vigorously, clutched his stomach, and then began to speak with utmost deliberation.

“Sympathy Faction Vegetarians, comrades.” “It is truly an honor for me to have been granted the privilege of attending this resplendent Grand Festival today.” “In this regard, I wish to spend approximately five minutes rigorously critiquing your beliefs from the standpoint of the theology I serve.” “However, the theology I serve is not so narrow-minded.” “The theology I serve can be encapsulated in but two phrases.” “‘There exists the one true God’ and ‘divine providence is inscrutable’—this is our doctrine.” “You who dissent from this—do you still intend to confront the minds of this bright, joyous, and ceaselessly flowing 1920s with the remnants of medieval scholasticism?” “Today’s foremost religious requirement is concision.” “Our philosophy has already gained sixteen million adherents scattered across the globe through these two phrases.” “Nay—is there any God-believer who rejects these phrases? Setting aside petty disputes, does any soul who professes faith deny these two tenets?” Having finished roaring, Dr. Matton struck the table and scanned the assembly hall. The entire venue stood silent as a forest; not a whisper could be heard. Dr. Matton continued.

“Praise be to God.” “God is truly unchanging; God created all things.” “O beautiful Nature!” “The wind ceaselessly plays the organ; the clouds resemble tomatoes and potatoes.” “The flowers by the roadside are some red and others white.” “Diamonds are hard; talc is soft.” “Pastures are green; the sea is blue.” “In those pastures stand fair cows; flocks of sheep gallop.” “In that sea swim blue-adorned sardines and float great whales.” “O wondrously wrought heaven and earth! O Nature!” “How about it, gentlemen? Do you have any objections?”

The hall fell silent; there was no reply. Dr. Matton, thoroughly triumphant now, rose up on his heels and drew a wide circular ring with his hand. “All events within this are divine providence. “All is divine will—all of it!” “Truly awe-inspiring to the utmost.” “The Lord’s grace should be praised, and His divine will lies beyond all measure!” “We in this beautiful world eat bread; wear wool, linen, and cotton; consume celery and turnips; and partake of pork and salmon.” “All of this is Divine Providence.” “It is Divine Grace.” “It is Good.” “How about it, gentlemen?” “Do you have any objections?”

Dr. Matton, now looking somewhat worried and pale, quietly surveyed the hall. Then, with the momentum of a fleeing rabbit, he plunged into his conclusion.

“I am neither an advisor to the Chicago Livestock Association nor anything of the sort. “I have come here solely to proclaim divine righteousness. “Gentlemen, gentlemen—you who believe in God! “Why do you not obey Him? “Why do you spurn God’s grace? “Repent at once and become obedient vassals of God!”

Dr. Matton concluded with a mighty bellow, returned to his seat like lightning, and from there surveyed the hall with a sidelong glance. Applause arose, but at the same time, uproarious laughter also erupted. The reason was that we had been restraining ourselves as much as possible so as not to disrupt the sanctity of the hall, but because the doctor’s arguments were so absurdly entertaining, in the end we finally could no longer contain ourselves. A small believer sitting in the front row stood up and said something to the Deputy Priest. The Deputy Priest nodded deeply.

That person appeared to be this village's elementary school teacher. He calmly stood at the altar and then courteously bowed to Dr. Matton. Dr. Matton had indeed turned pale and was trembling violently. The believer next addressed his greetings to the entire hall. Strong applause arose. That person commenced their speech with a slight Newfoundland accent.

"In response to the heretical criticisms, I intend to answer through a religious speech as permitted by the program."

“Dr. Hesius Matton’s esteemed argument is indeed a classic example of syllogism. First, [Dr. Matton] presented his theology and twice compelled the entire assembly to acknowledge it, using this as his major premise. Then he stated that Vegetarians oppose this theology, establishing it as his minor premise. Finally, he concluded that Vegetarians therefore defy God, implying that through the minor virtue of vegetarianism, they commit the cardinal sin of opposing divine will. This is indeed a concise and clear argument.” “However, that I have some doubts regarding this typical logic is deeply regrettable.”

