Babies: Give Vegan a Chance, No a REAL Chance.

It has come to the attention of I, the Hippie Jesus, that there is a disgruntled baby who regularly posts on this page and he has recently taken to making disparaging remarks about myself, veganism and vegan food. Although I will not engage in a written debate with a baby, this does bring to light a serious topic on which I have been meaning to expound: the filthy practice of feeding babies from their mother’s breasts.

As a vegan, I have entered into a covenant with the animals of this planet. They know instinctively when they meet me that I am a friend. The Hippie Jesus has refrained from eating all animal related products for the past six incarnations of his life and that kind of commitment to the animals does not go unnoticed. It is as if they smell the peacefulness on me and even a mosquito will refrain from sipping my sweet, pure blood because he instinctively realized that I am on his side. Most vegans now realize that maintaining their animal purity means refraining from eating all animal products, or feeding others animal products, but some vegans, sadly, have overlooked one key area.

There are some of my brethren out there who believe that feeding babies breast milk is a normal, healthy thing to do. The Hippie Jesus would like to know how feeding a baby you’re own milky waste by-products is normal? Sure your body naturally makes milk when you’re pregnant, but guess what? It makes spit too and would you spit in your babies mouth? No, you would not.

As we can all agree that animals should not be enslaved by humans for meat or milk or even honey, why is that we allow perfectly healthy, beautiful vegan mothers to pollute their babies with this milky body waste as though they were sad, enslaved dairy cattle?

You know, I once did a tree sit with a lovely girl named Marigold who had recently given birth to her son whom she named Cas-Cannibis. Now the little tyke was cute, and it was fun to hold him over the side of the tree and let him defecate on loggers, but when it came to feeding time the whole sorry mess made me sick to my stomach. The poor mother would have to stop what she was doing at all hours of the day and night, just to pop her lovely breast in the screaming baby’s mouth. This woman was like a dairy cow chained up to a milking machine and the food she was feeding her son obviously produced a whole litany of unnatural side effects like drowsiness, flatulence, diarrhea and vomiting.

Marigold and I parted ways not long after little Cas-Cannibas was born simply because I couldn’t bear to watch them both suffer under the misguided notion that breastfeeding is a natural – even necessary act. There are so many other natural things to feed babies. Plant-based baby foods like soy formula, hemp formula, almond-rice-soy formula and raw veggie juice, for instance. There was no need for this lovely vegan woman to defile her pristine breasts with the filthy mouth of her offspring. I suspect that the baby posting on this page has emotional problems due to his diet and that is why I’m letting him get away with his thoughtless, uninformed babblings. The Hippie Jesus will take a pass when it comes to picking on babies, but he will not take a pass on breast feeders.

If you are a breastfeeding mother, you are NOT a true vegan, nor are you a feminist. You are impure and on the path to destruction. It’s only a matter of time before you find yourself back to sucking on the teat of the dairy industry. Heed my warning, so-called vegan mothers. You need only look into the eye of a dairy cow slave to truly know what side you are on.

How to Keep From Starving as an Artist in Portland

Hard to believe I am still here feeding you cool cats the “real deal” on such a regular basis–that means I do it a lot. Times are hard out on the streets of Portland, especially as an artist. I mean, I get it, gang. We can’t all master the bio-rhythms of eight dimensions while shaving with our minds. I had to rough it once, I did half an hour in a Clackamas jail and was forced to mow the lawn. Let’s just say that my practical jokester buddy Tan Peluski thought it would be super funny to spike my inhaler with ether. I had a cold at the time, so I didn’t detect the… I couldn’t smell the shit and it fucked me up for a little while, dudes. I feel your pain.

It would be easy to despair (oops!) feel like shit about thing the way that they are, but fear no more, because your distant evolutionary cousin, Art Jeanyus, has his hands on the key that unlocks the door to one of the most magic, mysterious, fantastic, well guarded, whispered about in important bathrooms, conglomerate, hypothetical… lol, sorry guys, sometimes I can’t help myself and I just start using big words that mean different things just to see the reactions on your faces. Telepathic, remember? Yeah, I saw what you were doing a minute ago.


