The Lobster -- Why?

Thomas Fairfax, a well-known nineteenth century lobster smack captain, wrote convincingly that "lobsters are very good as an article of commerce, and pretty enough to look at, after they're boiled, but, as to eating them, I prefer castoff rubber shoes." George Hoag, a down-easterner, added that "if them tourists want to come up from Boston and pay those prices, then, by Christ, let them. Damn fools. Lobsters, hell, they're big cockroaches, that's what they are. You won't catch me eating one, even if I could afford the damn things." Fairfax and Hoag may be two of the most honest men in the history of American commerce. Lobsters are loathsome, both in appearance and as culinary articles. The meat is stringy tasteless gristle. And inaccessible to boot. And messy to attack. How did modern "sophisticates" get themselves bamboozled into thinking that these big bugs of the sea should be considered a gourmet item. It boggles the healthy, balanced, sensible mind. Lobsters are hideous insect-like creatures. Who was the first addled individual who took a look at a lobster and said, "looks good, I'll try it." Eeew.

Then there's the practice of immersing live lobsters in boiling water. Just remember to put your fingers in your ears while the poor creatures screech. Human beings degrade themselves morally and aesthetically when they lower themselves to such indifference. How can they torture a lobster and then pretend that the poor things are palatable. 

I've eaten a couple, may all the gods of the sea forgive me. Before I reached the age of enlightenment I would go along to get along. I never pretended to enjoy them, but, petty conformist that I was, I would participate in the horrid feast. Now I'd rather eat kale and tofu, tasteless trendy manifestations of liberal guilt, than violate my integrity with a severed claw or tail.

it's time for a moral revolution in America. Let's make a start by liberating the lobster.

Comments

[Chris Kyrle]

I second the motion. I've never eaten lobster in all my 76 years - a childhood prejudice that stuck.