This week I met a woman intent on becoming a meal. In her will, Ingrid Newkirk has directed that her flesh be processed into Newkirk Nuggets, which she intends to have grilled on a barbecue. In addition, her skin is to be made into wallets, and her amputated feet into umbrella stands - although Newkirk, a slim woman in her mid-fifties, admits that they will only fit small umbrellas.
For anyone familiar with Newkirk, and her organisation People for the Ethical Treatment of Animals (Peta), this outrageous bequest is a typically grisly stunt. For more than 20 years, Newkirk has orchestrated horrifying images of skinned foxes, dead pigs and other unhappy animals with impressive success across the globe. Peta raises more than $15m a year, and has more than half a million members. The New Yorker calls it "by far the most successful radical organisation in America".
We are shooting a profile of Newkirk for BBC4, and have been invited to her HQ in Norfolk, Virginia. In the morning, there's a meeting to discuss Peta's campaigning during next year's presidential bun fights. The boardroom walls display the happy faces of endorsing celebrities alongside some pretty gruesome images. It's not very pleasant stuff, although the staff exude a cheeriness redolent of a Christian summer camp.
They are at least 20 years younger than Newkirk, all fashionably dressed and trenchantly vegan. A human carrot in bright orange felt walks in, announcing itself as "Chris P Carrot". This punning vegetable, explains Newkirk, is Peta's campaign mascot. He will have button-badges in true pres-style, "and might be accompanied by a baby carrot so that candidates can kiss a baby", says Newkirk. Everyone laughs. "Let's turn the White House green!" Newkirk looks at her team. "We'll have Chris P during the day," she says. "Then in the night, when people are queueing for the bars, we'll bring on Meet Your Meat. You wanna see Meet Your Meat?" Newkirk presses an intercom button. "Bring in the body screen," she commands grimly.
A young woman strapped into a DVD machine arrives. There is a flat screen across her chest. Alec Baldwin provides the voice-over as the screen illuminates with undercover footage apparently shot in American factory farms. This is meat you really don't want to meet. Ever. Chickens, cheeping piteously, hurled across barns. Broken-backed turkeys, being stamped on. Cows, bellowing in pain, suffering facial branding. Pigs - I suspect the pigs get it the worst, but I couldn't manage it.
It's clever - get them laughing, then hit them with Meet Your Meat. Newkirk knows people will turn away if faced with harrowing imagery from the off, and has therefore devised this sugared weapon. She is a self-admitted "media slut". Her campaigns include likeable celebs such as Chrissie Hynde, alongside slogans such as "I'd rather go naked than wear fur". One member of staff has even legally changed her name to GoVeg Dotcom.
Eventually it's time to feed the strays outside. At this point, Newkirk could simply be a batty lady feeding her moggies. And in a way, her aim is batty. Turn the world vegan? When people smell her sizzling flesh, they'll be converted. She hopes.
Rosie Millard is the BBC's arts correspondent
