Fear not of man

Yesterday I was at home for the entire day trying to do some work (procrastination like usual) and found myself cycling through my usual procrastination sites (AP, TZ, Facebook, Youtube etc.). It wasn't until around 5/6 when my parents got home that I got up out of my desk and helped them to grab a few things. Seeing a wrapped up item in butchers paper, I asked my Mum what it was. She told me it was a Mud Crab and that got me kind of excited as I usually enjoy messing around with the poor bastards before they're killed to eat.

I remember my Uncle telling me about Mud Crabs when my parents still used to own the restaurant at 8 Mile Plains. He told me that when you turn the Mud Crabs upside down there's almost literally nothing they can do unless you stick your finger into their pincers (bloody idiot you are then). Next he showed me that the poor bastards enjoy getting patted on their underside and seem as if they're in some form of euphoria when you do so... until you start patting them there, which is when they go berserk.

So what happened after my parents got back was that I was fixing myself a meal (Ma Po Tofu and rice) and my step dad asked me for the kitchen shearers. I found them on the kitchen bench, handed them to him and went back to fixing up my meal. 20 seconds later when I put the spatula into the basin, I looked at the crab and there was the poor thing... WITH A PAIR OF SCISSORS SHOVED UP ITS ARSE. I asked my stepdad why he put the scissors there as opposed to just cutting it open straight away and he said that if you kill them too suddenly, some of their appendages may detach. Whereas if you kill them slowly, all the appendages stay intact. Needless to say, this roused my hippie/greeny side as I felt it was an unnecessarily cruel method of preparing the crab. Why do humans find it necessary to do what it takes to make themselves happy? Why do things that are "lesser" than us suffer so poorly?