“Firstly, Dr. Matton’s theology—extracted from traditional Christian theology to suit the 1920s—appears entirely appropriate when considered through these terms alone.” “The people assembled here today are not exclusively Christians; yet regardless of religion, they wish to affirm this principle.” “However, this does not in itself constitute Dr. Matton’s theology.” “This is simply common knowledge.”

"Secondly, regarding the interpretation of that theology, it is where I hold the gravest doubts. When it comes particularly to the interpretation of Divine Providence, Dr. Matton cannot by any means be called a believer. The concept of Divine Providence is by no means limited to Christianity alone—it is a notion common to all religions in general. However, misinterpretations of it, such as those made by our theology doctor here, are in truth found in no small number across whichever religion one examines." "If I were to repeat the doctor’s argument once more—I had taken notes—let me read them: 'All events within it are divine providence.' 'All is all divine will.' 'It is truly awe-inspiring to the utmost.' 'The Lord’s grace should be praised, and the Lord’s divine will is beyond all measure! All of this is Divine Providence.' 'It is Divine Grace.' 'It is Good.' 'And that’s how it is.'" "If one were to condense this further, it would be as follows: 'All phenomena are good because they exist within divine providence—now, this may seem acceptable, but it is in fact extremely perilous.' The 'good' referred to here is that which is seen by God—it is absolute good." "If one interprets this as the good seen by us, then Dr. Matton’s earlier argument is first brought into being: 'All phenomena are good; I eat cattle—good by providence; I get angry and punch Dr. Matton—good by providence; for these are phenomena, events within providence, and the divine will is beyond measure—thus it goes.'" "'I point a pistol at you all and seize your return travel funds—perfectly splendid; someone threatens me until I nearly fail to seize the funds—I fire a shot; that person dies—good by providence.' What’s even more amusing is that here, a group called Vegetarians are saying they don’t eat animals." "'It is divine providence; it is good.' Yet why does Dr. Matton refute this with such fury that his hair stands on end—if described in Eastern terms? At this point, Dr. Matton’s argument ultimately demonstrates that it culminates in self-contradiction." "This conclusion is indeed a splendid phrase."

“However, these are not my unworthy words—they are indeed what I perused this very morning within the Chicago Livestock Association’s carnist propaganda pamphlets.” “Finally, I offer my profound respect to the valiant Dr. Matton.”

The applause seemed about to overturn the tent.

“That’s rather blunt—not very educator-like for a vegetarian,” Mr. Chen said with a booming laugh.

However, even before that applause had died away, a gaunt, nervous-looking man from the heretic seats had already clambered up to the altar. His hands shook violently, and his eyes seemed to be twitching. Nevertheless, after gulping down a glass of water and appearing to regain some composure, he stepped forward and began his speech.

“Dr. Matton’s theology is Christian theology. Moreover, that there were slight regrettable points in his interpretation of divine providence is entirely as with the previous speaker. However, I know that among the Vegetarians gathered here, approximately ten percent are Buddhists. I too am in fact a Buddhist. The reason I, born in a Christian country, believe in Buddhism is ultimately because Buddhism is profound. I am a follower of the Honganji Sect, revealed through Shinran Shōnin—the incarnation of Amitabha Buddha. Therefore, as a Buddhist, I wish to offer a word to my fellow Vegetarian Buddhists here. This world is suffering; of all that transpires within this world, there is not a single thing that is not suffering. Here lies naught but contradiction. All is sin. In our minds, we find not even a speck of goodness. The good that we practice in this world is ultimately a rootless tree. The justice we perceive is ultimately nothing more than what pleases ourselves. Things like ‘this must be so’ or ‘that should be thus’—all such notions amount to nothing. To claim we abstain from eating animals out of pity for them is not something we can rightfully assert. Indeed, it is far from being so. We must take refuge solely in the far-distant Western Savior and Enlightened One, Amitabha Buddha, and depart from this world of contradictions. Only after that may vegetarianism be permissible. This matter is not open to debate; our great teacher Shinran Shōnin—an incarnation of the Buddha—personally partook of meat, and since then our Honganji has continued this practice through the generations. To describe Japanese believers, they have inherited meat-eating as if transferring water from one jar to another. Next, behold Śākyamuni Buddha, founder of Buddhism.”

