The Peaceable Table

A Vegetarian Journal for Quakers and Other People of Faith

The Peaceable Table is intended for the mutual support, education, and inspiration of people of faith in the practice of love for our fellow animals and observance of a Peaceful diet

Editorial: Hearing Her Into Speech



For centuries, human beings have created stories in which they imagine animals talking in our speech, as the August PT editorial discussed. Sometimes, especially in so-called beast fables, the animal characters are little more than human beings in beast shape; in other cases, however, the author, out of a genuine desire to relate to other creatures, makes some degree of effort to think her/himself into the mind of an animal. This requires respect, openness, and patience.


In contrast to this ancient human desire to communicate with animals, human beings have also found certain forms of the exploitation of animals so important to them that they closed themselves off to opportunities for communication. As we have mentioned before in PT, C.S. Lewis is a good example of these two conflicting attitudes in the same person. In many ways a disciplined and compassionate man, who detested cruel experiments on animals, Lewis felt this ancient desire (he was particularly fond of mice), and out of it he created the magnetically appealing talking animals in his Narnia stories and his science fiction novel Out of the Silent Planet. But he also liked his bacon and eggs, apparently believed vegetarians were trendy modern ascetics, and, later in life, probably did not want to condemn his wife's hunting. He thought he could have his wondrous animal-human conversations and eat his bacon too. But he failed to notice the problems implicit in his world in which speaking animals, with no sense either of fellow-feeling or of danger to themselves, agree with humans that nonspeaking animals are fair game for food and "sport."


The Arrogant Eye

Lacking even Lewis' ambivalence, for centuries many representatives of the scientific establishment investigating animals have simply asserted, or assumed, that they do not have minds or personalities. (Charles Darwin was a notable exception.) This claim is of course the justification for excluding them from the circle of ethical consideration, and visiting any number of horrors upon them, in the name of the search for knowledge. The implied worldview is that the human experimenter is the lord, and animals are the subjects. As Uncle Andrew Ketterley, the sorcerer seeking a way into other worlds in Lewis's The Magician's Nephew, says,

"I am the great scholar, the magician, the adept, who is doing the experiment. Of course I need subjects to do it on. . . . My earlier experiments were all failures. I tried them on guinea pigs. Some only died. Some exploded like little bombs--"

"It was a jolly cruel thing to do," said Digory who had once had a guinea pig of his own.

"How you do keep getting off the point!" said Uncle Andrew. "That's what the creatures were for. I bought them myself."


Uncle Andrew is a sorcerer and not a reductionistic scientist, but their outlooks are similar: the guinea pigs were essentially things, and interchangeable.


In contrast, when twenty-six-year-old Jane Goodall, innocent of university science courses, began observing the chimpanzees of Gombe in 1960, she approached them with respect, as beings in their own right. She found and recorded significant personality differences, and identified the chimps with names: David Greybeard, Goliath, Flo, Fifi, et. al. But when she developed her research data into a Ph.D. thesis at Cambridge a few years later, her professors would have none of this approach. The proper procedure was to identify one's animal subjects with numbers; to describe their actions as motivated by jealousy, or loyalty, or resentment, was anthropomorphizing. Behaviorism, a particularly extreme form of reductionism which still reigned unchallenged in animal studies in the 'Sixties, ruled that anthropomorphizing was one of the most heinous of scientific sins.


The professors intended to uphold scientific objectivity. Strict objectivity is not possible because we are always subjects, who have feelings and viewpoints. But what they sought includes emotional discipline, which is indeed necessary. Lacking critical understanding of themselves, they failed to notice what a huge emotional investment they and their kind had in regarding animals reductionistically. Reductionism is an aspect of the vision of "the arrogant eye which objectifies the other for its own benefit. . . . The Western elite have adopted this gaze: standing high on a hill, this sole Subject looks out on the world as its object," to quote theologian Sallie McFague. The arrogant eye wants to see what lies in its domain, but on its own terms: it determines which questions may be asked, and which are unacceptable. They didn't want to hear Goodall's answers because they had ruled out her questions, which threatened human sovereignty. (She cannily got around the taboos with circumlocutions such as "His behavior, if seen in humans, would be called jealousy.")


