Product Description

In 1996, when Howard Lyman warned America on The Oprah Winfrey Show that Mad Cow Disease was coming to America, offended cattlemen sued him and Oprah both. Not only were Lyman and Oprah vindicated in court, but events have proved many of Lyman's predictions absolutely right. Mad Cow Disease has come to America, and Lyman argues persuasively in No More Bull! that the problem will only grow more deadly until our government deals with it seriously.

In Mad Cowboy, Lyman, a fourth-generation Montana rancher turned vegetarian then vegan, told the story of his personal transformation after a spinal tumor, which he believes was caused by agricultural chemicals, nearly left him paralyzed. In No More Bull!, Lyman uses his humor, compassion, firsthand experience in agriculture, and command of the facts of health to argue that we might all profit by transforming our diets. He makes a powerful case that Alzheimer's is yet another disease linked to eating meat. And he explains that the steak at the heart of your dinner plate not only may destroy your own heart but actually offers no more nutritional value than a doughnut! If you've been confused by the competing claims of the Atkins Diet, the South Beach Diet, and other fad diets, No More Bull! is the book that will set you straight. Its pure, unvarnished truth is told with down-home common sense.

Lyman's got a message for meat eaters, vegetarians, and vegans -- and the message of No More Bull! is that we can all do better for ourselves and the planet.

Product Details

• Amazon Sales Rank: #142348 in Books
• Published on: 2005-09-13
• Original language: English
• Number of items: 1
• Binding: Paperback
• 288 pages

Review
"Reading No More Bull is an amazing experience. It is a wonder how a book can be such a pleasure to read, so entertaining and enjoyable, and yet carry such a profoundly important message. If you read this book, several things will happen. There will be more health in your life. There will be more joy in your life. And you will be playing a part in the greater healing our troubled world so greatly needs."

-- John Robbins, author of Diet for a New America

Review
"In a witty but candid and no-nonsense language, Howard Lyman speaks a truth about health that needs telling. Few messages are more important for our times and almost no one has the personally compelling experiences that make Lyman's telling of the story so unique and so persuasive. This is a fun but serious book to read. Try it and I think you'll like it!"

-- T. Colin Campbell, PhD., Jacob Gould Schuman Professor Emeritus of Nutritional Biochemistry, Cornell University

"Reading No More Bull is an amazing experience. It is a wonder how a book can be such a pleasure to read, so entertaining and enjoyable, and yet carry such a profoundly important message. If you read this book, several things will happen. There will be more health in your life. There will be more joy in your life. And you will be playing a part in the greater healing our troubled world so greatly needs."

-- John Robbins, author of Diet for a New America

Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.
Introduction: My Journey

I grew up outside of Great Falls, Montana, as a fourth-generation dairy farmer and cattle rancher. It was a way of life that I believed in deeply, as did my whole family. We worked hard and did our small part to help provide America with high-quality beef and fresh, rich dairy products. I ran the Lyman Ranch until I was forty-five. My learning curve may have been a little slow, but I eventually learned the crucial lesson that impels me to write this book: the "wholesome" meat and dairy products that I was in the business of selling to the public were in fact poisons.

I can guarantee you that if you knew as much as I do about what goes into creating meat and dairy in America today -- if you could see behind the walls that those who practice large-scale animal agriculture in this country seek to keep in place -- your diet would resemble my own. Vegan. I haven't consumed an animal product in over a dozen years, and during that time all my considerable health problems (along with over a hundred unnecessary pounds) have melted away.

I was born in 1938, an ominous time in Europe, but just another Depression year back home. Growing up during World War II, I had no idea my family was poor. In addition to the farm, we had a large garden that I helped to tend. My love for birds, trees, and healthy soil came from working there as a boy. The family didn't have much cash, but we ate very well and I had no wants.

During the war, it was almost impossible to hire any help, so the entire family was pressed into providing the labor to keep the operation running. I remember to this day that whenever there was a family picnic, we would have to leave early to get home so we could milk the cows. I vowed early on that I would never again have my life controlled by the mammary secretions of a cow.

Going to school provided me with a welcome break from work. I loved the freedom of spending time in a warm, clean environment. I liked it so much that I forgot to devote any time to learning. My first twelve years in school consisted of partying and playing football -- at both of which I excelled. If I did any studying at all, it's escaped my memory.

