I CANnibalism
Do or Die, Where Did Fat Rick Get That Pie?
I wonder about cannibalism a lot. The why, when, and where to start eating a person. Specifically, where on the body and where in terms of geographical context. You don’t chomp down on a person because the corner store is out of Ritz Bitz. There are no casual cannibals. No cannibal just meanders through cannibalism like most of us wander through a career center. It seems like you know if you’re going to eat people.
And once you commit, that’s it. It’s not like after a night of heavy drinking, I blew my college roommate. I blow a dude, maybe I’m not gay, maybe I just let go of inhibitions or owed him a favor. But no one gets wasted on Jager and then eats his friend’s calf. If I blew some guy in college and told friends about it, they’d playfully tease me but if I ate a guy that one time on a mountaintop, lunches would be weird forever. I wouldn’t be teased; I’d be watched closely. Eating a person is like donating to Save the Children: you do it once, they never let you forget.
But I can’t discount desperation. Cannibalism is like seeing a terrible movie because there are no other options, and you really need to see a movie. You want a choice of movies but the only thing that’s playing is “The Noam Chomsky Story”, staring Vin Diesel. So, you figure, “What could go wrong? It’s freezing out here and I just need to survive the cold for a couple of hours before I can get rescued and watch Gremlins 2: The New Batch, a far superior movie.” So, no one sees a Vin Diesel movie because they want to; it’s all about doing your best to survive the cold; substituting one misery for another.
The closest I come to cannibalism is when I see a really cute baby or any dog, I want to bite them. I don’t want to eat either one, or even harm, just take an indulgent bite. Their adorableness makes me hungry. But, oddly, as much as I love steak, I’ve never been tempted to bite a cow. And I don’t think any of my friends look tasty. They all look like they taste like Bud Light and overdraft fees.
I like to think I could eat a human if I needed to. Like, if I was stranded on an icy mountain peak or stuck in line at IKEA. Salvation is way off in the distance and starvation is quickly approaching. Much like those incredible IKEA meatballs, it’s all about surviving until I can escape. But everyone in line at IKEA is all skinny and sinewy, it would be like surviving on beige licorice. And if I were to start cannibalizing all of the 29-year-old parents at IKEA, I’d make orphans out of so many little kids in Aviator sunglasses and Crocs. That’s good for the kids. If your 6-year-old is wearing Aviators and he’s not a pilot for Southwest or Tom Cruise, you’ve failed as a parent.
My issue about whether to eat another human being is, obviously, do I eat someone I love or someone I hate. If I eat someone I love, they’re a part of me now, they’ve given themselves to me for my survival, the most gracious, loving gift a loved one can bestow upon a companion. It’s a beautiful thing. The problem with that is, now I have fewer friends. Good, considerate friends are a rare commodity, especially if I eat one of them. I’d be reducing my social circle one bite at a time. Surviving a plane crash or a poorly planned hike up Everest is one thing but what if I need to move someday and I eat my best friend who has a truck?
If I were to eat a sworn enemy, however, it would mean I’m accepting help from the asshole who says “It is what it is”. That would be a real dilemma. I might even starve before I’d be able to make the decision. If it comes down to my own survival vs. being consistent in my own pettiness, I don’t know which way I’d go. Do I want to survive on this blistering mountaintop by eating a guy I can’t stand because he talks about his cats all the time or allow myself to freeze to death because I don’t want the help of someone who talks about his Goddamn cats all the time? But, if I eat someone I hate, maybe I win. I think it would be interesting to show Eric who’s boss by refusing to admit Mrs. Kittyface is adorable and then eating him.
And if I were to eat someone I passionately dislike, it seems like the polite thing to do would be to forgive them for all of the things I dislike about them. There must be cannibalism etiquette. I assume I’d have to let everything go before I dug into this stupid asshole who calls movies “films”. At this point I’d be really conflicted. Not only is this guy giving me permission to survive on his flesh but he also gets my forgiveness? Even when faced with a life or death situation that seems like a major decision. It’s not like I killed the guy because he sits down on the bus with his backpack on; that’s a justifiable homicide. No, in this case, he’s just dying and offering me my own life. So now he’s a shithead who purposely sets off car alarms on his loud motorcycle, and he’s also a martyr? Fuck that guy.
Here’s my experience in almost any social situation: I dislike at least a 5th of the people I’m hanging out with. If I were to go on a trip where being stranded might be possible there would be at least 1 person that I find disagreeable. If I’m hanging out with some buddies, at any given time, I’m mad at least 1 of those people. Would I cannibalize that guy in order to survive? It would largely depend on how many times he throws in French expressions just to sound smart.
Another issue with cannibalism is what body type to dine on. I’d need to decide whether to eat one of my fat friends or one of my more exercise-prone pals. Jordan can do a 14 minute crunch, has a chin-up bar in every doorway of his condo, and has .03% body fat. He’s thin and svelte; he’ll be dead before I even decide how to season him. Fat Rick is going to live for hours because of his insulation and unhealthy lifestyle. I need to eat; I don’t have time to listen to Jordan talk about how cutting out carbs changed his life and how he loves his new running shoes as I shiver to death. So, I’d probably lay him down in the snow so he could rest, like placing lean turkey slices in the freezer. Meanwhile, Fat Rick over there, eating a pie he somehow brought on this trip, is starting to look delicious.
Obviously, Fat Rick will provide me with more to eat. My fat friend would be like a pantry and my in-shape friend would be like a drawer of condiments. So, if I had to eat a pal, I’ll go with the guy that eats at Denny’s every day as opposed to the friend who has six gym memberships.
Ultimately, cannibalism is about practicality. The stress involved in deciding who to eat would be overwhelming. And stress can cause weight loss, which if I’m in a situation where cannibalism is the probable option, is the last thing I want. So, if I were freezing to death on an icy summit, deciding which friend or sworn foe to eat, I’d need to stay cool, calm and collected. I’d already be cool (freezing, actually), I would’ve calmed my nerves by encouraging Jordan to freeze to death, and then I’d just need to collect some dining utensils. The howling arctic wind would be like a dinner bell. As the icy wind bit into me I’d already decided who I’d bite into. This is why I don’t go hiking.
In the end, if I needed to eat another human being, I think I could do it. If one of my friends had this stupid expedition idea and it doesn’t work out for them, it should at least work out for me. Why should I die just because my friends are idiots? If we’re on this grand frosty adventure, I guarantee it wasn’t my idea. I probably would’ve suggested Manhattan or Tijuana, where cannibalism is voluntary and some times paid for. Bottom line, if we go on a dumb trip I didn’t plan, and things go wrong, I’m going to eat someone.