A Satellite Revolt

Patriarchy (or kyriarchy, the reign of the lords) is another aspect of the vision of the arrogant eye. The kyriarch determines what the nature of Woman is--a satellite to Man--and informs her what, as such, she is thinking and feeling, or ought to be. His message has varied somewhat over the centuries, and in different places. Throughout much of middle-class Western culture in the late 1940s, the 1950s and early 1960s, she was told that she found her fulfillment as the ever-attractive wife and mother in a nuclear family, keeping a clean, attractive house, meeting the needs of her high-achieving husband, and raising extravertive children. Any friendships with other women would be superficial, because she would feel essentially competitive with them.


Of the millions of women who swallowed this message, many found themselves discontented and confused. Why weren't they fulfilled? How had they failed? Why were their husbands so often preoccupied, or absent, or abusive? Why did they have such painfully mixed feelings toward their children? In feminist consciousness-raising groups of the 'Sixties and 'Seventies, middle-class women, rejecting the satellite image for one in which a woman had value in her own right, helped each other find answers. The process was sometimes referred to as "hearing her into speech." Instead of telling a woman what she was feeling and thinking, or ought to be, the intent of the members (not always carried out) was to listen respectfully and help her find out for herself who she was.


The approach of contemporary ethologists like Goodall, Marc Bekoff, and Jonathan Balcombe is essentially a process of hearing the animals into speech. The beasts will not speak English (or French, or Greek), and we will not understand them fully. Some speak "languages" more remote from ours than others. As philosopher Thomas Nagel said about bats, we humans find it hard to imagine ourselves into the mind of a being with poor vision that flies at dusk, uses sonar to catch and eat insects, and sleeps hanging upside down. Even with animals that are closer to us in the experiences of sleeping, food-seeking, mating, parenting, and the like, if we are hasty and undisciplined, we can misinterpret what they are thinking and feeling. But, says Balcombe, "Animals are not closed books, and their feelings are not unsolvable mysteries."

Like good scientists of any time, the ethologists observe and theorize with discipline and caution. But they do not bring to their task the arrogant eye but a caring and receptive one.

--Gracia Fay Ellwood


The term kyriarchy was coined by biblical critic Elisabeth Schussler Fiorenza to acknowledge that powerful males dominate not only women but powerless men as well.

Sources: The Exultant Ark: A Pictorial Tour of Animal Pleasure by Jonathan Balcombe

"The Loving Eye and the Arrogant Eye" by Sallie McFague, in The Ecumenical Review, V. 49, Issue 2, p. 185

Thomas Nagel, "What is it Like to Be a Bat?" in Philosophical Review, LXXXIII 4 (October 1974): 435-50. See Bat

Lead Photo of Jonathan Balcombe and avian friend by Katherine Rose, Guardian News & Media Ltd

Drawing of Andrew Ketterley by Pauline Baynes
Photo of consciousness-raising group by Women's Movement
Archives, Women's Educational Center, Cambridge, Massachusetts

Unset Gems

The Scream
The worst scream I have ever heard: a mother cow on a dairy farm, as she screams and bellows for her stolen baby to be given back to her.
~ Gary Yourofsky, public speaker and activist
--Contributed by Lorena Mucke

News Notes

Yvonne Finds Home


Yvonne, a cow who escaped moments before she was about to be carted off to a slaughterhell last May and ran, frightened, free, and lonely in a Bavarian forest, garnered much support from the public. She turned up Sept. 2 alongside the fence on another farm, apparently trying to reach out to several young cows. She was captured and taken to a sanctuary that had ransomed her for 600 euros; here she will be reunited with her son Friesi and her sister Waltraud. See Yvonne

--Contributed by Robert Ellwood

It is encouraging that so many people cheer an animal who escapes from death; but then most of them go back to eating the flesh of animals who didn't escape. How to explain this "Collapse of Compassion" when thousands of victims are involved? See Collapse

--Contributed by Lorena Mucke


It Actually Happened

Thanks to Mercy For Animals' shocking undercover video of egregious animal cruelty taking place at E6 Cattle Company in Texas, the E6 owner was handed down one-year probation and ordered to pay a $4,000 fine; the foreman has been arrested on misdemeanor animal cruelty charges. Five former employees of E6 Cattle are facing felony-level charges of cruelty to animals, although all five workers have fled and have yet to be arrested. To learn more see E6

Although the consequences for these horrible acts seem like a slap on the wrist, the mere fact that there have been consequences is a small step toward a more just world.

