Sometimes the rational thing to do can be a distasteful thing to do. A couple examples come to mind:
> Encouraging a protesting child to leave a security blanket behind.
> Euthanizing an ailing, elderly pet.
If we always 'followed our heart' and ignored what sober reasoning informs us is the right thing to do . . . our life might be easier, emotionally, in the short term. But in the long? And what about the lives of others? Don't we sometimes need to shoulder a distasteful load to make the lives of others better?
I got to thinking about his subject over the weekend, when taking a sharp knife to a fish just pulled from the water. The fish certainly didn't like that jolt of pain (judging by it's brief struggle). But then it was dead and went into the ice-filled cooler. Sure, I could have circumvented the blood and personal experience of killing another creature by just letting it die on its own time, so to speak. But that, I imagine, is less compassionate than what I've taken to doing with the fish I catch and plan on eating.
Yes, I am a carnivore. But I believe I am at least somewhat ethical in my flesh-eating. For one, I will and do honestly confront the pain and blood that is a consequence of how I feed myself and my family. For another -- at least when it comes to fishing -- I fish waters that have minimal "fishing pressure." Meaning I go where the fish populations are healthy. And I take only enough for a good meal or two.
This weekend my fishing partner and I brought home 4 fish. We had caught more fish, but didn't keep them. Not the right size and/or species.
Slow-baked over turnip greens and yellow squash, and served with lemon-pepper butter -- my, they were good. Actually, my 3-person household only finished two. No need to be gluttonous. The other two fish we'll enjoy later this week. As part of a balanced diet.
Of course I realize that returning the the vegetarian diet I once adhered to (in my early 20s, when else?) would eliminate some death and suffering that comes because of my dietary choices, directly or indirectly. But would that impetus come from my heart or my head? I wonder.
In the meantime, I'll enjoy what I consider to be a philosophically tenable and personally fulfilling diet.
One of these things is not like the others (yes, I am a child of the Sesame Street Era) . . . and I don't think you need education to tell which one.
These fruit rats were frequent visitors to our compost pile. Were. We had recycled some stucco-covered cinder blocks from a house renovation project to build the repository for our kitchen scraps. Rats found it and moved into our adjacent dark shed. And multiplied. Then we gave our dogs easy access to the shed. And moved the compost pile. Problem solved.
The rats were darn cute when young. Now their bodies have become compost for weeds. In other words, they aren't in our pile for future garden use.
Those rats aren't alone in their fate. In terms of ultimate destination--if you catch my drift. But maybe you don't want to catch it. Either way, enjoy your day. And I sincerely mean that.
The other day I was driving a fairly busy road when a family of sandhill cranes leisurely crossed. I stopped and waited. As did other drivers. Had the family of birds been . . . oh, scarlet tanagers (6 inches in height vs. 3 ft.) . . . I doubt folks would have slowed. But then again, the tanagers would have taken flight almost immediately. Still, does our kind tend to be a "sizest" lot? Big animals, now THEY are important. More visible, sure. But were a person to hit and run over a larger bird I think they would be more disturbed that if it were a smaller. I wonder why that is. Are we more able to anthropomorphize big birds? Hmm.
[photo: a sandhill crane couple feeding/resting in our side yard]
What variety of species are have you dined on lately? Yesterday I enjoyed T. militinae grains of grass in the form of pasta, prepared with linguini-like strips of Brassica oleracea (cabbage tossed into the same pot of boiling water) topped with a sauce sporting protein in the form grilled Sus domesticus, the magnificent pig. Delicious.
Next I ask, what species on 'the other side of the fork' has recently dined on you? Any mosquitoes (of which there are a whopping 80 species in Florida)? Tics? Of course, had a lion or some other large predator recently dined on you, you would not be reading a computer screen right now. On the other end of the spectrum, every inch of your body is at this moment veritable Petri dish for assorted bacteria and fungi.
In terms of dangerous predators, new research has found a correlation between phase of the moon and lion attacks on humans. In a title suggesting woo of the lunar variety, I learned --
The full moon indicates impending danger from lion attack, a University of Minnesota study shows
Wow! Funny thing, I've never seen the following: Pisces -- today is a bad day for walking on the African savannah at night.
Guess what, the moon isn't a sign of something about to happen, but rather a source of indirect light, which hurts the lion's ability to sneak up on prey. Thus, following the full-moon phase, lions are much more likely to engage in hunting behavior. They are more likely to be very hungry. When hungry they hunt and often succeed, whether that success involve the demise of a wildebeast or one of us.
And no, the lions don't attack humans to teach us about their violent nature.
[O]f nearly 500 lion attacks on Tanzanian villagers between 1988 and 2009. More than two-thirds of the attacks were fatal and victims were eaten.
Yes, the humans were eaten to a degree that was terminal. Every once in awhile one of us will simply come up on 'the wrong side of the fork.' And in that I find a huge insight about the meaning of existence.
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