I accomplished my main objective in high school: our team won the state football championship. In the same year, without noticing how it happened, I also somehow managed to graduate. After high school, I spent a year working on the farm full time, where it became apparent that I didn't have the tools to become a successful farmer -- especially not in an age in which science was boldly coming to the aid of agriculture. Although I didn't know much, I knew enough to realize that the farms that employed new technologies had the competitive edge.

My solution was to enroll in Montana State College, at its College of Agriculture, where I learned not only much of what I had neglected in high school but also a great deal more -- about pesticides, herbicides, synthetic fertilizers, hormones, and antibiotics. My agriculture professors were all chemists, and I truly believed that they understood more about farming than my old man, who'd been doing it all his life and didn't believe in their newfangled ways.

Upon graduation, I received a commission as a second lieutenant in the Army. While serving a two-year tour in the United States, I learned a lot about organizing and leading. I planned to put those skills to good use in running the farm.

When I returned home from the Army, my brother was dying from cancer. The management of the entire operation fell on my shoulders. It was a responsibility that I had to take seriously because it meant providing a living for several families. Bursting with confidence, I expanded the family's small, organic dairy farm into a large factory farm. We took on thousands of head of cattle, thousands of acres of crops, and over thirty employees. I truly believed that it was necessary for the business to constantly get bigger, or else it would go under. Looking back on it today, I just shake my head in wonder at how I could have managed to get nearly everything wrong.

I used herbicides and pesticides liberally to grow feed for my cattle. Concentrating thousands of head of cattle from different origins in close quarters bred disease, so I added antibiotics to the feed like sugar to a breakfast cereal for kids. Since cattle were not designed by nature to digest the grain that I was using to fatten them up, I fought a constant losing battle to control their digestive ailments. I injected steroids into my bovines to further stimulate their growth and to abort pregnant heifers. I sprayed insecticide to combat the flies that were attracted to my operation like, well, flies to cow manure. And I did it all without the aid of goggles or protective clothing.

In retrospect, it seems unsurprising that, at the height of my chemical farming, in 1979, I was paralyzed from the waist down by a tumor on the inside of my spinal cord. But at the time it came as something of a shock. I had suffered back pain for many years, which I had attributed to an incident at my sister's wedding, when she and her groom jumped into their Volkswagen after the ceremony and I wittily grabbed the rear bumper and lifted the back end of the vehicle off the ground, preventing them from taking off. Volkswagens turn out to be heavier than they look, at least when they're loaded down with presents. I succeeded in delaying my sister's honeymoon by about a minute, and thought I had paid a price in pain.

But it turned out that the cause of my backache was not my nuptial antics but a tumor that had been growing for so long, it was practically old enough to vote. The damned thing had been sneaking up on me, and when it finally pounced, it pounced hard -- preventing me from walking, from even being able to feel the floor beneath my feet. The doctor told me that I needed an operation to remove the tumor, and that the odds I would ever walk again were one in a million. I promised myself that, whatever the outcome of the operation, I'd dedicate the balance of my life to restoring health to the land I had damaged, and to fighting those agri-business interests that continue to destroy the fertile earth that should be our birthright.

My operation was successful. Every day I thank God that I can walk, and I renew my vow. I can truly say that my life splits neatly into two parts: before the operation, when I was dangerously unhealthy, thoughtless, self-centered, and devoid of compassion for the animals I slaughtered; and after, when the lessons I've learned about kindness and compassion have taken me on a journey that has restored my own health.

I've done a lot of things since then to fight for a healthy, sustainable system of agriculture. I began returning my own farm to the organic operation that it had been when my father ran it. I worked for the National Farmers Union, lobbying for small farmers in Congress. I ran for Congress myself in Montana, losing by three percentage points.

But the smartest thing I ever did was to start down a path that eventually led me to become a vegan. It was a process that took years; I made some mistakes along the way, and I'm still learning. But I have arrived now at a diet that leaves me with more energy than I've felt since I was a kid, and leaves my doctor shaking his head in wonder at all the glorious numbers in my blood work -- one hell of an improvement over the ominous numbers that used to make me think that my only hope was to buy more life insurance. I understand now that no change could produce as much benefit for our land and the water -- and our health -- than a shift among the American populace toward a plant-based diet.

All my energies now are devoted to reaching that goal. It is my hope that this book can bring us a small step closer to achieving it.

Copyright © 2005 by Voice for a Viable Future

Customer Reviews

humorous, honest, unapologetic
The Mad Cowboy rides again! The long-awaited continuation of his rants and raves on veganism and politics comes through as madcap as ever but with a smart edge that promises to leave a trail of vegan converts. We all know someone who went vegetarian after reading Diet for a New America, and Howard Lyman is threatening to become the next John Robbins, with an endearing smile and naughty wink. No More Bull is a Howard Lyman hit.

