Let's Talk About Lobsters Potentially Being Immortals
I’m a big time sucker for facts that may or may not be true about areas of this world and beyond that I’ll never need in any circumstance under any scenario no matter what. So when a thread about lobster facts went semi-viral yesterday, you better believe I became instantly enthralled.
I’ve never really given a shit about lobsters. Giant sea cockroaches far as I’m concerned. Very clearly ocean dinosaurs of some sort. Pretty barbaric that humans not only eat them but the way in which they cook them has never sat well with me. Claws bound, shackled and immobilized, only to be dropped into a boiling pot while still alive. Truly gruesome stuff. Give me my meat long dead and looking nothing like the original animal in which it came, I’ve always said. But that was all until today, before I read this thread about how truly terrifying it is to be a lobster.
(I’m so happy humans don’t just keep growing until we’re dead. I’d be like 7’3″ right now and still very much not in the League. You talk about depressing.)
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(Lotta science words on a Saturday. Leads me to believe all of this as fact. You throw some big words at me and I wont refute a single thing you’re trying to sell me as truth.)
(It was by this point of the thread I thought I solved human immortality. “Well fuck, let’s just inject ourselves with more telomerase. Boom, unfreeze Ted Williams’ head I just cracked the code. I will take precisely one (1) Nobel Peace Prize and billions of dollars thank you.”)
(Welp, just gave everyone cancer by mistake. Whoopsie-daisies. My bad. That’s on me.)
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(Never been happier to have my skeleton inside of me. Good call by the big man upstairs to think of skin for us. Molting feels like such a chore.)
(Sea turtles rule and I will accept zero opinions to the contrary.)
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So parasites, bacteria, and getting crushed to death by their own bodies are the only ways in which giant old lobsters meet their demise. Weird, wild, horrifying stuff going on at the bottom of the sea. I’m now all in on releasing lobsters from their permanent prisons known as exoskeletons. Hence forth I will be picturing them as Mad Max-style War Boys who view being plucked from the seas as being chosen by their crustacean god and the boiling pots as their Valhalla.