My Consideration of the Lobster

Having been assigned a copy of David Foster Wallace's Consider the Lobster, an expository (though not originally meant to be) essay on the ethics of boiling alive, slow boiling, lobotomizing, etc., live lobsters for human consumption, I find myself rather enthralled by the lobster industry.
The essay was published in 2004, shortly before the author's untimely suicide in late 2008, in an issue of the now dead Gourmet magazine. Wallace was commissioned by Gourmet to pay a visit to the world-famous Maine Lobster Festival, an almost appalling display of human gluttony at which, according to Wallace, more than 25,000 pounds of lobster is consumed.
Markedly, Wallace goes on, to summarize a ten-page essay, and explains, without taking a particular stand (a feat on its own), the masking of the festival's horrors by its marketers. He illustrates that while the baseline lobster meal served at the festival costs $12, it's served on a styrofoam tray with plastic silverware and styrofoam cups; too few napkins are given out, especially when the too-close eating quarters and ratio of children to food are considered. Most incredibly, however, I noted Wallace's ability to describe the process of cooking and eating a lobster without sugar-coating. He makes no effort to make the lobster seem cute, desirable, healthy, or even very tasty. He points out the historical significance of lobster as a food given only to peasants before around the 1800s, canned in the east and shipped to the west in the 1840s, and even of lobsters ground up and used for fertilizer by the pilgrims.

There is one passage, however, of particular interest to me:
"...Here is a question that's all but avoidable at the World's Largest Lobster Cooker, and may arise in kitchens across the U.S.: Is it all right to boil a sentient creature alive just for our gustatory pleasure? A related set of concerns: Is the previous question irksomely PC or sentimental? What does "all right" even mean in this context? It is all just a matter of individual choice?"

While I do think, after having read this essay, that the choice to consume lobster is indeed a deeply personal one, I cannot for the life of me justify throwing a live creature into a boiling vat of water and walking away while it attempts to claw its way out, thrashing and banging against the pot. Wallace cites in his article that it takes anywhere from 35 to 45 seconds for the lobster to die in such a way.

Imagine. Being thrown into a pot of scalding water, left there to struggle in agony for 45 seconds. Whether you're self-aware or not, it's a painful experience.

I couldn't help but compare in my mind this World's Largest Lobster Cooker to a hypothetical World's Largest Open Slaughter House Floor. I was pleased, as I read on in Wallace's essay, to find that he, too, had thought of this: The cooker can boil more than 100 live lobsters. Imagine, let's say, just 50 cows being slaughtered and cooked in the open like that. Or 50 pigs. Or deer. Or any other meat-bearing animal we consume. It just wouldn't happen.

But why is it, I wonder, that we don't call these other animals' meats by the same name as the animal? Cow. Pig. Deer. Beef. Pork. Venison. Do we do this, mainly with pork and beef, which are more highly restricted in the ways of killing and preparation than venison, to distance ourselves from the reality of the deaths of these creatures? Is it because we raise them ourselves? If that is the case, then what of chickens? Or is it because we look into their eyes the moment before we cut their throats, and we see some semblance of a cry for help, a silent, "Please?" As Wallace says in his footnotes on this issue, "...we eat these latter meats without having to consider that they were once conscious, sentient creatures to whom horrible things were done."
On the other hand, we refer to beings we don't deem as "higher" the same way we refer to their meat: chicken, fish, and most relevantly, lobster.

Wallace, though, determines in his essay that lobsters, to sum it up, DO have pain receptors, DO show a primitive form of preference (to water temperature, light, etc.), and DO try to avoid unpleasant stimuli.

Now, I'm no PETA member or animal rights activist, because, honestly, I feel those types of people take things a little too far. While it is possible to suffice on vegetation and fruit, I don't find it personally pleasurable. However, I do take steps when possible (I do still live at home with my folks, after all) to be considerate to my animalian counterparts. My family purchases cage free organic eggs, organic-raised beef and pork, and meat without steroids or hormones. On the same note, we also support local dairy and vegetable/fruit farmers when possible. I believe these practices come from the influence upon my dad of the Inupiaq natives of the north (the farthest north, actually). These are a people who are highly conservative, incredibly graceful, strikingly resilient, and remarkably intelligent. They are also a grateful people, one of the only to have continued the practice of whaling to the present, who make use of every part of every animal they kill.

Evidenced in these people is something the heads of the MLF (and other meat eaters, not just eaters of lobster) forget-a respect for nature. There is a certain grace in raising an animal in a natural environment, where the animal is happy and relaxed, then butchering it in a humane way (for example, the way it is done in some European slaughterhouses-usually those that are family owned-by stunning the animal with a large amount of electricity to knock the animal unconscious before rendering it dead). But people of native status tend to take that a step even farther by thanking the animal itself in a prayer said before the final killing blow is delivered.

