Nina Paley

Ever wonder what ruminant/bird you need to sacrifice for your sins and impurities? Well wonder no more. This handy table makes it easy to atone! 

I asked SuperGrok (an AI chatbot) to make me a table of all the sins/impurities in the Old Testament requiring a sacrificial offering. Here’s what it produced. You’re welcome.

Sin/Guilt (or related impurity requiring compensatory offering)	Standard Offering	Discounted Offering (if available)
Unintentional sin by the anointed (high) priest (brings guilt on the people; Lev 4:3–12)	Young bull without defect (sin offering)	None specified
Unintentional sin by the whole Israelite community/congregation (Lev 4:13–21)	Young bull (sin offering)	None specified
Unintentional sin by a leader/ruler (Lev 4:22–26)	Male goat without defect (sin offering)	None specified
Unintentional sin by a common person (doing what is forbidden in the Lord’s commands; Lev 4:27–35)	Female goat without defect, or female lamb without defect (sin offering)	(See graduated options under specific cases in Lev 5; not universally restated)
Failing to testify / withhold evidence when one has heard a public charge (Lev 5:1)	Female lamb or goat from the flock (sin offering), after confession	Two doves or two young pigeons (one sin offering + one burnt); or, if still unable, 1/10 ephah finest flour (no oil/incense) as sin offering
Unwittingly touching ceremonially unclean things (e.g., carcass of unclean animal or creature) and later realizing guilt (Lev 5:2)	Female lamb or goat (sin offering), after confession	Two doves/pigeons (one sin + one burnt); or 1/10 ephah finest flour (sin offering)
Touching human uncleanness of any kind that makes one unclean, even if initially unaware, then realizing guilt (Lev 5:3)	Female lamb or goat (sin offering), after confession	Two doves/pigeons (one sin + one burnt); or 1/10 ephah finest flour (sin offering)
Thoughtlessly / rashly taking an oath (to do good or evil) and later realizing guilt (Lev 5:4)	Female lamb or goat (sin offering), after confession	Two doves/pigeons (one sin + one burnt); or 1/10 ephah finest flour (sin offering)
Unfaithfulness by unintentional sin regarding the Lord’s holy things (Lev 5:14–16)	Ram without defect from the flock (guilt offering, of proper value) + full restitution + additional 1/5 to the priest	None specified
Sin by doing what is forbidden in any of the Lord’s commands, even without knowing it at the time, then realizing guilt (Lev 5:17–19)	Ram without defect (or its equivalent/value) as guilt offering	None specified
Sins against a neighbor (deceiving about something entrusted/stolen, cheating, finding lost property and lying about it, swearing falsely about such matters; Lev 6:1–7)	Full restitution + additional 1/5 to the owner + ram without defect (of proper value) as guilt offering	None specified
General unfaithfulness / wrong against another (with no surviving kinsman to receive restitution; Num 5:5–8)	Confession + full restitution + 1/5 (to the priest if no kin) + guilt offering	None specified
Sexual relations with a betrothed slave woman (Lev 19:20–22)	Ram as guilt offering (after investigation; she is not put to death)	None specified
Unintentional sin by the whole community (failing to observe commandments; Num 15:22–26)	One young bull as burnt offering (with grain and drink offerings) + one male goat as sin/purification offering	None specified
Unintentional sin by an individual (Num 15:27–29)	Yearling female goat as sin/purification offering	None specified
After childbirth (purification from flow of blood; Lev 12:6–8)	Year-old lamb (burnt offering) + young pigeon or dove (sin offering)	Two doves or two young pigeons (one burnt + one sin)
Cleansing from a defiling skin disease (after initial rites and waiting period; Lev 14)	Two male lambs + one ewe lamb + finest flour mixed with oil + oil (includes guilt offering of one lamb with blood/oil application to ear/thumb/toe, plus sin and burnt offerings)	One male lamb (guilt offering) + 1/10 ephah finest flour mixed with oil + log of oil + two doves or two young pigeons (one sin + one burnt), “such as they can afford”
Male or female with certain abnormal bodily discharges (after waiting/washing period; Lev 15:13–15, 28–30)	Two doves or two young pigeons (one sin offering + one burnt offering)	None further reduced (birds are the prescribed standard)
Nazirite defiled by contact with a dead body (Num 6:9–12)	Two turtledoves or two young pigeons (one sin + one burnt) on the 8th day; then a male lamb as guilt offering (and restart the vow period)	None specified
Completion of a Nazirite vow (Num 6:13–20)	Male lamb (burnt), ewe lamb (sin), ram (peace), plus grain/drink offerings and other items	None specified

That’s when the sun rises in Urbana, IL at the height of summer. All June and July I got up by 4:15am, so I could be on my bike by 4:40 and ride off into the sunrise.

