A chimney charcoal starter was best, leaving no hint of starter fluid to ruin the flavor.

We barbequed steaks with garlic and soy sauce. For us and the neighbors, life was good. Yet some unease persisted in the background, quiet and indefinable.

I chanced upon Eating Animals, a book by Jonathan Safran Foer. The uneasiness gained vivid definition. Chickens, pigs, cattle are submitted to horrific treatment, up to and including slaughter.

The next step, already gaining momentum from my practice of zazen, became inevitable. I stopped eating meat.

Around then I also learned that climate change is not entirely due to an accumulation of carbon dioxide in the atmosphere.  Methane is much more potent. The gas is passed by herds of cattle, necessarily large due to the demand. And my choice was confirmed.

For everyone now, an inconvenient truth has grown to a raging reality. There is no escaping it. The remaining arguments are not about if, but how we are to deal with it. Some of these will concern obvious sources of greenhouse gasses. Oil producers. Oil users. The structures and values inherent in consumerism, financial institutions. The delusion of limitless expansion is about to implode. Rule of law and the sway of politicians will falter, as already evident. And cattle?

Now the consequences are understood, a meatless diet emerges as beneficial to the climate. In addition, suffering is reduced for all, not just cattle, chickens and pigs.

As the weather worsens, bringing mass migrations, gangs on the loose, mobs, there will be blame and enough to go around. In the face of all this, what can be done? The climate is faceless.

Ask what's for dinner.

__&__

Days and days of beyond forever began to subside at Radio Shack. Inside was an internet demonstration. I looked for a moment and said to Charlie, “This is not a toy.” The implications seemed to fly over her head. But clearly, as the current phrase would have it, there was an inflection point.

I think the street was wet, sky brooding over recent rain, sidewalk reflecting garish neon signs. Maybe it wasn't exactly like that, but that's how I like to remember it. The personal touch is missing from so many reports.

So if this is dismissed, I'll understand. Or maybe something about it catches your attention without trying to cop your mind. Days of wine and roses it is not.

Some images stick without any reason. A really, really old fashioned radiator cap with a glass gauge sticking up, to be read from inside the cab, which I'm sure existed once, but never for me. Never in my actual experience. I'm sure such type things exist for others. Whatever, it doesn't matter. Most of the time we adhere to the usual, usual. Right?

There is this image of a Bedouin tent out in the desert, dry and barren. Inside, close the flap, inside is a Persian rug spread upon the sand. Another universe has been entered. The owner of the tent has not heard of Dogen Zenji, who said, “The most precious thing in the universe is water.” He offers a cup of water, fully understanding.

This hasn't much to do with the internet, yet. Be patient. Someone just slid an iPhone through the flap of the tent.