Fuck Farming
Fuck farming. There… I said it.
Now before you get all defensive, and gesture angrily to your No Farms No Food bumper sticker, I should point out that I’m allowed to say mean things about farming, because…
I’m a farmer.
It took me a long time to feel comfortable calling myself one, but after ten years of chasing down escaped livestock, wrestling with tractors, and freezing my fingers off in meat coolers, I feel like I’ve earned the right. There is no other group of people who I have greater respect for, enjoy the company of more, or am prouder to associate myself with than farmers. Unfortunately, my hard-won accomplishment of farmerhood isn’t worth the price of an organic heirloom carrot (I mean, have you seen what everything costs at the farmer’s market? Farmers are basically printing money).