--Contributed by Lorena Mucke


It Didn't Happen
British prosecutors refused to act on a recent horrifying footage of abuse at a pig-killing plant because the film and cameras were planted by trespassing. See Refusal

--Contributed by Lorena Mucke


Dear Peaceable Friends,
Just read the latest issue of PT. I was especially intrigued by Robert's piece about animals talking in movies and television programs. There are two points I would like to add to his list of problems with this practice. Cartoons with talking animals very often give them human speech defects. The "hero" character is usually spared, but the animal who is considered the social "loser" is often given a lisp or stutter. As a child with a profound lisp, and having a brother with a stutter, I was not encouraged by seeing Daffy Duck, Porky Pig or Sylvester the Cat continually come out on the short end. All things considered, I marvel at how rarely my brother and I were called by these names by our peers. I'm sure many others with such speech impediments weren't so blessed with considerate pals.

Also, entertainment venues (movies, cartoons, wild animal park shows, etc.) featuring animals give a skewed view of their relation with human beings. They are robbed of their own nature, logic, personality, and identity, and depicted almost as "humans in animal costumes." They are conditioned to perform tricks that go completely against their natural inclinations, which is belittling to their dignity. And this "humanizing" of wild animals has a dark and dangerous side. Exotic animal rescue compounds all over the world are overflowing with castoff exotic animals which have been pets of those deluded into thinking they can be easily trained and cared for. Having worked for seven years at Carolina Tiger Rescue, I assure you, the results are heartbreaking, costly and enduring.
Thank you again for this well-thought-out article.
Many blessings,
Linda Terry

Dear Peaceable Friends,
. . . . I received the July PT and found it to be a wonderful issue. I appreciated the footnote from the editorial "Stranger at the Table." I think the quote from Luke (22:27) which extols the value of service applies, not only to erase any hint of sexism in Rembrandt's painting, but also applies to all religious practice . . . .

Your expression that animals are seen as "beneath the bottom" is valid and poignant. Fortunately, little by little I can see a change in this attitude, as shown in the NewsNotes piece about the banning of the use of wild animals in circuses in the U. K. Hopefully, someday the majority of people will see that if we can't abuse them that way, then we also can't kill and eat them.

I never saw The Rescuers Down Under, but I greatly enjoyed the review by you and Benjamin Urrutia. I'm recommending the film for my grandsons.

God bless us, every one,
Carl Sheppard

Film Review: Mr. Popper's Penguins

Mr. Popper's Penguins, a novel for children by Richard and Florence Atwater. Illustrated by Robert Lawson. 1938. 139 pages.
Mr. Popper's Penguins. A 20th Century Fox Film. Directed by Mark Waters. Starring Jim Carrey as Tom Popper Jr., Carla Gugino as Amanda Popper, Madeline Carroll as Janie Popper, Maxwell Cotton as Billy Popper. 2011
In the novel, Mr. Popper is an absent-minded house-painter who daydreams of traveling to remote regions of the world, specially the Arctic and Antarctic. We are never told his first name; he is just "Mr. Popper." In the movie, he gets an upgrade in his profession - he is now a real estate agent  - and a first name, Thomas "Tom" Popper Jr. On the other hand, the loyal and long-suffering wife in the book has become a (comfortably friendly) ex-wife in the movie.

In the book, Mr. P. writes an enthusiastic fan letter to Admiral Drake, a famous Antarctic explorer, who is so touched that he sends his admirer a real live penguin, whom Mr. Popper names Captain Cook (after a great explorer who did not quite make it to the Antarctic). This is hard to believe, but we are willing to suspend disbelief. In the film, Tom P. also gets a penguin, but his/her provenance is at first a mystery, though it is eventually revealed that Tom's father, quite a world-traveler, had sent the penguin to his son in the hope the bird would improve his family life.

Captain Cook becomes ill, and the book's Mr. Popper writes to the aquarium to ask for advice. It turns out that the aquarium has the same problem, and the scientist in charge determines that both penguins are suffering from loneliness. He decides to send the aquarium penguin, Greta, to Mr. Popper so they may keep each other company. This is totally illogical; it would make much better sense for Tom to send Captain Cook to the aquarium, where the facilities and trained staff would be more up to the task of caring for the birds. Indeed, in the book, the Popper family (who are rather poor, and are living on beans), go deeply into debt to provide food for their penguins and turn their cellar into an Antarctic wonderland. Disbelief becomes harder to suspend. It is even more difficult to accept that Greta and Captain produce ten eggs, when in reality penguins only lay one or two eggs per season (and if two, only one survives). The Atwaters know this, and the unusual fertility of Greta is explained--sort of--by a theory that the change of climate has caused it. Actually, climate change, zoologically speaking, would be more likely to affect their fertility in a negative, not positive way.

