meat_ghost

Pleasure to meat.

I live for meat.

A fool might perhaps attribute the dread of meat ghost simply to the evolutionary instinct to be wary of consuming the wrong thing or being consumed by the wrong thing. Such a buffoon clearly fails to recognize that the rigor mortis fear that grips us comes not from awe of the natural world but our perversion of it. Arrogant in the throes of our hubris we believe flesh to be sacrosanct, in our domination of the animal kingdom we claim possession of meat. And so we reflexively shy away from meat ghost, after all who -fearmongerers ask- could be less deserving of meat then a ghost and once a ghost has claimed meat, once our monopoly on flesh has crumbled what might it take next... The seemingly contradictory nature of a meat ghost terrifies us because it reminds us of our place in the cosmos and our insignificance to nature. We fear meat ghost then not out of primal emotion but out of a rational certainty. We fear meat ghost because it represents our Icarus tumble from the tower of babel. Our fall from grace.