I kill lobsters dead.

Last Summer the A-train and I rented a little house in the Catskills with a gas grill suitable for burning dead things on and a large, creaky bed unsuitable for vigorous sexual activity.

In celebration of this blessed reprieve from the NYC summer heat and urine scented subway tunnels I stole two unfortunate lobsters from work (marlowandsons.com) and drove several hours north with them tussling in the back seat like delicious toddlers.

Shortly after our arrival (and after a brief tussle of our own on said creaky bed) we decided that a) we were hungry and that b) lobsters must die.

I'm not sure how many of you have ever particlpated in the wholesale slaughter of living creatures for the production of your own foodstuffs (as much as I like Mike Pollan and speaking from the p.o.v. of a person has ended the lives of many a living creature with the aid of a firearm, shooting a pig with a rifle from 50 yards away does not fucking count) but I am here to tell you that it will make you rethink being a meatatarian and stare at yourself in the mirror for a long, long time.

"How does one participate in the wholesale slaughter of inverterbrates?" you may ask.

Well, let me tell you something about it:

First off let me tell you about the slaughter of an inverterbrate that is far worse than the that of the lobsters whose death I am about to recount.

The name of this inverterbrate is the soft shelled blue crab.

Ever eaten a moist, crunchy, mayonaise-alicious soft shell crab sandwich? Let me tell you how that goes.

First, get yourself a good pair of kitchen shears. The kind with serrated blades and big handles.

Then get some crabs.

Then imagine that you were raised by Luke Skywalker's aunt and uncle, then imagine that these frisky, tender crabs were the startroopers that turned them into smoking skeletons. Trust me, it will help later on.

Then take your shears and your uncle murdering crabs and cut their faces off. Yikes!! They gurgle. They thrash.

They don't stop moving so get on with it and lift up the pointy side ends of it's shell. See those wierd jellyish gill things? Those are it's lungs. I know that the crab is still thrashing from you cutting of it's face but you're going to have to take the shear tip, put it under the loop of it's lungs and cut them the fuck off.

Still thinking about how they killed your aunt and left her a steaming mess on the sandy earth of Tattoine?

Good.

Now the flip the little beasty in your hand over. Note that there are tiny bubbles coming out of the ragged gash where it's face used to be. Relish it's misery and notice the the flap of shell where you'd think their ass should be. This is a blue crabs genitals. Realize that if this guy wasn't caught molting that he would give you a painfull pinch with those sharp, steak knife-like pinchers and take the flap in your off hand's index finger and thumb. Suspend the crab by it's genitals above a suitable crab recepticle and cut off it's junk.

Whew! It's almost done wiggling.

Dutch oven of boiling oil (340')? Check.

Mixture of 1 part flour, 1 part corn starch, salt pepper, paprika and enough sparkling water to make it thick but not pasty?
Check.

Dip the mutilated crab carcass in the batter, shake off the excess and fry for 3-5 minutes.

Still with me?

Right. Now killing a lobster is like marinating a bonless, skinless chicken breast compared to the satanic cult-like mutilation of the lowly blue crab.

One thing is that lobsters are large and therefore potentially dangerous.

You could easily imagine a lobster clipping off one of your digits and lazily munching on it if you were placed in it's mercy.

This is good. It's not really murder so much as self-defence.

If you suffer from guilt you could cut off the rubber bands that keep the thing from cutting off your digits and make it a battle to the finish (I'm a cold blooded serial killer type as you might have guessed, so I don't).

Now you'll need a big, sharp knife, salt and seasoned butter (room temp butter with garlic, cilantro, whatever you like).

Take your ferocious lobster in your off hand and grip it right behind where the claws meet the body.

Then take the point of your big, sharp knife and place it right between it's beady little eye.

Push the knife down in one swift, sure motion. Ignore the crunching sound and the green/clear blood.

In a slicing carrot motion, pivot the blade of the knife down towardthe cutting board so that it cuts the lobster's face in half.

Now flip the lobster over like it shows in the picture and with a series of well aimed jabs, cut the lobster in half lengthwise. This is harder than it sounds. Don't cut yourself.

Look in triumph at your newly bisected foe. Now throw a bunch of kosher salt on it's tranlucent flesh. Twitches a bit, doesn't it?

Now butter mixture. Not too much! If you're a pussy you could pretend that you're soothing it's wounds with delicious salve.

Grill hot? Good. Throw them on a medium flame with the grill up pretty far and cook them until the flesh turns white and plump.

Eat my child, eat.

We had fresh picked local corn on the cob with left over lobster salve.

Death (for some things) is really good, even when it makes you feel really bad.