In the book, Mr. Popper comes up with a clever solution to their financial crisis: He will put the penguins on stage. The act consists of the penguin family marching, two of them sparring, and all of them sliding on their stomachs. Instead of teaching the birds to do unnatural "tricks," he encourages them to have fun carrying out their natural behaviors. This is realistic, is precisely what the best animal trainers do, and works out very well. The first paycheck provides enough to pay off the Poppers' debts.

In the movie, Tom Popper does not put the penguins on stage, but he does teach them to dance, just for the fun of it. Jim Carrey, who plays Tom Popper, is a great comic actor who likes working with animals and is not afraid he will be upstaged by them.

Tom Popper has serious problems on the job as well, however. He has to buy and sell a restaurant in a desirable locale whose wealthy owner (played by Angela Lansbury) will only sell to one she deems worthy. The penguins produce three eggs--not as far from nature as the ten in the book, but still three times more than penguins normally lay in real life. The third egg does not hatch, and nothing the Poppers do can save it.

Tom is despondent over this loss and donates the penguins to the local zoo. When he learns that the zoo intends to break up the penguin family, sending them to different zoos, Mr. Popper changes his mind and rescues (or abducts) the penguins. His actions in doing so persuade the restaurant owner that he is worthy, and she sells him the business. Popper decides to not resell the place but to re-open it for business. Since he loves penguins so well, we who dine at the Peaceable Table may hope that he loves all creatures great and small, and the restaurant will be a vegan one!

The book ends with Admiral Drake's ill-advised project to introduce the Popper Penguins to the Arctic regions. He thinks the penguins are clever enough to escape being eaten by polar bears, which is very doubtful. Even if true, it is not a good idea to upset the ecological balance by obtruding species where they do not belong (think of rabbits in Australia).
The movie has a much better idea: to return the penguins to Antarctica, where they do belong. And, unlike Mr. Popper's solo trip to the Arctic in the book, the entire Popper family, including the ex-wife, escorts the penguins to the frozen South. The children in the book are loyal appendages to their father. In the movie, on the other hand, they are individuals, active in persuading their father to keep the penguins initially and to rescue them from the zoo.  

The book never mentions which of the eighteen species of penguins is it talking about, but the illustrator, Robert Lawson, shows them as Gentoo penguins, and the movie follows that tradition.

The initial action--shutting up a penguin in a crate and shipping him to a human being--is both unconvincing and abhorrent. But granting it (without it we have no story), the message we are left with is quite pro-animal in both book and film. The Popper family wants what is best for the penguins, although making that best possible badly disrupts their lives. Eventually, the primary wrong is righted as the penguins are taken back to free lives in their natural climate--and here the film improves on the book.

The book is a classic, and has remained in print for many decades. Its charm is such that its several scientific and logical errors may be overlooked in suspended disbelief. The movie has not only gone far to eliminate these flaws, in its extensive development of the book's scenario it is also is very entertaining. Children, Jim Carrey, and penguins are a winning combination.
-Benjamin Urrutia

Did You Miss This One?

Cleveland Amory, Ranch of Dreams. New York: Viking Press, 1997.
288 pp.

The late Cleveland Amory (1917-1998) was born and raised in the upper reaches of Bostonian society, including the right prep schools and, of course, Harvard. From this privileged vantage point, he wrote several delightful and informative books about Society when the word really meant something: The Proper Bostonians, The Last Resorts, and Who Killed Society?

Along the way, however, things happened to change his focus. He had read Anna Sewell's Black Beauty as a child, a book which--as happened with many readers of that classic--he could not get out of his mind. It enjoyed a rebirth in his adult years as activism on behalf of abused or threatened animals. The other event was the coming of Polar Bear, the cat he saved from Manhattan streets on Christmas Eve 1977, who taught him the meaning of human-animal love. About this cherished feline he wrote no fewer than three books: The Cat Who Came for Christmas, The Cat and the Curmudgeon, and The Best Cat Ever.

