Feed The World

I beg your pardon. Well, hold on. I... do I know you? Not intimately, I think. Well, who are you? A horseman. You've seen horses. Well, of course. That is... But this is a horse. I am a horseman.

After all, a horse should be a welcome figure to a party. A little lecture on food. Some people eat horses. In a pinch? Yes. Do you mind if I'm your guest tonight? Not at all.

Do you mind if I have certain useful contributions to make your program? Do you know anything about food from the Americas? I know everything about food. Everywhere. You're a horse evidently, doesn't it? These are all ribs.

I do not belong to the breed of fattened animals, for the slaughter and for the gullets of men. I interrupt your story. Do go on. I intended to. Food. Subsistence and existence. Where there was the promise of food, men went.

Where there was grass, tribes, nations. Civilization went to feed their livestock. But their livestock might feed them. The rat and the ant have survived because they have known how. Somehow. Always to have food. The rats and the ants and the man.

It's a relatively inspiring thought. But go on. When the rat and the ant compose a symphony or give testimony to God, let me know, man, on horseback. Go on. Ever since the beginnings of man, his struggle for subsistence has been the story of his life.

His war and his peace, his hate and his love, his passions and his ideals. All is full. Man, the potent lord of creation who lives only to eat. History and scriptures are full of the literature of meat and bread and the pitcher.