“Śākyamuni Buddha engaged in six years of austere practice in the forest called Dantaloka Mountain to seek the path of renunciation. He ate but a single grain of rice and a single flaxseed each day. Yet he ultimately realized the futility of those austerities, descended the mountain, washed his body in the river, partook of the cream offered by a village maiden, and thereby attained spiritual ecstasy. Today’s Vegetarians do not even consume milk, eggs, cheese, or butter. These require no debate if one is a Buddhist; even non-Buddhists should find them worthy of significant reference. Furthermore, Śākyamuni Buddha never prohibited meat-eating to his multitudes of followers. He permitted consumption of meat obtained through minimally cruel means, designating it as the Five Kinds of Pure Meat. Modern Vegetarians surpass even India’s ancient sages in dietary strictness. Yet this constitutes an incomplete deformity—though strict in food alone, they disregard every other law established by Śākyamuni. Vegetarian gentlemen, mark this well: In his later years, as his philosophy reached full maturity, Śākyamuni appears not to have been vegetarian at all. Behold—he accepted food offered by Cunda the blacksmith in his final moments. This meal consisted mainly of pork; through it, Śākyamuni apparently rendered irreparable the gastrointestinal system he had already damaged. Thus did he attain parinirvana at eighty-one years of age in Kushinagar. Fellow Buddhists, look to Śākyamuni Buddha as your example! Take his actions as your model! Become his living likenesses; cultivate his virtues at one twenty-thousandth scale—nay, one fifty-thousandth or even two-hundred-thousandth! Only then may vegetarianism be permissible. Aberrant followers like you would trouble even Śākyamuni Buddha beneath the earth!”

The applause was enough to make the tent itself billow.

At this moment, my head reeled from the sheer cruelty of those words. And then I staggered out unsteadily.

When I thought about what to say, I found myself already standing at the podium looking down at everyone.

Mr. Chen was applauding vigorously at the farthest end. Everyone appeared exactly like flowers in a meadow. I spoke.

“While the previous speaker, as a Buddhist, has denied vegetarianism and advocated meat consumption, I must regrettably point out the errors in his assertions as a devout disciple of Śākyamuni Buddha.” “First and foremost, what I must state here in advance is that the previous speaker ultimately possesses nothing more than an antiquarian curiosity toward Buddhism—particularly toward the corrupt Japanese religious authority—and is neither a Buddhist disciple nor Buddhist practitioner.” “This is clearly evident from his having employed improper language toward the many Tathāgatas, the Perfectly Enlightened Ones, during his speech.” “Observe especially his final statement—that ‘even Śākyamuni Buddha beneath the earth must find this troublesome.’ What manner of words are these? Can any who believe in the Tathāgatas speak of them as dwelling beneath the earth? We shall never permit such devilish apostles—who don the outer skin of Buddhist disciples while harboring arrogant and perverse hearts—to go unchallenged.” “Behold, he attempts to measure that Supreme Land with his mustard seed’s worth of knowledge; though I am ashamed to repeat his argument now, if I must point this out for the sake of evidence, he states as follows:” “The reason he, born in a Christian country, believes in Buddhism is ultimately because Buddhism is profound.” “Christian believers, if we reverse the situation—would you accept the following proposition? That one born in a Buddhist country believes in Christianity ultimately because Christianity is profound.” “You cannot help but feel displeasure at its superficiality.” “If I may say so, someone like the previous speaker has no inkling whatsoever as to which doctrine is profound.” “Next, the previous speaker discussed the concept of good in our world.” “That the good we practice in this world is ultimately a rootless tree—this likely means there can be no good without receiving the Tathāgata’s power—I too believe this.” “Next, things like ‘this should be done thus’ or ‘this must not be done otherwise’—all such matters amount to nothing. This too I believe holds true when relying solely on our own devising without following the Tathāgata's divine will.” “The previous speaker also seems to have spoken in that sense.” “However, the assertion that one must swiftly take refuge in the Western Enlightened One—this is a point of considerable debate within Buddhism.” “I will avoid this for now.” “However, we Buddhists must first and foremost resolve to follow only the teachings recorded in the Buddhist sutras as expounded by Śākyamuni Buddha.” “If we follow the Buddhist sutras, it is made clear in the Laṅkāvatāra Sūtra that the Five Kinds of Pure Meat were permitted only for those immature in practice.” “Moreover, in the Mahāparinirvāṇa Sūtra, it is declared that from this time forth, you Buddhist disciples are not permitted to eat meat.” “Even those Five Kinds of Pure Meat are not as simplistically obtained without excessively cruel acts as the previous speaker claimed.” “As it appears that someone else is scheduled to discuss the various considerations regarding dietary regulations in Buddhism, I will omit them here.”