Sunrise makes anywhere beautiful. Time-shifting my day was like traveling to some desirable vacation destination, without leaving home. While my sister hiked across the Italian Alps, I gasped aloud with wonder at the beauty of every golden morning in my own county. Every day I saw deer and bunnies, the fall and rise of rivers, the phases of the moon.

Well, half the phases of the moon. Just before dawn the moon is only visible between full and almost-new. The full moon sets as the sun rises, on the opposite side of the sky. Each subsequent day as it wanes, it appears a little closer to the sun. By the time it’s a slivery crescent it’s barely ahead of the sunrise, which quickly renders it invisible. Once it’s new and waxing, it chases the sunrise, when the morning sky is too bright to distinguish it. The following weeks it’s on the other side of the earth at pre-dawn, when I leave the house. Not until it’s full or almost-full do I see it again.

Pre-dawn midsummers are cool, or at least tolerable in severe heat waves, which we had this year. The only thing that kept me from biking was rain, and sometimes not even that. I trespassed a few times when I got caught in storms, taking shelter under whatever farm building overhang I could find.

Once I trespassed Rosie’s Tavern on Grape Creek near Belgium, not due to rain but sun: I needed to apply sunscreen for a century (100+ mile) ride that would expose me to the brutal rays I avoid on shorter adventures. Caught on the outdoor security cameras, I was soon visited by a man in a truck with a dog asking what I was doing there. I got in no further trouble but cursed my stupid iPhone, which had updated its OS and re-set Strava without my permission, turning on “cellular data” which drained my battery so fast I had to re-charge it after only 38 miles. That’s what I was doing at Rosie’s too, taking advantage of an outdoor electrical outlet.

I had to keep stopping and charging on that ride, lest my phone die and fail to record my hard-earned 109 miles. I had lunch at a sweet little diner, the Covered Bridge in Eugene Indiana, so I could plug it in for 45 minutes. That wasn’t enough for the full ride, so on my way home I returned to Rosie’s, the scene of my crime, where a woman standing outside said, “are you Nina?”

How did she know? She had sent the security camera image to her sister, who just happens to be an acquaintance and recognized me and my bike. What are the odds? We chatted about mutual friends, she invited me into the tavern (which is like 100 years old, a pre-Prohibition relic) and gave me delicious coke with ice on the house. We exchanged phone numbers and selfies.

That ride ended with me overheating, followed by my first bout of “exercise-induced gastrointestinal syndrome.” My Crohn’s disease-weakened digestive system just shut down, causing several days of serious suffering and a vow to never eat diner food on a long ride again. I also vowed to take shorter, more moderate rides instead of two centuries back-to-back, which is what preceded the episode.

Thus began my glorious 2 months of pre-dawn excursions, during which I didn’t have to wear any nasty sunscreen. Occasionally I would do a metric century (100 kilometers, about 62 miles), but was careful not to over-exert myself nor overheat. I did gradually increase my efforts until the last week of July, when I rode 351 miles, including my first century since late May.

Then I projectile vomited and embarked on my second episode of exercise-induced gastrointestinal syndrome, from which I still haven’t recovered. Or maybe it’s something else. Maybe it’s CANCER! I get to worry about that since I have Crohn’s disease. My blood test a few days ago showed no biomarkers for Crohn’s inflammation, so whatever this is isn’t technically a “flare,” despite the same symptoms.