There may be something to be said about the method of lobster killing in which one (rather brutally) stabs the lobster in the head with a large knife, effectively where its "third eye" would be, though according to Wallace, this does not sever the ties with the nervous system that allow the lobster to feel pain. Quite simply, however, I feel there is nothing to be said about eating an ancient, bottom-feeding crustacean. I personally do not consume Caribbean or reef fish because many contain neurotoxins that can lead to many horrible diseases, including ciguatera, which can cause confusion in the senses of hot and cold, ataxia, hallucinations, and paresthesia. Being a native of Erie, Pennsylvania, a fishing port, I was also raised to avoid bottom-feeders for obvious reasons, and into this category falls the lobster. Whether one eats lobster are not, there are a few things one cannot deny: One lobster grants one human approximately one meal, making the killing of the creature seem like vanity. The lobster is effectively an ancient insect, which in itself is disgusting. And one can never be sure where that creature has been or what it has eaten.

As Wallace concludes, he poses a few more questions:
"Given the (possible) moral status and (very possible) physical suffering of the animals involved, what ethical convictions to gourmets evolve that allow them not just to eat, but to savor and enjoy flesh-based viands...? And for those gourmets who'll have no truck with conviction or rationales and who regard [this article] as just so much navel-gazing, what makes it feel okay, inside, to dismiss the whole issue out of hand? That is, is their refusal to think about any of this the product of actual thought, or it is just that they don't want to think about it? Do they ever think about their reluctance to think about it? After all, isn't being extra and aware and attentive and thoughtful about one's food and its overall context part of what distinguishes a real gourmet? Or is all the gourmet's extra attention and sensibility just supposed to be aesthetic, gustatory?"

The necessity for meat consumption is debatable as alternative protein sources and methods of preparation arise, but there is nothing debatable in the fact that the omnivore does not consider on a regular basis, gourmet or not, where his or her food originated and whether or not it suffered. Nor does the gourmet care. The gourmet lifestyle is one built on luxury and lust, the selfish and the posh. The reluctance to consider this is no more a topic of debate than that. What was once called "gourmet," distinguished by the so-called awareness and attentiveness and thoughtfulness towards one's food, has now become nothing more than a game of the palate. And the gourmet's extra attention and "sensibility" is indeed only aesthetic and gustatory now. Perhaps I sound very harsh in saying so, and I should clarify that this point of view is meant to refer to those who eat and do not think. Those who raise and butcher their own livestock under free-roaming, cage-free conditions are gracefully exempt.

The connections within this battle of aesthetic/gustatory vs. morale, however, are, as Wallace states, highly abstract and subjective. But he is afraid in his writing as I am not. He ventures that to pose such question treads too-deep waters and explores places not meant for public discussion. But I find in myself a deeper voice that says that it is our duty on this earth to respect what we've been given (or scientifically granted, against all odds of the universe, if that's your thing) and to treat it as such, from the lowliest lobster to the greediest gourmet.

"You know that song, 'If a body catch a body comin' through the rye'?..."

"What I was really hanging around for, I was trying to feel some kind of a good-by. I mean I've left schools and places I didn't even know I was leaving them. I hate that. I don't care if it's a sad good-by or a bad good-by, but when I leave a place I like to know I'm leaving it. If you don't, you feel even worse. "

This weekend, the world says goodbye to one of the most instrumental artists of all time: The great JD Salinger. I say "artist" instead of "author" because of the pure literary genius he possessed. Born in 1919, Salinger began writing stories when his father, with whom he had a strained relationship, sent him to a military academy in Valley Forge, Pennsylvania, after he dropped out of McBurney private school on Manhattan's Upper West Side. In World War II, Salinger eagerly joined the military, wherein he experienced the horrors of the holocaust and experienced a period of convalescence. When The Catcher in the Rye was published in 1951, some speculated that it was this proverbial mental breakdown that Salinger had documented in the form of a 48-hour time period in the life of Holden Caulfield. The book became wildly popular with teens, college students, and even (though sadly) murderers. But despite the controversial backlash Salinger experienced because of his work, Catcher still remains an exquisite American classic.

After the publication of Catcher, Salinger retreated into solitude, publishing only three more books, but his family now states that 15 or more Salinger manuscripts exist.