Amory founded the Fund for Animals in 1967, and his ranch for rescued animals, in Murchison, Texas, in 1979. Appropriately, it was named Black Beauty Ranch (now the Cleveland Amory Black Beauty Ranch), and the first resident was a cat rescued from a steel trap. She had lost a leg, but got along well, and was appropriately named Peg. Amory had definite ideas from the beginning about what this establishment would be. In Ranch of Dreams, he wrote, "it would not be a zoo. It would have wild animals, but it would not be a place where the wild animals were primarily to be looked at; rather it would be a place where they would primarily be looked after. . . It would be a place where animals would do whatever they wanted to do, not what people wanted them to do. . . It would also be a place that the animals felt, from the day they arrived, belonged to them, and would always belong to them as long as they lived." (pp. 41-42)

Ranch of Dreams tells the story of this ranch in Amory's easy, comfortable style. The author describes how the site was selected -- a major factor was east Texas' good and extensive grasslands -- the less-than-ideal Texas climate, and the perhaps surprisingly friendly attitude of the Texas neighbors. The real heart of the book is a series of accounts of dramatic rescues. These involved herds of animals otherwise scheduled to be shot: burros from the bottom of the Grand Canyon, goats from San Clemente in the California Channel Islands, wild horses in Nevada, bison in Montana, zoo and circus elephants. In some of these cases the targeted animals were considered an invasive species, threatening endangered indigenous life. But that was no fault of the burros, goats, or horses, nor did it lessen the dread of their prospective genocide.

Amory and the Fund for Animals intervened to offer deliverance and sanctuary. His counter-activities of course attracted much media attention, as well as sharp confrontations with the U.S. Park Service, the Navy (which then had control of San Clemente Island), and the Bureau of Land Management, plus the state governments in Nevada and Montana.
Inevitably, there was talk of his going after high-profile cases to the neglect of other needy animals. But Amory no doubt judged rightly when he considered that putting the spectacular airlifting of burros out of the photogenic Grand Canyon on the evening news, or standing with the wild horses and bison so much a part of the history of the American west, would awaken the public to animal concerns as nothing else would. He was justified by the results, which bought generous support to the Fund for Animals and Black Beauty Ranch; all this was part of the great upwelling of animal concern in the late twentieth century. No one can end all animal abuse at once; at least Amory forced the public to be aware.

The accounts do not spare the reader some revealing of the callousness and plain cruelty behind much of what Amory had to deal with, but the pain is alleviated by the writer's good-heartedness, and the usually happy endings. Though Amory is generally quite unpretentions, sometimes the reader is amused by the proper Bostonian's willingness to bring his elite background into play when it would further his cause. For example, in talking with an admiral he had to win over in the San Clemente goat caper, he made much of common Harvard experiences.

He also was capable of the outspoken bluntness of the true aristocrat. At a hearing about the bison issue, he was asked by a Montana congressman, "'Mr. Amory, is it true that you said Montanans would shoot their mother if she was on four legs? I would like to know if you include my mother in that assessment.' I told him I had not so far, but I would be happy to do if he had felt offended by my having left her out." (p. 223)

One of the most interesting rescues was of Nim Chimpsky, the controversial chimpanzee who in the 1970s was taught sign language with the intention of enabling animal-human communication. The name was a take-off on Noam Chomsky, the famous linguist who denied that any creatures other than humans possessed true language. Whether Nim was truly using language or something else has been, and still is, argued interminably by specialists, but what cannot be denied is that this chimpanzee had a very unusual life. Torn from his mother at birth, Nim was raised and trained at Columbia University, where a well-meaning series of student caretakers took him into their homes, dressing him in toddler clothes and letting him eat at the table with them. The idea was to raise the chimp as a human child, hoping he would then learn human language in the normal way.

But after the experiment ended ambivalently, Nim was sold--he was only a thing, after all--to a primate lab in Oklahoma for further behavioral studies. Finally, just before he was to be ungratefully sold to yet another lab, this time for medical experiments, Nim was taken in by Black Beauty Ranch. There, in well-earned retirement, he lived out the remainder of his life in relative happiness. However, Nim never really overcame his strange upbringing, in which he was neither chimpanzee nor human, and often isolated from his own kind. At the Black Beauty ranch, he did at last find true friendship with another chimp , a female, Sally, whom he deeply loved. The once-talking chimp was inconsolable weeks after the death of the one creature bonded to him and truly like him, of his own heart and soul.

The strange and sad case of Nim is topical. It was the subject of a recent book, Elizabeth Hess's Nim Chimpsky: The Chimp Who Would Be Human (Bantam, 2008), which treats the language efforts critically from the perspective of an author who is definitely an animal lover, though fair-minded toward all concerned. Project Nim, a disturbing but important documentary on the subject, was released July 2011 to much publicity and favorable reviews. Considering Nim's deprivations throughout his life, and whatever we think of animal language, we can be glad that he at least enjoyed honorable retirement and found communion at Black Beauty Ranch.
If stories like these engage you, be sure to go back and visit, or revisit, Ranch of Dreams.

