Maine Luau Seafood & Bar-B-Q

Based on sketchy intelligence reports, we believe we are dealing with the following subjects:

• A lobster sitting on a trap, firing an arrow at an apple and a cow.

• A drunk chicken in a grass skirt.

• Three clams, possibly with knives embedded in their heads.

• A belligerent pig perching in fire.

So far, sure, this is all just another day at the office. (And the scene is remarkably similar to this vision of cheerful bedlam.)

Where things get a little strange is that this surveillance photo is from a U.S. government archive!

Are we witnessing "enhanced interrogation tactics"? Are these crazed "food" animals ours or Charlie's? (Or whatever we call the collective enemy these days.)

What was the image doing in the files of the (not actually) nefarious National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration? (Which it was.) Could it have something to do with top-secret global warming research? A military-agrindustrial plot to destroy foreign nations from within, by infecting animals with suicidal impulses?

Well, no, it couldn't be that. American animals have been obsessed with death for decades and we're still going strong. Unless you consider our devastated econom—

Oh my god!

The Lobster Pot

You are forgiven if, like us, you first misread the ribbon running through the lobster's head (?) as "Scott / Cyanide." Cyanide poisoning would have offered a convenient explanation for this poor crustacean's demeanor. (WebMD offers confusion and bizarre behavior as symptoms of cyanide poisoning. Other sources mention giddiness. And finally, let us not forget the cyanide victm's "unusually pink or cherry-red" skin!) But enough! This lobster, though giddy and behaving bizarrely—not only boiling himself alive, but doing so in a pot of smiling lozenges?—is suffering from that malady so familiar among "food" animals. This is that same suicidal ideation we have tirelessly catalogued these past 14 weeks. Assuredly, our potted lobster here demonstrates a florid case of it, but we may in good conscience leave aside our suspicions of murder-by-poison.

Our lobster, defined as he is by his final resting place, is emblematic of this particular perversion. But even after so many posts detailing the many manifestations of the disorder, it continues to baffle and depress. It is understandable that the dead animal connoisseur might prefer his pangs assuaged, but can't the soon-to-be-poached-and-consumed creatures simply be left alone, to die in peace? Must they be paraded through the dining room in full, death-defying chipperness, assuring one and all that the pleasure is all theirs?

Speaking of parades, here is a merry little pageant of suicidal animals, all drawn from the same web site that features the Cyanide (sic) Lobster:









Taken in turn, we have

1. A chorus line of skinned shrimp, happy to perform a delightful little number before leaping into your mouth,
2. A bowl of coy clams, each with a smile on its "face,"
3. Two lobster chums, friends to the end, and
4. A final lobster bidding the world a spirited cheerio from his two-handled grave.