Bland fisticuffs

This is not about global warming, but a bombastic start never hurts, right?
Right: global warning. Let's not mess about: it's common knowledge most of the greenhouse gas comes from farting cows. It's only natural for you and for the entire planet to give up meat, because this is all linked, man, you know?
Ironically, this knowledge comes mostly from another type of farting bovines. The main difference between them are the yoga pants, which one type doesn't wear and the other usually does, although in some cases the quadruped kind would look more appealing in them than their vocal biped vegetarian counterparts.

And in the opposite corner it's the if-you-don't-eat-meat-you'll-die folk. Because it's the proteins, man, know? Equally radical bunch, but opposite. And yet, the bovine mental associations return to mind. With less Lycra, though.

Although both so eloquent and rich in believable studies, these two camps reach rather divergent conclusions. I doubt the balance of truth tilts towards the proponents of aura cleansing through juicing raw quinoa or the butch beefcake squad, or if it just holds still on middle ground gastronomic common-sense symmetrically ignoring both extremes. But for the sake of such an irrelevant conflict, I'm all in for engaging either party in heated debate. Because the result is hilarious.

It's entertaining to watch raw-vegans boiling (get it?) over the slightest mentioning of a steak, but it's so refreshing. The only thing to top it off is offering tofu burgers to, well, you get it.

And that's it's. If you were expecting to find and answer or even a documented opinion, I'm happy to disappoint. But there's no need to milk a dry topic, really. It's that uninteresting.
Just stir it whenever possible, the debate is as fun as the subject is pointless. Best served cold, with a large audience.