The infamous cattle rancher-turned-vegan has a no-holds-barred writing style that occasionally smacks of his mischievous speaking style. I envy his matter-of-fact manner and I'd hate to find myself debating him, but I count on him to tell it to me straight. As a fan familiar with his speaking style, I often hear his co-writers in the pages of No More Bull, as if two others are sitting with Howard and me over coffee discussing veganism. Their writing styles gel together well.

Lyman doesn't mince words when he addresses meat-eaters in the chapter "Message for My Meat-Eating Friends":

"To state the obvious: vegetarians live longer than meat eaters simply and solely because we do not consume the filthy, fatty, disease-ridden, decaying flesh of animals. (Forgive me for being so blunt, but there is no such thing as a clean, lean form of meat, and no other honest way to describe meat - even if you buy it "organic," or blessed by rabbis, or hunt it down yourself.) Vegans live longer still because we avoid as well the fatty, hormone-rich, cholesterol-ridden by-products of the lactation of other major mammals."

Simple as that, my friends.

His call to arms comes in the next chapter - "Message for My Fellow Vegetarians and Vegans." Referring to milk as "liquid meat," Lyman asks "for those of you who are still merely vegetarian and not yet vegan, I ask, what in heaven's name are you waiting for?" He's endearing, nonetheless, not obnoxious, though some vegetarians might take offense if they understandably feel singled out.

Lyman pushes the point that herbivores shouldn't feel like they're saving the world through their food choices. It's not good enough to hide out and have meals with other vegans. Talk to children, talk to schools, invite omnivores over for vegan dinners, question authority, stop preaching. "You're better off serving the seitan stew than preaching the gospel of animal rights."

Unlike many recent books on veganism and health, Lyman doesn't discuss the tragic conditions of factory farmed animals. "People either feel for animals or they don't; while I believe they ought not be shielded from seeing what a slaughterhouse looks like, and the conditions in which their 'food' animals exist, I also think it serves no purpose to browbeat them over animal rights. If you must browbeat them, do so about their health."

Luckily, there are many voices out there describing slaughterhouse conditions. I'd personally eat white rice and cauliflower for every meal if it meant helping to prevent animals from experiencing such suffering. To me, health reasons pale in comparison to animal rights issues in my own personal vegan path. Lyman trusts that the average person is much more focused on their health, and he's left the environment, disease and political manipulation outside his scope.

Half of the 200-page No More Bull is recipes - great recipes from the likes of Neal Barnard, T. Colin Campbell and Frances Moore Lappe', among many others. I enjoyed Bryanna Grogan's Vegetarian "Meat Loaf" and Joanna Samorow-Merzer's Stuffed Eggplant, but the main event of this book isn't the star-studded recipe section. The highlight is Howard's convincing words.

He has seen the insanity of the meat and dairy industries first-hand. As a fourth-generation dairy farmer and cattle rancher, he's one of environmentalists' greatest resources in terms of exposing the truth of chemical fertilizer use, health side-effects of meat and dairy consumption, and the political nightmare we've become caught in like quick sand. In the genre of bold, inspirational books about veganism, Lyman's voice can't be ignored.

John Robbins' review of No More Bull encourages, "If you read this book, several things will happen. There will be more health in your life. There will be more joy in your life." Indeed, in today's sad, troubled world we could all use Lyman's humorous, honest, unapologetic words. --Caity McCardell

Vegan Dynamite
Thanks, Howard. You did it again. I gave this book 5 stars, but that's the average of 6 and 4. I give the actual written part of the book 6 stars and the recipe section 4. I own Mad Cowboy and expected this to be a bit of a rehash. To my pleasant surprise, "No More Bull!" is up-to-date, eminently readable and a hard book to put down. Howard writes like he's a trusted, old friend sitting on the front porch on a summer's evening. But don't be fooled, this man is no dummy. He's in the unique position of having been on the other side of the fence, too. He knows exactly what he's talking about. His research is impeccable and his novel and savvy way of interpreting the facts will have you wondering why others can't see these obvious truths. This is a subject near and dear to Mr. Lyman's heart, but he and his writing associate could make a book on composting a spellbinder. If you're a pots-and-pans alchemist, you'll enjoy the recipe section. Howard has enlisted contributions from some of the heaviest hitters in the vegan culinary world. I didn't find the recipe section too enthralling since I invent my own, admittedly simple, vegan creations. One of these days I'll tackle one of those recipes, but for now I'm going to re-read this excellent book. It's well-written and, in spite of the gravity of the subject material, contains some hearty, unexpected belly-laughs.