I have compiled a list of the top 5 business ideas for the Portland artist to have on the side. Special consideration (oops!) favoritism (shit!) I mean thought extra hard to find ones that were a) under the table; b) legal; c) very easy to get going; don’t worry, I got it. 🙂

  1. Toilet
    That’s right, you can be a toilet. A port-a-potty. Many people would pay good money to shower you in shit and piss onto you. Requires absolutely no thought, talent, or capitol (oops!) I mean starting money. The only drawback to this one is the smell, but they make nose-plugs, or you could just keep some Jolly Ranchers in your pocket for emergencies.
  2. Fast Food, Slow Delivery
    You like to get drunk and wander around aimlessly as it is, so you might as well make some money while you’re doing it. If you walk around the Lloyd Center area, for example, you have proximity (damn!) you’re close to a whole bunch of places. Taco Bell, Burger King, McDonald’s, Wendy’s, KFC, no, wait.. KFC isn’t there any more. My point is, all you need is a cell phone and a sharpie marker. Write down your number on the wall of the restaurants and have it say “call for delivery”. Just wander as usual, but write down orders with that sharpie (you’ll need paper too), pick up money from people when you happen to be nearby and drop off their food when you get a chance. Add in a $5 delivery fee too, because this is important, anyone desperate enough to have fast food delivered is in no way shape or form going to argue over the details. Don’t limit yourself to just fast food, either, once you get the hang of it, you can pick up and deliver all kinds of things for people! You wander around aimlessly anyways, so you might as well carry things for people while you’re at it.
  3. Handjobs
    Everywhere you look, there is a man desperate enough to pay you $20 for a handjob. Since you’re an artist, you’re good with your hands, so it will be a natural enough feeling. Even if you’re bad at it, this should add up to at least $40 an hour. Just pretend it’s a paintbrush and your mouth is an eager blank canvas. Remember, when the cops ask, he paid you back for a bar tab, and you were just thanking him properly.

I know I said it would be 5 jobs, but you know what? Those three are plenty for now. I don’t want to give you too much to take in all at once. If these don’t work out for you, never fear, for I will soon be sharing with you the secret of turning air into money. No kidding, man.

Art Jeanyus

Around the Mayor’s Waist in Sixty Seconds

Good evening, Portland! Salvia Darling here, coming to you live from the side of the Willamette River. I would tell you which side, but as heartache starts to become a widespread epidemic amongst my young, female anchor-groupies, I have set my cloaking device to engage.

Portland's Mayor at a Jenny Craig seminar.

This just in! the Mayor could stand to lose some weight! The Mayor was spotted recently at a Jenny Craig seminar, and was thought to be there to rally support in the overweight female community, [censored by Salvia] Adams-haters. Just before this photo was taken, he asked the Ladies of Craig if his pants made him look fat, to which they unanimously laughed and [censored by Salvia]. I know it looks like those are his hands on his hips, but if you look close you can tell it’s actually flabby hip-meat protruding upwards. If you look really close you can see the fishing wire. Looks like somebody’s been using the elevator!

This just in! Portland Police carry guns! On Monday, March 22nd, Portland police shot an unidentified white man (sic) to death. (for those of you that need further explanation of such a fantastic event, he was homeless) Apparently, the man was [censored by Salvia] and [censored by Salvia] people at Washington Park, and when officers arrived he approached them with a razor blade, cutting his own [censored by Salvia]. The tragic thing is, a homeless guy finally gets his hands on a shaving device, and the cops shoot him for it. This is an example of Portland’s impenetrable class system at work, hey homeless guys, the powers that be in this fair city would like you to stay in your [censored by Salvia] and keep washing those windshields. Put down your razor blades, and your bars of soap. You will always be second class citizens in the Rose City. Get used to it, or get shot several times.

This just in! Caligula was an interesting person! This just in! Corey Haim was also an interesting person! Inside joke, but who isn’t interesting in this day and age? We all have camera crews following us around, we all have hair and makeup people taking care of our appearance. We have press secretaries, personal assistants, bodyguards, producers ringing the phone off the hook day and night… Underage groupies ready to bang. No wait, that’s just me.

This just in! Salvia Darling has five teenage chicks to bang tonight and only two rubbers! You do the math, people. Do I keep using the first one until it breaks, and then go with the backup, or do I bareback the three that seem the most clean, and hope for a timely pullout? Think of it like a story problem, what’s the answer to Salvia’s riddle Portland?

The Mystery of the Dirty Underwear!

