In October 1994, Vermont's then-Gov. Howard Dean called reporters to the statehouse in Montpelier, Vt., so they could watch him angrily chug a glass of maple syrup. Dean had convened the press conference to denounce reports that trace amounts of lead were showing up in the state's best-known non-marijuana agricultural export. The physician and future presidential candidate said that fear-mongering over isolated incidents, which were probably due to the use of ancient lead pipes that collect sap from tapped trees, was endangering a beloved regional industry. Dean's action inspired me to go out and polish off a short stack of blueberry flapjacks, another sad step down the road to middle-aged paunchiness. To be sure, the gesture was completely worthless as science: Lead is a much greater threat to children than it is to purported adults such as Dean, and the governor only swallowed a single serving -- an amount more appropriate as a response to fears that Vermont's maple supply had been tainted by anthrax or strontium-90. The incident came back to me recently when Montpelier became the scene of yet another utterly loony syrup protest. This one was launched by members of People for the Ethical Treatment of Animals against Canadian maple syrup that, the group claims, will remain in effect until our neighbor to the north bans seal hunting. The dramatic high point of PETA's kickoff featured an activist dressed as a harp seal smashing a standup of a Canadian maple bottle with a hakapik, the cudgel favored by seal hunters. When struck, the syrup bottle oozed bright red fake blood -- a grave disappointment, no doubt, to anyone who showed up at the protest with a dry waffle. Those who don't understand Maple Syrup Protest Derangement Syndrome might well ask what Canada's syrup industry, a business that is cruel to no living thing except perhaps those with high cholesterol, has to do with seal hunting. Even PETA's own data shows that the nation's entire syrup industry pulls in less than $200 million annually, a sum that's barely enough to cover the production and marketing of your average summer blockbuster. Of course, Vermont's deer population might argue against the idea that what's good for the Green Mountain State's syrup industry is good for animals, but deer aren't nearly as cuddly as harp seals. Vermont is also famous for its salty-sweet cob-smoked bacon, the mere sense-memory of which is causing me to salivate as I type this. Logic has never been PETA's strong suit; the organization prefers attention-getting street theater to genuine policy initiatives. It's possible to fight seal hunting without resulting to waterheaded boycotts. Maine's International Fund for Animal Welfare, among other groups, has spent decades using research, lobbying and education to end the practice. It's time for right-thinking people to fight fire with fire. To hit PETA where it hurts, I'm calling for an immediate boycott of America's fake-blood industry, a business that PETA subsidizes through its members' regular practice of flinging the product at anyone wearing fur -- not to mention its construction, most recently, of an enormous bleeding syrup bottle. Stay tuned for details about my upcoming kickoff event. Without giving too much away, let's just say it will involve the biggest maple syrup bottle costume you've ever seen, and perhaps a few members of Canada's parliament. 