Before scrolling any further, I should warn you that the images in today's post are of dead meat. It is no big mystery where meat comes from, but still I was torn this friday as I watched ten grown men struggle to spear and barbecue a dead creature on the Greybrothers Square. On one side I was sad for the animal so brutally split open and humiliated in the afterlife, while on the other side my mouth was watering at the thought of barbecued meat. It is not the first time I have found myself in this dilemma, and as long as I continue to both love and eat animals, it is probably not the last. The project was an overnighter, and 2 chefs were assigned to the nightshift. Lunch was served at noon the next day, but as it turned out I missed that (along with that parade), and by early evening there was no traces left of the feast.
It is odd, but I somehow feel that it serves me right to be confronted with this sight once in a while. If I can't at least look at it, I should not be allowed to eat it.