Oh seriously!  Dirty Underwear! I love dirty Underwear! What about dirty Underwood. Oh really now, no not the country singer but the country singee in my pants.. Really now. I was taking my eveing bath. Oh for real now evening bath…Can I laugh out loud! LOL! There we go, seriously I was scrubbing last nights excriment from my underside when I noticed a pair of dirty underwear on my bathroom floor. O.k. the floor of the gas station down the street to the office but still I use that place all the time. What a disgrace! Really now, o.k. I picked them up… I know I know. .Tan, what the hell did you do that for! Seriously though some of my drink had spilled onto them and I wanted to squeeze out what I could.. Oh really now this is nasty I know.. So I squeezed and I giant brown ice cube fell into my glass!!!!!! Really now I smiled in awe. God was looking out for me. He sent a frozen chocalte ice cube down from heaven to adorn my glass of liquor with.. What a guy, or thing or cosmic being, whatever. It was awesome, like when I said my ex wifes name while trying to find my other ex wifes box…. Oh really now speaking of box my ex wife had one but it was never hot… Oh seriously… So back to my chocolate ice cube. It ws delicious!!! Really like a summer treat! So I’m on the look out for the kind being that left those dirty underwear in the bathroom. Anyone? Anyone? Did you know it was a vessel for the lords bidding…? Of course you did1 Seriously chocolate ice cube giver send me wears, more of them my drink is getting warm and the chocolate is melting into a gooshy, mooshy sea of yummy mess. I must keep this Gin cold….

Drama in the Office

"Henry O" Portland City's very own basement dwelling twinkie machine. He is our backdoor to the darkest secrets of the Portland art and political scene.

Rumor has it drama is spreading across the portland art scene, spreading like a thick buttery substance that often gets spread over the mountainous ripples of my backside. If rumors are true then soon Portland could be witness to it’s own cosmic implosion of artistic butt cheese.

Recently while heading up from the basement of well known art non profit group that has a strong hold on the scene I over heard director Chris Haberman speaking on the phone with whom I suspect to be our very own mayor Sam “Teen Chaser” Adams. Though factually I cannot say it was Sam Adams on the phone with Chris Haberman but since I have encountered our Mayor on several occassions speeding behind me with vigor, hands out, tongue flapping and panting like a wet dog until of course I reared my over eighteen head and he swallowed his pride for one moment to say in exhaustion “Sorry I’m training for the CATCH THE TEEN 5K next month.” I realized a familliar sound on the other end of the phone which I recognized as the same deep breathing of our dear mayor, sounds I had heard many times before.

Squirming my way through the hall and huffing up the final step ( Did I mention they don’t build stairwells wide enough for really really fat guys ) My ears hath not deceived me as Chris Haberman spoke in a sweaty voice. “If anyone finds out we run both websites our fine image as artists supporting artists and our community will be tarnished. We’ll be hung, dipped in tar and feathered, not to mention how many less teen boys you’ll be able to sack .” ( Oh, this was the other hint that Sam Adams was on the other line )

Sweat piled up in my under garments. Well what was left of them, in the  least the parts not riding up my gorgeous chunky highway of manliness. I then realized as I swung the door open to reveal the sidewalk outside and the crumbs of Twinkies I had left to help me find my way home, Chris Haberman had said something even I Henry O’ could not believe he said. Muffling his ginormous mouth he whispered “Action needs to take place. We need to take out Tan Peluski and Art Jeanyus. The others will fall if we take down their kings, like Rome will be no more and in the wake of it’s aftermath we will look like heroes in the eyes of the art community,  as long as no one finds out that we started the website in the first place.”

What!!!! How could this be? Two websites? Different staff? all part of a plot to gain control and respect of the community and its innocent artists. I was astonished so I headed to the store for a pound of chicken, three cans of baked beans and a box of twinkies. After totally stuffing my face and exercising my bodies ability to store fat like a god I immediately contacted Tan Peluski. Him and Art Jeanyus invited me to be a member of staff in hopes to somehow put a wrench in this evil plot. I can only hope there isn’t already a rat on the inside, a trojan horse of sorts. Be fore warned, there are dark things happening at and our beloved Tan Peluski and Art Jeanyus are the targets of well designed plot to manufacture simpleton artists on their knees begging for another show at the same local venue with no hope for a steady income only commsions and donations offered up in sacrifice to Chris Haberman and his crew of deliquent vigilanties.

