Engine 2, As Informed by Gatsby

As I write this, I am munching on a raw organic collard green. I just got back from walking through my law school's cafeteria, sneering at all the idiots who are still eating meat and saucing up their vegetables. This collard green reminds me of a line from the final page of the Great Gatsby:

And as the moon rose higher the inessential houses began to melt away until gradually I became aware of the old island here that flowered once for Dutch sailors' eyes -- a fresh, green breast of the new world.

I'm sure that those who have foresworn meat are smart enough to draw clean, precise parallels, but I'll elaborate for the carnivores out there who are able to read.

The moon, which is rising higher in the night sky, is a source of light that is increasingly elucidating the protagonist's surroundings. Engine 2, my source of light, is increasingly allowing me to see the world clearly. As the moon lights up the world, "the inessential houses" -- unimportant, garish material possessions -- are melting away. As Engine 2 elucidates my world, repulsive, unimportant things -- meat, animal byproducts, excess oils and salts -- are fading. After the artificial and unimportant melts away, the protagonist becomes aware of the raw and primal, the "fresh, green breast of the new world": the undisturbed nature that dazzled and nurtured humanity before industrial settlement ruined it. Without the artificial and unimportant (meat and processed ingredients), I am cognizant of natural, nurturing delights (raw organic collard greens), unspoiled by society and uncorrupted by industrial process.

In two hours, it will have been twenty-four hours since I renounced my omniverous nature and began eating vegan minus (vegan-). I feel energetic, mentally alert, and insatiably alive. Tomorrow I'll go into some detail about Engine 2, including the backstory of the diet and my meal list from the first day.