21 08 2008

I don’t want to kill. I stopped eating most meat over 14 years ago because I didn’t want to kill animals, and I thought that if I weren’t willing to kill a critter, I shouldn’t eat it. I do occasionally eat fish; I have gone fishing and thus know that I have been willing to kill what I consume. Still, it’s been a very long time since I’ve gone fishing, and I wonder if I’d still be willing to whack the head off a perch. In fact, I’m pretty sure that my fish-killing credit has long since been exhausted, and that if I were really honest, I probably wouldn’t kill a fish today. The conclusion, of course, is that I should stop eating fish. But I haven’t.

And I don’t want to kill what I wouldn’t eat, either. Here, I’m talkin’ about bugs. A couple of weeks ago I had a couple of flies in my room, and I tried to shoo them away rather than actively attempting to flatten them. My benevolence has been rewarded with more flies, and a more constant irritation with them. Now, when I’m outside, I figure it’s everyone’s and everything’s territory: I don’t stomp on ants because, hey, we all gotta live somewhere. Inside, however, I am murderous. I celebrated the visit by the monthly exterminator (gel, no sprays) at my last apartment because it meant I could look forward to another month of roach-free living. I kill ants, potato bugs, and those horrific hairy multi-pedal monstrosities which skitter out of unseen cracks in the floorboards. I don’t kill spiders because I consider them allies in my anti-insect quest. I don’t look for the bugs, and many times I’ll try to ignore them. But when pushed, I squash ’em.

I don’t want to kill. But I do.




One response

23 08 2008

I don’t eat meat because of how the animals are treated. I’m sure I could kill an animal if I had to, but as I don’t have to, I’ll get by with nuts and beans, thanks.

As far as bugs go, I only ever see the occasional giant cockroach. My view is that an individual cockroach is not really an individual life. For them it’s all about the hive, or whatever. So I’ll kill one if I have to, as a warning to the rest of them: send me a scout, and it won’t come back. Or maybe that’s just rationalization… they creep me out like nothing else does.

I think your multi-pedal monstrosity may be a house centipede:

When I had one of these I thought it was an alien invasion!

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