Ooohhh hewwoh, A Weeeaawy goooood awticle.

My name is a Ohara-Ohara-Ohara spewwed Ohara-Ohara-Ohara pwonounced Ohawa-Ohawa-Ohawa. I am witing a new cowumn fow these guys and it is going to be a weeeaaawy weeeaawy goooooooood. Me going to talk about technowogy. Fun new items that are happening in the wewold. I be taking those items and puwwing them apawt then putting them togethew…… Then I be tewwing you allllllllllllllll about it…… It be a soooooopa fun ting to wead. So check back in and wead my vewy fiwst awticle about my favowite ting. Diwdo’s Oh sooooooooooopaaaaaaa fun.

Tank you,


Baby mad! Baby not like Hippie Jesus!

Me Baby! Me not like Hippie Jesus, Hippie Jesus vegan. Icky Poo! Vegan food tastes like doo doo. Me Baby, Me hope Hippie Jesus fall out of his tree and go splat on Hawthorne. Baby think Hippie Jesus stoopid! Ga Ga doo doo pants! Baby going to hire bad man to spike Hippie jesus food with bloody dead puppy juice. You bad man Hippie Jesus! Me puke on your shoe! Me go now. Baby upset.

The World According to Vegan

Everyday more and more people are tossing aside the shackles of cruelty and embracing the compassionate and ethical path of the vegan, but sadly, many of them are doing it for all the wrong reasons. Becoming a vegan isn’t about making a healthier lifestyle choice or about making a minuscule, but still completely relevant, impact on the environment. Becoming a vegan is nothing short of a religious experience.

Once a person manages to wash away all traces of the blood of his fellow creatures, the soul of that person is reborn. Being a vegan is not a way of life; it is an evolution in consciousness that takes you closer to ultimate truth, purity and perfection.

I myself have been a vegan for the past six of my lives, and I can attest to the spiritual clarity and wisdom that comes from becoming truly pure. Vegans like myself coexist peacefully with nature, like a tree lives in a forest or a cactus lives in the desert. We harm none and in doing so, we have ascended to a new level of reality.

It is no surprise that flesh eaters are falling down dead in greater and greater numbers from obesity related illnesses. The animals will have their revenge and that revenge is diabetes, cancer and heart disease! Those who consume flesh think they have the right to commit murder of their fellow creatures, but who gets the last laugh? Those kind gentle farm animals do by depositing their tiny cholesterol bombs throughout the bodies of the unpure. Wake up, murderers! Karmic retribution is on its way in the form of hardening arteries and diabetic comas!

Sadly most people are spiritually asleep and will never know the profound love, beauty and wisdom that comes with veganism. While I believe it is the duty of every vegan to enlighten the world and guide others to the path of perfection, I am primarily writing this column for those who have already seen the light. I decided that it was high time that somebody came forward and talked about the real reason we all become vegans: to be better people, better than flesh eaters and thus better than nearly everyone we know.

Vegans face so many challenges on their path to enlightenment and I, the Hippie Jesus, am stepping forward to guide, encourage and love those few brave souls ascending to perfection. There are too many blogs and books by skinny bitches out there focusing on the health benefits of veganism, loosing weight by becoming vegan or worse those that merely provide vegan recipes and self-indulgent photos of every single meal they eat. We must rise above these trivial mundane concerns and focus on remaining pure, and therefore, more evolved than the rest of the world.

If you are a vegan, I invite you to come back and check regularly for more articles on how to be a better person through veganism. I hope to cover topics such as:

How to avoid touching people who may have touched dead flesh.

Fake meats: the devil in disguise.

Living with tapeworms, our parasitic friends.

Outing faux vegans (Pamela Anderson, I’m talking to you.)

I know yogurt has living cultures, but does it have a soul?

Stay tuned in, my brothers and sisters of peace, for this and more enlightening discourse. Until then, “Namaste.”

Crouching Cougar, Hidden Agendas

You, know I am just sick to death of all the pigs driving around and giving god-fearing, tax paying, Republican voting, cousin-loving Christian Americans like myself speeding tickets. This is America people. This is where morally self-righteous white people have chosen for their Capitalist Holy Land. That is all.