Foodies: The Final Frontier

This started with a long car ride. As I no longer have a valid driver’s licence, when Sweet Soul Burlesque goes on a road trip, it’s a job of mine to sit in the front passenger side and keep the drive awake. This includes, dirty jokes, past tour war stories (I have a LOT of those) predilections about our troupe mate’s sex lives and so on. There’s often a lot of material to cover, which is just as well, since the drives tend to be longish. So the whole topic had begun with me telling ghost stories to Miss Rita Star as she drove Team Westside’s car.

I was amusing her with tales of the Wendigo as we drove through the mountains and woods from Cranbrook To Revelstoke. The Wendigo is a legend originating from the Algonquian-speaking people. Like a nasty yeti, it said to walk through a village and give people a taste for flesh of their own kind, or if you eat the flesh of other humans your possessed by the spirit of the Wendigo. Or you really need to consider buying in bulk when you go to Costco. It’s fairly intense and one of the strictest taboos, including a few dances that emphasize this. So it totally stood to reason that I started to speculate about the taste of human meat.

Miss Star and I, both being devout foodies talked about differing factors. Cannibalism, is still a very large taboo in many societies, and considering the hyper-violent and uber -sexualized North American world we live in, it’s impressive that this has still held it’s water. But hasn’t anyone else ever been just a teeny little bit curious what it would be like to eat a human being? Just a little? We both agreed that lifestyle would be major contributing factors to taste. A vegan, straight-edge meal would taste different from someone who ate rich French food every day. Someone who smoked and drank heavily would likely taste repugnant. She later revealed that she and fellow foodie, Misty Greer, had eaten marrow of beef and it was delicious, so even the very marrow of our bones could potentially be holding some delicious treasure.

So I began to ponder, as I often do on these long road trips, that if we were to eat other humans, what would be the most civilized way to do it? We often assuage any guilt from eating beef, chicken or pork by stating that it’s ‘happy’ free-range and organic. So if we were to apply this to the eating of people, then we would make sure that they aren’t in cages (so to speak) and that they had the very best diet available. If we were to take it a step further and talk about giving them their every whim: attractive people for them to have sex with, luxury surroundings, wants and needs catered to justify that when they reach their peak, they will be slaughtered (in a civil manner) and consumed by the most discerning of palates.

I know someone out there (likely a member of PETA) is snorting as they read this, and I’ll have to field a volley of angry messages from outraged members of the public. First of all: settle the fuck down and secondly: that hasn’t happened. Yet. I started doing research on food taboos, and turns out there are WAY more out there than I had previously thought. It even goes in to mention that while eating primates isn’t a North American thing, the practice of eating ‘bush meat’ is still prevalent in the Congo, and Southeast Asia (especially Indonesia). So before anyone gets huffy with me about thinking of eating a person, I assure you haven’t. There are far stranger things being practiced in the world as it stands. And let’s face it, people are making food for people to eat out of human breast milk. Cheese and the like. So really, if I’m really desperate to find that out, I can kick up my foodie fetish to the next level and plague any friends who are expecting to let me use it in my baking. Then I can legitimately say I’ve consumed both male and female human proteins in my life. Though, I’d imagine, just like drinking water from the coconut, and honey from the comb, this too, always tastes better when fresh from the source.

Ew. I think I just grossed myself out. Time to go make a sandwich.

Adieu.

Little Miss Risk

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