In The Catcher in the Rye, Salinger penned, all those years ago:

"Boy, when you're dead, they really fix you up. I hope to hell when I do die somebody has sense enough to just dump me in the river or something. Anything except sticking me in a goddam cemetery. People coming and putting a bunch of flowers on your stomach on Sunday, and all that crap. Who wants flowers when you're dead? Nobody."

In this statement, Salinger's entire "phony" construction is broken down into just what he desires: to be missed dearly. And I can promise he certainly will be.

"Christians": Three Cheers for Destroying the Gay Community

Maybe the title of this entry is a little misleading, so let me quickly clarify what I'm about to rant about: There is a social issue sweeping America lately, and while I'd like to say it's new, it's completely the opposite. This issue is one that emerged long ago, in a time where it was less accepted than being black, and now, in this new decade, it is being declared as "the new black." To what do I refer? Homosexuality.
And I don't just refer to actually being homosexual, but also to the inherent hot-button debates therein, mainly that referring to gay marriage. By dictionary definition, yes, marriage is a sanctimonious union between man and woman, but there are also several secondary definitions, citing examples such as the marriage between harmony and melody, the marriage of two companies, or the marriage of several perfect flavors to make one exquisite dish. None of these are protested, where clearly there is no gender involvement, and yet, gay marriage is still protested in many states.
Most who protest gay marriage claim to be of "Christian" faith, citing Leviticus 18:22, which states (in the KJV), "Thou shalt not lie with mankind, as with womankind: it is abomination." In the Living Bible that translates to: "Homosexuality is absolutely forbidden, for it is an enormous sin." And let me not forget the New Living translation: "Do not practice homosexuality; it is a detestable sin." True, these are statements of the bible, and as a Christian myself, I know them well. But what these gay-bashing "Christians" refuse to acknowledge is a more important passage of the good book, which comes (get this) barely a chapter after "Thou shalt not lie with mankind." Leviticus 19:18 states, "Thou shalt not avenge, nor bear any grudge against the children of thy people, but thou shalt love thy neighbour as thyself: I am the LORD." Also, Matthew 19:18 says, "Thou shalt love thy neighbour as thyself." And Matthew 7:1 states, "Judge not that ye be not judged."
So which arises as the most important legislation from the position of a student of the bible and a follower of the word? The phrase "hate the sin, but love the sinner" comes to mind, which, as few realize, has little grounding in scripture. In my personal findings, it has arisen in my thoughts that "hate the sin, but love the sinner", having no grounding in scripture, is but perhaps dark propaganda used to distract the faithful from truly loving the sinner. We concentrate so much on hating the sin when we hear this phrase, that we negate the "love the sinner" part. Even those "Christians" who apply the phrase miss this point. And this is precisely how the closed-minded "Christian" succeeds in destroying the souls of the homosexual.
I heard one particularly powerful example the other day, on a daytime talk show: A young gay man had suffered a lifetime of gay-bashing, to the extent that even his father had beaten him severely from a very young age, using the bible as his excuse. His parents refused to help him pay for prom in high school because he didn't want to go with a woman. People on the street called him a faggot, threw garbage at him, and claimed that he should "stop being gay" and that gay is a "choice." But gay is no more a choice than being black or being a dwarf or contracting a deadly disease. When a human being is gay, it is because of internal machinations that the individual cannot control. Thoughts and emotions drive this orientation, just as thoughts and emotions drive the heterosexually motivated. What "Christians" are not seeing is that these people are just that: people.
The oppression of homosexuals, however, is not just a "Christian" issue. It is a civil rights issue. This country, as so many "Christians" claim, is a free land, where people are bestowed with rights and liberties. We claim to accept everyone regardless of race, sex, creed, gender preference, political affiliation, language, personal hygiene, or whether or not he or she saw American Idol last night. But that is a farce. Before Martin Luther King Junior, blacks were oppressed. Before the Declaration of Sentiments and the Suffragettes, women were oppressed. During World War II, the world, including us, turned a blind eye to the persecution and mass extermination of the Jews in Europe. And now, gays are persecuted, beaten, relentlessly tortured, and even murdered for just being who they are. These "Christians" are so wrapped in their Old Testament ideas, they forget to do what Jesus himself commanded them to do: love thy neighbor.
Love, above all else, was the message Jesus tried to convey to mankind, and we're missing it. It doesn't matter if the gays are sinning in what they do. They aren't harming anyone with it. Gay isn't an epidemic. It's not an underground terrorist operation. It's not a plague. Gay people are making other gay people happy. They are loving each other the way Jesus commanded, and we should do the same, rather than spending all our time and energy hating something we should be loving, because we're distracting ourselves from the true message of God. Gentleness, faithfulness, grace...these are the traits a true Christian should exude, not hate and anger. It is because of these people that Christianity has gotten such a bad rap lately, and it saddens me that because they have put up this wall for the rest of us, people who don't know Jesus will never be willing to take the chance.
I have found that the people who concentrate the most on destroying the lives and belief systems of others are those who are the most insecure in their own settings. Those "Christians," those sinners, dare to throw stones at the gay community, when they themselves are being found guilty of adultery, theft, lying, murder, the list goes on and on. But what my point culminates to is illustrated beautifully by one of the most beautiful quotes I've ever read:

"There is only one sin, only one. And that is theft. Every other sin is a variation of theft... When you kill a man, you steal a life. You steal his wife's right to a husband, rob his children of a father. When you tell a lie, you steal someone's right to the truth. When you cheat, you steal the right to fairness. " -The Kite Runner

To expand on this quote, when you oppress a people, you steal the right to living. You steal the right to security. You steal the right to confidence, to comfort, to relaxation, to family and friends, to laughter, to light, and even to faith itself. The greatest forgivable sin is indeed theft, which is the sin that these "Christians" are committing by oppressing the gays. But even that sin is forgivable, just as is homosexuality. But he who denounces the teachings of Jesus, he who denies the truth and refuses the Holy Spirit, he who wrongs and oppresses ceaselessly...may not be so lucky.

Catching Up

Well. Things have been interesting since I last blogged, way back in October or something. Boyfriend's mom became a reader, insisting to know why I referred to him as my "fiancee" the last time I wrote, which kind of startled me a little, and put me off the blogging trail. I've also been very, very busy.

But busy is an excuse no more!

So, let's catch up a little:

Since my last blog, things have gone as follows, by month-
October: I had the opportunity to see Demonologist John Zaffis speak at school, which was a bit of a high because I'm kind of a nerd for that paranormal stuff. What made it even better is that about a month later, the Ghost Adventures (a show I never miss) guys featured him in an episode (for further information on Ghost Adventures or John Zaffis, visit http://www.travelchannel.com/TV_Shows/Ghost_Adventures or http://www.johnzaffis.com/). His performance wasn't exactly the terrifying thing I'd been hoping for, but it was interesting if nothing else.
I took out my first official personal loan (student loans don't count) and bought my first car from a dealership. It's a 2000 Dodge Neon, a 5-speed, which I also had to learn to drive. After much frustration and a little crying, I can honestly say that now, three months later, I can drive it very successfully. It's a lot more reliable than my past cars, at least.
I also traveled to Erie to visit with my family and trick-or-treat with my cousins, which may have been my last year for such Halloween merriment; one of my cousins betrayed my young countenance by telling every person who answered a door, "Know how old she is? She's 18!!" The photos can be found on my facebook, if you're a friend of mine.

November: Nothing of particular interest that I can recall took place in November, except that we had a comparatively quiet thanksgiving at a relative's house. The weather proceeded to become excruciatingly cold, and I'm learning the value of heavy coats and not-so-glamorous-but-very-warm boots. I also began reading Anne Rice's Queen of the Damned for the hundredth time. For readers, Anne Rice never fails to thrill. I highly recommend her books.

December: As the semester drew to an end, I found myself working hard and studying harder. I must have written 40 papers by this time. Finals went well for me (I scored a 3.6 GPA), but not so much for my friends, most of whom managed to land themselves on academic probation. It's a bit of a disappointment, which leads me now to think I should find some friends who are more positively influential. We had a quiet Christmas at home (Chase visited again, which was absolutely wonderful-I took him to a local tavern for dinner, which we both enjoyed, and we made cookies together.). I finished reading Queen of the Damned and read The Fox Woman by Kij Johnson in about three days, it was so wonderful. Click here for an excerpt from the novel; I promise it won't disappoint. I also had my first vehicular collision-I backed into an elderly tailor's car in the parking lot of a mini-mall, but fortunately, I only scraped mud off of his bumper. He laughed it off, saying he should pay me for my services, which made me feel much better about my idiocy.

January: Here we are. For New Year's, my family drove to downtown Johnstown for the fireworks they were supposedly showing. We had a snowball fight on top of a deserted parking garage, and watched the lame show through a dense cloud of winter fog. Then we went home and ate pizza. Oh, what a night.

So now I sit, ten days from my nineteenth birthday, ready to get back into the flow of things, now that my life isn't being taken over by multitudes of unimportant things. I promise, my next entry will be more thoughtful. In the meantime, check out the books I recommended, and finish sending all those thank you cards from the holidays.