I would be attempting a moderate sunrise ride this very morning were it not raining. Instead, I’m finally writing about my rides, something I think about on my rides but don’t actually do because riding fills me with satisfying endorphins that remove any further need to express myself. I have written and directed masterpieces on my rides that will never come to fruition, nor even planting. I’m full of great ideas that all work themselves out through the pedaling and breathing and smelling the morning air and watching the sky change colors and seeing deer skip across the roads in front of me. At least in the middle of summer. Which has passed. Winter is my time to create, but only because it’s too cold to ride.

See you then.

My dream-bike-in-progress, the Jackalope, will have a logo etched (“bead blasted”) into the titanium, on each side of the frame. I have been working on said logo for over a week. Here’s the latest iteration:

That is iteration #19. Here’s how it started:

And here are some iterations between 1 and 19:

Anger is a dubious luxury. It’s a luxury I displayed quite conspicuously most of my life. My anger was righteous: animals were suffering, and it was my fellow humans’ fault. Humans were suffering, and that was humans’ fault too. Fucking humans fucked everything up. I was a species traitor, refusing to put more humans into the world to fuck it up further. I resented breeders, carnivores, complacent media-watchers, the military, cops, consumers, investors, financiers, the religious, the unenlightened, the incorrectly-enlightened, the self-righteous, and the resentful.

The only reason I’ve simmered down as I’ve aged is I just don’t have as much energy to sustain such continual righteous fury. I gotta economize. Just as my metabolism has grown so efficient my aged body needs about half as many calories as it used to, my aged psyche has learned to do more with less.

Activism is an outlet for the young, who may be poor in wealth but rich in energy. Where does that energy go? In my country, young people aren’t drafted for wars. Few do manual labor. Few do any work at all, as childhood is delayed longer and longer, and more are expected to extend their educations to at least their early 20’s. There is a surplus of youthful energy.

When you have a surplus of wealth, you display it. Displays of righteous anger demonstrate fitness and vitality: this person has so much surplus energy they can afford to be ineffectually furious at things they have absolutely no control over. Someone that angry is psychically wealthy, if not psychologically healthy. Dog knows I used to swoon at men who were as passionately activist as myself. Angry young men: hot.

Bonkers activism brings hot young people together, in a world where they’d otherwise be isolated in front of computer screens. When you can’t afford gratuitous displays of monetary excess in the form of, say, designer bags or fancy cars — or even when you can! — you may still be able to afford gratuitous displays of emotional excess.

Would I still be angry at the world’s infinite injustices if I had the energy to care? I’d like to think I’m now wise enough to know better, but at my age it’s hard to know what’s wisdom and what’s menopause.

I am an ex-vegan. A vegan apostate.

But:

Despite eating dairy products and fish, I still eat a lot of vegan meals. I don’t actually like meat, and while I consume yogurt and cheese, I suffer some lactose intolerance.

I recently chatted with a friend who has been vegetarian for 6 years and wants to stop. He wants to eat the same things as his wife, an omnivore; he wants more protein; he believes some meat in his diet would improve his health. “But I just can’t,” he said. 6 years off meat has made him squeamish.

I am squeamish too. That’s my main reason for refusing to eat birds and mammals: the thought is simply too icky for me. I eat fish occasionally, which is icky enough. I need to build up some real hunger for it to overcome my aesthetic aversion. When I really crave animal protein, it’s fine; anything less and it feels gross.

How fortunate I am, then, that I don’t have to eat fish, let alone other meat, every day. I have all kinds of plant options readily available at my local mainstream grocery store. Despite my criticism of vegan “fake” foods (especially simulated dairy), I happen to love “fake meat,” especially “Chick’n”. Not because it in any way resembles chicken, but because it doesn’t. It’s just toothy concentrated plant protein wrapped in a salty oily coating, calorie-intensive and tasty the way only highly processed junk food can be. I keep this stuff in my freezer and enjoy it about once a week. It was almost impossible to get 25 years ago, when I was a practicing vegan. Now I can get it at my local Meijer.

I have vegans to thank for this. Vegans who worked very hard pushing fake meat into the American mainstream. I hear investments in these idealistic plant-based food companies are drying up; that would be a shame. Hardworking, annoying vegans made these options possible not just for other vegans, but for me and you and everyone. Hardworking, annoying vegans — vegans who work hard at being annoying — got a number of fast-food outlets to place vegan offerings on their menus. They are the reason I can get an edible “Impossible Burger” at most American restaurants, instead of being stuck with some grain-based “veggie burger” which is basically a bread sandwich.

