N. and I are talking about magic shows.
“I wouldn’t mind going to a magic show,” I say. “But not the kind where the magician is chained to the bottom of an aquarium and has to escape. I don’t like that kind of magic show. I’d much rather see a show where the magician takes rabbits out of a hat. And then cooks them. A nice sauce, a garnish. He could use some herbs. . .”
Then I realize that it’s probably a cooking show that I need to watch.
It’s one of your most frightening posts. Reading “And then cooks them” was truly creepy.
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Oh, I can give you a worse story. 🙂 We were walking around the campus and saw a goose with a family of small baby geese following her. “Oh, how cute!” I exclaimed. “Aren’t the little geese ever so cute!” Then, after a pause: “I could make a lovely stew out of them.”
Also, I always considered having a rabbit as a pet. But I’m afraid that one day I’ll just eat him. And that feels kind of wrong.
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I had rabbit in Geneva. It was a pretty tough rabbit. But it tasted good. Never tried goose, though. Someday…
BTW, the idea of eating animals you see around doesn’t faze me. For people in these parts hunting is a way of life. One of my coworkers has a photo of her son with his first deer — as in, the first deer he killed. The kid was around four years old.
Mmm… venison…
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Since I eat meat – and a lot of it – I don’t see the reason to be coy and pretend that killing animals bothers me.
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A conservative literary critic and college professor
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