The Mad Cowboy Rides Again
Why are thinking about buying this book? Maybe you question if your diet is good for you. Maybe you don't really trust the officials when they say that there is nothing to worry about in regards to "Mad Cow Disease." Maybe the "avian flu" has made you wonder why do the chickens hate us so much? Is it because they hate our freedom? Obviously you are not indoctrinated enough. You must not have spent enough time when you were a child coloring happy farm animals. Or maybe you were daydreaming through the 8 million times your teacher told you that "Milk builds strong bones" or "meat will make you grow big and strong." You probably channel surf during commercials so you have missed most of the billions of dollars that the meat and dairy industries spend every year to tell you that their products are necessary.

Regardless of how it happened, you have a nagging doubt about whether it really is healthy to consume half your calories from dairy products and another twenty percent from meat. Maybe you might cut down a little. But certainly not become a vegetarian, I mean what would you eat? What would your friends think? Besides, you know someone who knows someone who was a vegetarian for a couple weeks and didn't feel well. Nope, being a vegetarian might be a good idea for some other people, but you enjoy eating meat too much and would wither away to nothing without it. I completely agree with you, in fact I once was you. That is why I think you should buy this book (and if you like it try reading Lyman's other book Mad Cowboy: Plain Truth From the Cattle Rancher who Won't Eat Meat).

Lyman is a great place to start. He is a funny, yet no-nonsense, down to earth kind of guy. What is more, he knows what he is talking about. A former rancher and dairy farmer who transformed his small family farm into a giant one. While turning himself into a giant as well (more than 300 lbs during his old meat eating days). But during a hospital stay after a major surgery he looked at what he had created and started to wonder if modern animal agriculture really was good for his farm or his health. Eyes opened, he started his journey and along the way discovered more and more wrong with industrial farming; from the treatment of animals to the strain on the environment. He became a vegetarian, then finally a vegan. In this book he will tell you why you probably should fear the meat that you are putting on your plate, how little the big meat and diary industries care about your well-being, how much influence those industries have over your government, and how easy it is, should you choose, to stop eating meat and dairy products. Plus there are lots of recipes.

[...] The idea of the Blood type diet is that Type O's are the dominant, hunter-caveman type that require meat in the diet, Type A's are docile vegetarians, while Type B's are dairy-eating omnivores. The first problem that I have with it is that it appears as though the most common blood type in China is (like in North America) Type O. So according to the Blood type diet that 40% of the Chinese population "needs" meat to be healthy. But research shows that (see the China Study by T. Colin Campbell) the Chinese seem to be much healthier on a mostly vegan diet. Those who have come to the west have added meat and dairy to their diets leading to much more prevalent western diseases like heart disease and cancer. Surely that goes for those who have type O blood and should have actually been much better off, not worse off health-wise from the change in diet.

Another issue is that Gorillas are almost always type B (on rare occasions type O) and I have yet to see a gorilla that was a "dairy-eating omnivore." Someone should tell those gorillas to put down the plants and search out a lactating cow like nature intended them to do, maybe with a proper diet they would take over the world (see the movie Planet of the Apes). Chimpanzee's are almost always type A (on rare occasions type O)While it is true that chimpanzees have been recorded consuming meat and hunting in groups, that only occurs on very rare occasions. It appears more likely that the original two blood types were A and B not, as that book states O. Original man, descended from the vegetarian great apes, was mainly a gatherer who would occasionally scavenge bits of meat from animals that were already dead. Sure at some point in time humans started hunting in groups and adding more meat to our diet, but new research ( See "Man the Hunted" by Hart and Sussman.) shows that it probably didn't occur until much later than we think. Nor is there any proof that there was any historical benefit that came from this increase in meat consumption except for during times of food scarcity. Through their research they have concluded that the idea of "man the hunter" is a myth (in their words "a public-relations coup!") And lets not forget that farm raised meat today is far different and a lot worse for you then wild meat.

In conclusion: Buy the book. Find out what it really is that you are actually eating. Decide if you need it. But don't resign yourself to a lifetime of eating cruelly raised, feces laden, nutrient-less meat no matter what your blood type.