Hey Tintin, when I look down at my plate and those teary-eyed vegetables look back up at me and say "Mister, please don't eat us, plants have feelings too!!!", what else can I do but spare their lives (luckily the animals are already dead when I eat the burgers, so they can't talk back to me!!!).
That awkward moment when ungodly me back in college, before I came back to the fold, explains to the neurotic vegetarian girl that refuses to turn on her lights in her dorm room and who makes her profs read her papers off her laptop because she doesn't want to waste paper by printing them... when I explained to her that vegetables are
STILL ALIVE when cooked or eaten, otherwise they would not be green, that photosynthesis and other cellular activities are still taking place and they have been slowly dying since picked and that when you bake bread that is the moment you kill the yeast cultures... and then three weeks later her dad drives down from Vermont and eventually checks her out of the hospital where she had been because she had refused to eat Anything.
That is very possibly the worst thing I ever did. I still feel remorse and sorrow over it.
I couldn't help think of that when you said what you did, Descyple. After all, you are not really killing them by eating them. You're putting them out of the misery of a slow death of starvation/dehydration and instead rending and grinding them in your mouth and dissolving them in the acid of your stomach.