"However, in conclusion—what a grave error!—the previous speaker claims the final alms received by Śākyamuni Buddha were pork, when in truth they were a species of mushroom." "This mistake arose from careless confusion between two phonetically similar Sanskrit terms." "Here I shall repay the previous speaker using his own conclusion." “Fellow Buddhists, look to Śākyamuni Buddha as your model! Become his living likenesses! Cultivate every one of his virtues—be it at one twenty-thousandth, one fifty-thousandth, or even one two-hundred-thousandth scale!”

Ah, how frivolous this tone is! I am ashamed of having said this of my own accord and further of having uttered it.

I next intended to argue the naturalness of abstaining from meat-eating from the spirit of religion. The spirit of Christianity, to put it in a word, would be God’s love. Phrases such as "God created heaven and earth" were ultimately metaphors for us—expressions. There was no need to present erroneous theories of divine providence like Dr. Matton's. Ultimately, it was love. It was love for all living beings. How could killing and eating them be considered natural?

If we speak of the spirit of Buddhism, it is compassion—the Tathāgata’s mercy, a love endowed with perfect wisdom. The starting point of Buddhism lies in this declaration: that all living beings—we who suffer so bitterly and sorrowfully, together with all these living beings—desire to escape this state of suffering. What are these creatures? Though this matter is profoundly grave and may wound your hearts, as it is the truth, it cannot be avoided—I resolved to state it plainly. All living beings have undergone transmigration upon transmigration since time immemorial through countless kalpas of the past. The stages of transmigration are broadly divided into nine. We behold those two before our very eyes. A soul may at times experience human existence. At times, it becomes a beast—that is, is born among what we call animals. At times, it is born into the heavenly realm. In between, it draws near to and parts from various other souls. That is to say: friends, lovers, siblings, parents and children. They become separated from one another and, divided by different lives, no longer recognize each other. Infinite combinations are possible across infinite time. Therefore, all living beings around us are parents, children, and siblings over vast spans of time. Followers of other faiths will likely find this concept too serious and terrifying. This world is indeed a terrifyingly serious place. "That is all I intended to state."

I bowed politely and descended from the podium, whereupon considerable applause arose. The theologians in the heretics' seats also showed no inclination to argue further. But even among the heretics' seats, not everyone was a theologian. A man with a large scar across his forehead, resembling Haeckel in appearance, abruptly rose from his chair. From this morning's pamphlets, I had concluded that he must surely be a zoologist.

The man, his face crimson red, scrambled up to the altar. We applauded magnanimously. With violently trembling hands, he poured water into a glass and drank. Some water even spilled outside the glass. His trembling was so violent that I even began to suspect he might be mentally ill. Yet upon drinking the water, he abruptly became perfectly still. Then, moving his lips ever so slightly as if to speak, he found the words stubbornly refusing to emerge. Everyone fell utterly silent. The man suddenly roared as though detonating. He stuttered two or three times.

“W-why… why… why do you all s-say you don’t eat animals, yet w-wear sh-sheep’s wool hats?” The man trembled violently from excitement before gulping down water frantically. This was catastrophic. The tent erupted with laughter loud enough to split the canvas.

Mr. Chen clapped his hands and rolled about in amusement before saying: “He looks exactly like John Hilgard.” “Who’s John Hilgard?” I inquired. “A comedian,” “from the New York stage.” “Though Hilgard doesn’t have such a scar between his brows.” “I see.”

