Monday, May 08, 2006

Thai-ing It All Together

Today whilst lunching at a hole-in-the-wall Thai place which is my favorite in town (sometimes i get dyslexic and wanna say "wall-in-the-hole", which wouldn't make much sense, unless you deem it a Freudian slip,) i observed a fly trying to get it on with another. The target was uninterested - she kept wiggling him off and gliding away. After a couple of attempts, he gives up and leaves her alone.

There are 3 things to be said here:

1) Ain't it grand that, in the insect world, gender roles are so simplistic, there needs not be room for interpretation, nor revolution?

2) I wanted to yell out to the guy fly, "Rejection and unrequited love! Aww... I feel your pain, man!" (Hey, at least this act would be one step up from talking to inanimate objects.)

3) The male fly has enough sensibility and self-esteem to quit after two failures. I could learn a thing or two from him.

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I came upon an unidentifiable shellfish. It reminded me of a delicious type my Mom and i had a couple of times while traveling in China. Some Mainland restaurants are set up differently than what i'm used to. I remember finally getting seated, exhausted and starving, only to have to walk down two flights of stairs again with my Mom to pick out our seafood from the tanks - a process that i do not find very efficient. My Mom tried to explain that the Chinese like their food fresh. And they like to know what exactly they're getting.

There's something else wrong with that selection ritual to me. From a Buddhist point of view (even though i'm not one and i'm not going vegetarian any time soon,) it's bad enough to cause a living organism to die. I'm not comfortable with being the direct cause of death for one particular life. Let the kitchen pick. Let them ride the wheel of samsara with all that blood on their hands.

Perhaps i can just make like certain Native American tribes who apologize to a fellow creature before turning it into dinner. But that can't be sufficient either. Think about this: You're turning the l'il critter into poop, basically. No apology will do! This explains the historical practice of a victor cannibalizing on his enemies. Can you think of a greater insult?

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