I indulge my idiosyncratic conclusions often but sometimes recognize their great disparity with the normal course of human reasoning. One recent example came from my current cursing redirection. I grew to realize that I have a very relaxed attitude toward swearing and was using “fuck” sometimes beyond the comfort of those around me. So, I decided to shift away from that particular word again. My swearing will remain constant – my earlier experiments confirmed this – but I can substitute in a different, unsused word. I explained all this before from the theory and intention standpoint in June last year. Rather than perpetuate the relation of fuck (sex) and negative situations, I now use “sin” and some variants.

Very quickly, I felt the gravity of that particular choice. The effect is largely diminished now; but, at first cursing sounded very judgmental. Muttering that the person who cut me off is a ‘fucker’ or a ‘motherfucker’ only expresses my disparagement for his action. Calling himer a ‘sinner’ felt like a more comprehensive repudiation. No one has commented on the change, but I wonder if they feel a greater sting than I intend.

But that confrontation is a straight-edge compared to the twisted nature of the next, as I currently understand it. Most Universalisms bore me. Rewarding people of value within my social circle (or who provide free services to me) will always win out over UNICEF, no matter how many cleft lips they repair. Still, I am not immune to certain appeals provided they come with a suitably wonderous solution. One such is the problem of animal meat.

The problem consists of its overwhelming demand on our resources. Frankly, there is no point in repeating an argument found a hundred other places if you should care to brave the vegetarian appeals they primarily espouse around it. I have no compunctions with factory farms and the discomforts they occasion on the sentient protein and lipid sacks grown within. Wasting the land and water bother me instead. Giving up animal protein isn’t a viable option. That stands close to choosing a diabetic diet because sugar is evil and addictive or something. The elegant solution simply substitutes another animal, a more efficient animal: insects.

If you have seen any food tourism show, you have likely seen that other countries sometimes include grasshoppers or ants and so on in their diet because they can’t afford beef. In that case, the cooks probably fry or bake them whole. Frankly, except for kids sucking Hot Lix, American’s will not ‘regress’ in that manner. Western advocates for incorporating insects into the national diet don’t seem to realize that the sympathetic magic mindset is powerful and people will just not want to eat anything that looks like bugs any more than they want to drink reclaimed sewage water no matter how sterile engineers make it. The idea taints. (Insect cookbooks are made for the converted, so they just leave the crickets and mealworms whole in the recipes.)

My answer draws from that discontinued Burger King (anti-McDonalds) commercial. Two lab coat actors poke and prod a chicken whilst the narrator declares they are looking for the ‘nugget’ on its body. Which part of a pig are sausages or bologna made from? No one knows or cares because its identity fell away in the meat grinder. You see my answer, right? Just grind the insects and treat them as crunchy meat (pretend it is corn flakes). Then it can be anything you want: meatballs, koobideh, croquetas, or part of a Sheppard’s Pie. In that way, it becomes optimific.

Still, I know it would expend lots of my social capital to try the experiment here, whilst I live with people who care for me (and regard me watchfully). The interest seized me nonetheless, so I bought an insect cookbook for a single page within it. I wanted to know where I could buy insects for that far future when I might incorporate them into my diet. I hoped that the author would treat obtaining them in a whole chapter, comparing raising them against buying them from a wholesaler. Alas, only preparation dominated her mind. She left a single page for a list of suppliers with no commentary. I delayed looking up the companies for two or so months, out of disappointment.

Some have websites, some do not. She published ten years ago, so this is no surprise. The candied insect sites are obvious and useless to this project. Still, some cricket and mealworm wholesalers conduct internet sales and within California too. Some sell live insects some do not. All struck me with a horror that called my commitment to task. I realized the insanity of the project as the superstition reassembled, unbidden, from the floor of my psyche. Grubco Inc. doesn’t sell insects for human consumption; it sells fish bait. The others similarly hype their product for feeding to snakes or birds.

I felt betrayed. The problem came from my abstracted expectations. I had hoped those companies would keep their sites impersonal, like that adult rack behind the bookstore counter. ‘We just sell bugs, use them as you like: beetles, grasshoppers, ect.’ Of course, without engaging their target market, they won’t distinguish themselves for significant sales. And yet, I want to blame them for recasting my principled conclusion into eating dog food. Reason frayed as I debated the compatibility of human and bird or fish nutrient requirements. Surely, it isn’t poisonous or anything. That contested with the image of having to clean the intestines out of unshelled shrimp. Do I have to do that?

In retrospect, my reaction shouldn’t have shocked me so much. Hiding the origin of the protein is the whole reason I want to grind them into a paste. As pioneer, though, I have to do it myself; buy, process, and cook them myself. If, say, I won the lottery and sold bug nuggets, customers would be removed from this level because they would buy it in the frozen section alongside lean cuisine. Further there is no urgency to my task. This option doesn’t open even experimentally until I move out. That will ease the transition with familiarity.

The purchase itself is ambiguous. The prices look ok, but I am not sure about the volume or the shipping. It bears a closer scrutiny. The fish bait likely sells smaller amounts than bird or lizard food, given the difference in long term demand. In the end, I will need to diminish my pride whether I am using soy all the time or mealworm fritters.

By the way, I had planned to write this and keep it hidden but the concurrent news article felt like providence. Its Universalist hope is still foolish and fails because it can only offer a Luddite solution. Say we buy less meat collectively. Initially, there will be the same amount on the shelves before the supermarket realizes the slack; they purchase supplies months in advance. Then, they will offer more meat at the same price. (I just read another article about how chips bags are bigger during the recession and smaller in boom times without changing the price. They do this because consumers hate seeing the price go up, especially on an elasitc good like snacks.) If that fails, they will put all their meat on sale and the temptation will eat into the new converts. A good, long time will pass before the (global) market reduces its supply. Still, any visionary would counter that with, “effort and delay doesn’t make the outcome any less valuable.” It would probably have been safer to hide this dissonant aspect, but it isn’t as though I expressed anything more than a flirtation with the idea. I’m neither buying nor eating insects for the forseeable future. I am not crazy.