Tag Archives: Health

Organic, Free-Range, All-Natural, Human Beings

Walking down the isle at the local grocery store I took note of the newer marketing ploys meant to entice potential customers. The once popular “no-msg” is accompanied by “low calorie” or “no high fructose corn syrup,” enriched foods are being replaced by whole grain foods (of which we are told to accept no imitations), and that dreadful concoction they call Splenda lurks within damn-near every “sugar free” food. All of these product lines draw our attentions and intentions back to matters of body—the so-called obesity pandemic of our times. When will we shed those no-longer unwanted but down right deadly pounds of fat? When will we be able to showcase our oddly-nourished but all-”natural” bodies and defy the Hostess franchise?

Let’s switch gears. I once had a dog—a spaniel named Cody—who fell into a violent fit of epilepsy. Once every hour he would quake. The late night veterinarian asked my mother and I what Cody had (or could have) eaten. “There is this fertilizer that he might have eaten—but it says that it is all-natural,” mother replied. Being a covert smart-ass, I kept my initial reactions to myself and hoped the vet would speak on my behalf; after all, the vet held post-graduate credentials and I hadn’t even finished high school. Fortunate enough for me, the vet came through with a calm but pointed remark: “just because it’s natural does not mean it won’t hurt you.”

There is a line drawn between man and his environment, and this line is flimsy. Drawing attention to this line sells deadly fertilizers, (morally) justifies the actions of predatory creatures, and (to return to the original topic) makes us feel dirty for eating Flaming Hot Cheetoes. Today I ask a question that should occupy the thoughts amongst the hoi polloi (yes, that means you and I): are we not part of the natural world?

When I look at the New York City skyline, I can marvel at it and wonder how men can come to build magnificent things. When I look at a mile long series of beaver dams, it would not be out of the ordinary to consider the works of beavers one of many works of “nature.” Birds nests, grassy fields, coral reefs; all of these things are considered natural in that they are untouched by humans. Perhaps the lowly beaver considers the skyscraper a marvelous work of nature, in that a skyscraper is untouched by beaver hands … paws.

I, for one, happen to consider human beings a full part of the natural process; and, sure, “natural” will become a useless category in the aftermath. Of what use is it to separate what is naturally attained from what is humanly attained anyway? Human hands, at this point, are required for the use of anything outside of ourselves. Wheat must be processed and packaged, cleaned of bugs and seasoned for flavor. Even berries must be picked and used for something other than nourishing the seeds contained within. Everything we have dubbed natural has lost it’s link to nature; we devise each step in the process, and each step is one away from “nature” (if there was such a distinct thing to begin with). Is high fructose corn syrup any less natural than a simpler sugar? If you think so, then you must have an elaborate definition of nature. Yes, you may be in for a sweet surprise.

It was no surprise for me to find that seaweed extract has a high concentration of MSG in it—this happened long before the term mono-sodium glutamate came around. Scientific language is part of the problem here. No scientist is afraid of dihydrogen monoxide, but many have fell prey to shame when they figured it out: they were the butt of a joke. The fear of the unnatural has the average person afraid of drinking water!

We are part of this world whether or not we like to admit it and regardless of our theoretical baggage. Some of our actions will kill us, others will kill us slowly but contribute to our mental well-being (recreational drugs, anyone?), and much of what the others will tell us about these acts will be—excuse the obscenities—utter bullshit.

Think about it next time you pick up the groceries.