I Still Like Lobster

Do you hear that? It's coming from the kitchen. It's almost like ... a scream. No, more like a whistle. A light banging on metal can be heard too. Follow the sound. It takes you to the kitchen. What is that? A pot sits upon a burning stove. The screaming gets louder. You approach the pot, and as the scream reaches unimaginable decibel levels, you dare to take off the lid. Inside a lobster thrashes about, boiling alive as it prepares to become someone's next meal. You sigh, calmly put the lid back on, and quietly walk back to your room. Your mom sees you with an odd look on your face, asking what's wrong. You reply, "Mom, you have no idea how hungry I am."

I understand that lobsters may be able to feel pain. I understand that it's not fair for lobsters to be killed inhumanely for our own consumption. I understand that lobsters are only one example of the diabolical and disgusting ways animals are "prepared" for human's nourishment. I also understand that I like lobster. A lot. Almost to the point where reading David Foster Wallace's "Consider the Lobster" made me want to go to Red Lobster and order the Sea Admirals Feast. You may say I have no sympathy for these lobsters, but I do. Reading about the alternative ways to kill a lobster left me with disgust in the way lobsters are commonly murdered. If there is a quick and easy way to kill a lobster, why not do it that way? In this regard, I do agree with all the PETA people and its following. But that's where I stop. No matter how bad it might seem, my well-being comes first. As selfish and self-centered that is, reassess your own life quickly. Whenever you think about any situation, who do you think about first most of the time? Yourself. It's human nature. So while poor Sebastian may be spending his last days in a boiling hell, I'll still eat him. After all, eating seafood is just Part of My World.