After that, both the Heretic Seats and dissenter seats fell completely silent, and no one came to stand at the podium. The Deputy Priest looked around the ceremony hall for a while, and after the commotion had subsided, he calmly made his way to the Heretic Seats. It seemed he had asked if there were any others who wished to speak, but as no one answered, the Deputy Priest gave a slight bow and withdrew.

"They seem thoroughly vanquished now," Mr. Chen said to me. I too was genuinely pleased. This was because the Chicago contingent, which had appeared so indomitable, had been crushed so completely. To phrase it thus might evoke baseball, but indeed it was precisely so. Then the electric bell rang for an exceedingly long time. At that crystalline sound, my agitated heart returned once more to something like Newfoundland's translucent September air. Everyone else seemed to share this sensation.

Mr. Chen

“I’ll go set off another one,” he said, standing up and leaving.

At that moment. The theology professor stood dejectedly at the podium once more. And then he bowed forlornly and spoke.

“Everyone, today I have come to understand the ever-greater depth of God’s divine will. Initially, I attended this ceremony as a Christian believer who consumed both plant and animal foods, but now God has commanded me to become a devout Vegetarian believer. I humbly beseech you: though I am but a fool, please permit even one such as myself to join your pure assembly as a fellow believer.” And he descended from the podium and stood with his head bowed. The Deputy Priest immediately stepped forward and shook his hand. Everyone raised cheers and enthusiastically applauded to welcome this new believer.

Then the Heretic Seats were in complete chaos. Turned completely black, they all stood up at once and ascended the podium. “We repent. Please forgive us. We too shall all become Vegetarians,” they declared in unison. The Deputy Priest immediately stepped forward and shook hands with each one individually. Then they descended from the podium one by one and sat down in these chairs. It was filled with cheers and applause. There were just enough chairs. Somehow, everything fell into place all too perfectly. At that moment, another one of Mr. Chen’s signal fireworks went boom! outside. Mr. Chen had already come back in, gave me a slight nod, and still standing, looked across and said.

"My, everyone's converted now—how abruptly it all ended. Ah, the chairs fit perfectly too. Hmm, there's one seat vacant... Oh right, only that Hilgard-like fellow from earlier still persists." The man who resembled that final comedian from earlier was indeed sitting alone in the Heretic Seats, crossing his arms and tousling his hair in such an exaggerated manner that everyone finally burst into uproarious laughter. "As for that man's anguish, I truly can't comprehend what it's about." Mr. Chen said.

However, that man finally stood up. And then he ascended the podium.

“Everyone, I was mistaken.” “I had been lost.” “From this day forth, I shall become a Vegetarian.” “No—in truth, I feel I’ve been a Vegetarian all along.” “It appears I mistakenly sat in the Heretic Seats earlier, which led me to deliver those opposing speeches.” “I beg your forgiveness, everyone.” “Moreover, I believe all who occupied the Heretic Seats today must have similarly mistaken their seating.” “That indeed seems to be the case.” “As proof, they now all sit in the Believer Seats.” “How say you, former heretic gentlemen? Is this not so?”

What astonished me was how everyone—beginning with the theology professor—all stood up at once. “That’s right,” they answered. “That’s how it is. “Considering this, I must now return to my true self. “You may perhaps know me—Hilgard of the New York Stage. “Today, I was asked by the Deputy Priest to put on a play to enliven this festival. “As for this grand play we’ve performed, those who find it displeasing—please direct your criticisms toward the Deputy Priest. “I am but a timid, mere believer, so...”

Hilgard bowed, descended from the podium like a fleeing rabbit, and plopped down into the one remaining vacant seat.

“We’ve been had—utterly and completely!”

Mr. Chen rolled with laughter, guffawing uproariously as cheers and applause threatened to tear the ceremonial hall asunder. But I stood utterly dazed by how anticlimactically it had concluded. So thoroughly dazed was I that the delightful illusion of the Vegetarian Grand Festival had already shattered. For what remains, I entreat you all to complete it as you please using some trite dance from motion picture endings or what have you.