I've caught a lot of lobster off the coast of LA. We hoop net by the breakwall in Redondo. Usually they're just over a foot long at the beginning of the season and by the end it's hard to find a legal one. I always let the men deal with the killing part. They use the "knife through the skull" method instead of the boiling alive method.

They also had the same mentality as the David Foster Wallace mentioned:

...plus that a willingness to exert personal agency and accept responsibility for stabbing the lobster’s head honors the lobster somehow and entitles one to eat it.

Typically we catch 10-20 lobsters a session, so the rest of the tails get frozen in milk cartons filled with ocean water until they are ready to be eaten. Fresh lobster is better, but 2 day old lobster that's been frozen in saltwater isn't noticeably different.

It is fucking ordeal to catch lobsters yourself – which is why those lobsters taste way better than the same lobsters from the fish market. We typically get down to the harbor at 4:30 or 5, grab some scraps of bait from the fish market, untangle the nets, hope there aren't maggots in them, put the bait scraps in pantyhose, tie those to the nets, find leftover 2 liter bottles in the recycling, put glowsticks in them, tie those to the nets, pack everything and a case of beer into the dingy, and set off. Then we drop all the nets one by one, circle back to the first one, pull it up, grab any lobster, check the length, throw them back if they are undersized, add new bait if it's gone, drop it the net back down, and repeat until we've hit our limit or we are too cold, wet, and stinky to do it anymore.

I never really thought about the killing part or pain that the lobster feel, beyond the fact that I'm too squeamish to take part in it myself. I don't necessarily like it but I don't know if it is better or worse than the slabs of pink meat I pick off the shelf at the grocery store every week. I have a higher respect for hunters who hunt, kill, skin, butcher, and eat their own meat than I have for myself picking $15 steaks out of a fridge. There really is something to eating something that required effort to obtain.

I don't know.

It's easier to ignore the death or horrible shit or pain or whatever. (This applies to everything - not just lobster.) Taking a moment to think about it instead of ignoring it or forcing it to the back of your mind is probably better in some sense. But it's also fucking depressing. One thing about being human is we get to rule this Earth - for better or for worse.

I think the takeaway from this piece is that we should all be more aware and reflective about the things we do, or animals we eat, or choices we make every day. The things that are easy to ignore can be quite interesting when examined – especially when examined by David Foster Wallace in ten thousand words. Does it mean that I'll stop eating lobster? No. Does it mean I'll think twice before throwing the lobster into the dingy next season? Not at all. But I'll probably think back to this essay next time I'm trying to wash the saltwater and fish smell out of my skin while licking my lips and watching lobster tails boil magnificently. Another thing about being human is we are capable of being reflective and empathetic. Maybe we should try to do more of the latter as we are ruling the world.