My squeamish friend bemoaned his reliance on expensive protein shakes. “Oooh have you tried Soylent Creamy Chocolate?” I evangelized. “These save my ass on long bike rides!” He couldn’t believe a plant-based shake could taste good, so I broke open a bottle and we split it. Why did I so enthusiastically push this highly processed vegan beverage on my friend? Not because I want either of us to be vegan — we were both discussing how we want to move AWAY from veganism. No, I was pushing it because it’s an excellent product and I love it.

Once again I have vegans to thank. Who else would painstakingly formulate this concoction, figure out how to make it tasty AND shelf-stable, and create a viable company to distribute it throughout the USA so I can get it easily? Thank you, vegans!

Many vegans are annoying. But the squeaky wheel gets the avocado oil, and by being squeaky for all these years, vegans have improved and expanded food offerings in America’s lavish markets. Thus, they have made our capitalist lives better. They may condemn our non-vegan impurity, and we may ridicule their idealism, but we all benefit from having more and better choices at the grocery store.

So thank you, vegans. You’ve improved the life of at least one animal: me.

Human beings exploit the earth and each other. We torture, kill and eat animals. We cut down forests and poison the soil and water. We make war. We drive filthy cars and pave the world. We pollute. We bully and scapegoat. We hold crazy beliefs and belong to irrational cults and religions. We don’t think for ourselves. We long for freedom while enforcing repression. We censor and suppress and police and call out and turn each other in. We rip each other new assholes while covering our own. We all think we’re better than the rest. We are hypocrites who are appalled by hypocrisy.

For meaning in our lives, we may fixate on one human evil and try to rise above it. Pro-Environment. Animal Rights. Freedom of Speech. Christianity. Communism.

The more we embrace these virtues, the more insufferable we become.

It’s human nature to try to rise above human nature.

There is simply no way out of being human. There are billions of us, each individual a node in an incomprehensibly complex network, a brain cell in a Great Brain. Sometimes we convert our neighbors, which gives rise to cults or religions or nations which then butt up against each other and go to war.

We might clean up our own little space: grow our own food, avoid filthy money by bartering, bike instead of drive, don’t eat meat. Little pockets of purity in a polluted world. Somewhere else, something worse is happening to compensate. Thank you for lowering demand of farmed animal products: now the price goes down so more can consume them. Thank you for biking instead of driving: now there’s more room on the road for another car. Thank you for Not Breeding: now someone else can, plus there’s a panic about “population implosion” and the culture is more pro-natalist than before.

While we’re doing all this Good, we try to persuade others. We never think we’re actively proselytizing, just taking opportunities for “teaching moments.” For sooner or later someone will notice our behavior is a little (or a lot) different and ask us about it. Maybe we’ll even convince them! Score! Now our cult is growing, and if it grows enough we’ll be able to clash with competing cults, more repressively enforce the purity of our in-group, and perhaps go to war with an out-group or two.

I call this The Law of Conservation of Evil.

I have clung to many causes: Environmentalism, Anti-Natalism, Vegetarianism/Veganism, Bikes Not Cars, Free Speech. I have been insufferable. Still, I am human, and humans need meaning in our lives, and that which lights us up the most can also make us the most insufferable.

I’m currently interested in how to avoid cults. I fear and condemn cults. If I develop a good theory of cults, and argue persuasively, I might create an anti-cult cult, just as Antifa creates fascism and anti-racism creates racism.

Back away from Identity

“Back away from Identity” advised Third Way Trans, a desister from the transgender cult, before he deleted his wonderful blog. That’s the rare idea that might be cult-proof.

Humans cannot rise above our evil, which is also our humanity. We can shift it around a little from locality to locality, just as we shift our “recyclable” garbage from our local landfill to somewhere in the ocean. The best we can do is back away from identity, from the need to be “good” or better than our fellows, and to acknowledge and accept Reality.

But don’t let me get too attached to convincing you of that! Carry on, world.