John Keats was a Vegetarian...

5 days down...in three and a half hours. Today, I saw an Arby's. I pulled in and parked. I even entered and used the restroom. But, I'll have you know - I did not partake. It was a success for me - both because I am a long-time lover of their roast beef sandwiches and also because, on day 5, I did get a hunkerin' for something meaty.

Day three and four was easy peasy - as my kids say. I had no desire for meat. It wasn't that I was eating the cover shots of vegetarian magazines or books. Let's see...I've been eating almonds, raw carrots, kale, whole grain brown Basmati rice and a vegetarian chilli out of a box...Whoa, buddy...make your own. Tonight, in the face of my mental image of stacked roast beef slices layered between a bun...Thanks, Arby's...I had a tomato, avocado, and kale sandwich on 12 grain whole bread.

So the cycle is going thusly:
Day 1 - Shock or adrenalin filled Grrr...
Day 2 - Headache
Day 3 - Awesome - this is the best thing ever
Day 4 - I'm so sorry for all those ignorant meat-eaters - when will they see the truth...I'm so glad...then
Day 5 - I want me some bacon!

Have you ever seen the movie Multiplicity with Micheal Keaton? -----  Look down there, at the bottom of these posts...I think I put a clip. I like bacon like 4 likes pizza.

I know Keats (not Keaton, the actor - total coincidence - Keats, the poet) was a vegetarian because he would have used a perfectly crispy piece of bacon as a muse for an ode instead of some dusty Grecian urn.

Just think bacon. It's not bad to think it - is it? ...oh, I just thought about bacon on my avocado, tomato, and kale sandwich...low and deep ohhh mmmm

A Grecian Urn (full of Bacon...)
Thou still unravish'd bride of quietness,
    Thou foster-child of silence and slow time, 
Sylvan historian, who canst thus express
    A flowery tale more sweetly than our rhyme:
What leaf-fring'd legend haunt about thy shape
    Of deities or mortals, or of both,
        In Tempe or the dales of Arcady?
    What men or gods are these?  What maidens loth?
What mad pursuit?  What struggle to escape?
        What pipes and timbrels?  What wild ecstasy?
Heard melodies are sweet, but those unheard
    Are sweeter: therefore, ye soft pipes, play on;
Not to the sensual ear, but, more endear'd,
    Pipe to the spirit ditties of no tone:
Fair youth, beneath the trees, thou canst not leave
    Thy song, nor ever can those trees be bare;
        Bold lover, never, never canst thou kiss,
Though winning near the goal - yet, do not grieve;
        She cannot fade, though thou hast not thy bliss,
    For ever wilt thou love, and she be fair!
Ah, happy, happy boughs! that cannot shed
    Your leaves, nor ever bid the spring adieu;
And, happy melodist, unwearied,
    For ever piping songs for ever new;                                   
More happy love! more happy, happy love!
    For ever warm and still to be enjoy'd,
        For ever panting, and for ever young;
All breathing human passion far above,
    That leaves a heart high-sorrowful and cloy'd,
        A burning forehead, and a parching tongue.
Who are these coming to the sacrifice?
    To what green altar, O mysterious priest,
Lead'st thou that heifer lowing at the skies,
    And all her silken flanks with garlands drest?
What little town by river or sea shore,
    Or mountain-built with peaceful citadel,
        Is emptied of this folk, this pious morn?
And, little town, thy streets for evermore
    Will silent be; and not a soul to tell
        Why thou art desolate, can e'er return.
O Attic shape!  Fair attitude! with brede
    Of marble men and maidens overwrought,
With forest branches and the trodden weed;
    Thou, silent form, dost tease us out of thought
As doth eternity: Cold Pastoral!
    When old age shall this generation waste,
        Thou shalt remain, in midst of other woe                      
    Than ours, a friend to man, to whom thou say'st,
"Beauty is truth, truth beauty," - that is all
        Ye know on earth, and all ye need to know.

- John Keats, vegetarian - an obvious conclusion