--Robert Ellwood


Tomato-Sweet Corn Salad with Tarragon Dressing
Serves 4

4 large ripe tomatoes, peeled and cut into chunks
1 lb. fresh or frozen sweet corn kernels (thawed if using frozen)
½ small sweet onion, thinly sliced
1 clove fresh garlic, minced
¼ cup extra virgin olive oil
2 T. white wine vinegar
2 T. water
2 T. fresh tarragon, chopped
1 tsp. Dijon mustard
2 tsp. raw agave nectar
½ tsp. sea salt, or to taste
Several grinds of freshly ground black pepper, to taste

In salad bowl, toss together tomatoes, corn, onion and garlic. Set aside.
In a small ceramic or glass bowl, whisk together salad dressing ingredients. Pour over tomato-corn salad and toss. Serve over a bed of mixed salad greens if desired.
--Angela Suarez

Sliced Cucumbers in Umeboshi Vinegar
serves 3

2 cucumbers, (peeled if not organic; organic cucumbers need not be peeled, just well washed)
2 scallions, including some of the green part, sliced
1 clove garlic, boiled and sliced
2 - 3 tsp. umeboshi vinegar mixed
1 - 2 tsp. vegan sugar.
sea salt, to taste

Slice cucumbers in a food processor.
Allow cucumbers in to drain in colander (lightly salted) for several hours.
Place sliced and drained cucumbers in ceramic or glass bowl with sliced scallions and garlic.
In small bowl, whisk together umeboshi vinegar and sugar, until sugar dissolves. Pour over cucumbers, onions, and garlic. Toss and serve on salad plates. Garnish with fresh dill or nasturtium flowers.

* To boil garlic for this recipe: In a small saucepan bring a small amount of water (about ½ cup), enough to cover the garlic clove, to a boil. Drop the peeled clove of garlic in the water. Allow to boil for one (1) minute. Remove from water. Slice.
--Angela Suarez

Poetry: Henry W. Longfellow, 1807 - 1882 and

Norman Sandiford Power, 1916 - 1992

The Tide Rises, the Tide Falls

The tide rises, the tide falls,
The twilight darkens, the curlew calls;
Along the sea-sands damp and brown
The traveler hastens toward the town,
And the tide rises, the tide falls.

Darkness settles on roofs and walls,
But the sea, the sea in darkness calls;
The little waves, with their soft, white hands
Efface the footprints in the sands,
And the tide rises, the tide falls.

The morning breaks; the steeds in their stalls
Stamp and neigh, as the hostler calls;
The day returns, but nevermore
Returns the traveler to the shore.
And the tide rises, the tide falls.
--H. W. L

The Shell

A shell on the sea-shore,
Deserted, brittle and dead
Within whose concave whorl
The wind whispered and said
Fear not--you are not dead;
Majestical, star-led,
"The Sea will come--The Sea!"
So is my soul in me.
--N. S. P.

Norman "Sandy" Power was an English inner-city clergyman who wrote poetry, books on religion, and a series of fantasy novels for children about a small kingdom called Firland at the time of King Arthur. In a poignant echo to "The Shell," his only son Michael later died by drowning, his body washed up on the sea shore.

Seascape photo by Dmitry Kuschch.

The Peaceable Table is a project of Quaker Animal Kinship / Animal Kinship Committee of Orange Grove Friends Meeting, Pasadena, California. It is intended to resume the witness of that excellent vehicle of the Friends Vegetarian Society of North America, The Friendly Vegetarian, which appeared quarterly between 1982 and 1995. Following its example, and sometimes borrowing from its treasures, we publish articles for toe-in-the-water vegetarians as well as long-term ones.

The journal is intended to be interactive; contributions, including illustrations, are invited for the next issue. Deadline for the October issue will be Sept. 25, 2011. Send to or 10 Krotona Hill, Ojai, CA 93023. We operate primarily online in order to conserve trees and labor, but hard copy is available for interested persons who are not online. The latter are asked, if their funds permit, to donate $12 (USD) per year. Other donations to offset the cost of the domain name and server are welcome.

Editor: Gracia Fay Ellwood
Book and Film Reviewers: Benjamin Urrutia & Robert Ellwood
Recipe Editor: Angela Suarez
NewsNotes Editors: Lorena Mucke and Marian Hussenbux
Technical Architect: Richard Scott Lancelot El