Feb 7, 2005

Ignorance in a can

...Complete with an easy-open lid.

I happened to catch a glimpse of a clip on "America's Funniest Home Videos" early last night, featuring a live lobster being deposited into a pot of boiling water. I nearly gagged. I could never bring myself to do such a thing to any animal, be it from the land or the sea. What a horrible image to even run through my mind. I wonder what goes through people's heads when they open a can of SPAM and fry it up... apparently, not much at all, because if they thought too much about how spam is made, they probably wouldn't be able to shove it in their mouths without retching. It's just the leftover parts of animal carcasses, is all: intestines, eyeballs, noses, feet ... all thoroughly ground up and stuffed into a tidy little can for human consumption. It appears safe, because you just can't visually recognise any prominent evidence of whatever miscellaneous organs and appendages went into your particular can. Usually. It also most likely tastes no better nor offers any greater nutritional value than canned cat food probably does, but how many people are going to try canned cat food? Just close your minds and eat it. There you go... SPAM tastes so good, it may as well have been God's divine creation that fell right out of his perfectly sanitised holy lap. Only what you choose to believe has to matter, right? As long as that is what you choose to believe. If enough people assure me crab grass tastes delicious I'll probably love it too. Of course, I would sooner eat a fistful of twigs than a cheeseburger.

Speaking of holy laps (or not), I never forgot about my photography journal. I posted in it a few times this morning, and intend on doing so much more often from this day forth.

I've been obsessed with "Things Can Only Get Better" by Howard Jones. I grew up with Howard's music, after all. The song can pull me out of a glum mood more effectively than most others. Perhaps it's all the nostalgia and fine memories associated with it. Certainly, the lyrics are uplifting. I really must dow- err, obtain his greatest hits album. Simply, I'm enamored of that new wave sound. Many may dismiss it as being retro-hip 80's cheese that should have died out with disco, but I beg to differ. It's great music. Depeche Mode, New Order, A Flock of Seagulls, Ice House, Peter Gabriel, Tears for Fears, The Human League, B-52's, Talking Heads, Falco, INXS, Numan, The Police... I could go on, but that would be awfully self-indulgent of me.

I go sleep now.

2 comments:

k said...

Is this to say you've joined the likes of us non-creature-consumers? Or do just keep it to a more natural form of prey? I can't see the wolf without at least a scrap or two of meat in his paws...

It nearly baffles me what people learn to consider normal.. today my housemate commented on the tofu I added to my spaghetti. You know, the usual, "man, that stuff has no taste and all the wrong texture." Okay, I'll give him that he probably had a bad tofu experience, but if you prepare the stuff right it'll taste like whatever you cook it in. I don't eat it because I'm some huge new-age hippy tofu-lover; I just need the protein. And hey, at least I know exactly where it came from [oh How It's Made] and the taste reflects that. It's mushed up soybean. What do you expect from it, honestly?

How many times have I watched him cook up any bizarre variety of mystery meat, leave his grease-covered dishes in the sink to rot, or not have the courtesy to at least -wipe off- the cutting board after he slices meat on it (to be fair, I'm pretty sure the blame for that one lies with another housemate)? If I've ever made a comment on the level of grossness, it's been entirely lost to him.

I can't digest meat, so I eat vegetables and soy. Why is there such an odd stigma attached to that, while people are eating SPAM like candy?

::Blurred Visions of Utopia:: said...

Your photographs are beautiful. Sometimes, it's hard to believe that a place that beautiful exists.

I wanted to let you know that Hayley is okay. I had an opportunity to talk to her last night. She's handling her life as best as she can. Her mother is mourning more for her aunt than she. Hayley figures that she hasn't finished grieving for her grandmother. Her place of employment has helped her since everyone there is nice and it's a pleasant work environment. She says that's she has been very busy and I assume that is the reason why she hasn't had much of a chance to stay in contact. If you are ever interested, we are gonig to try to commit talking Saturday nights, though I think it'll end up being a lot tougher to do.

Of course, you know that she'd love to hear from you.

I've been very lukcy this weekend. In a span of 12 hours, I've had some contact with some of my closest friends. Thank you:)