One evening, Gill watched the lobsters cook, gazing over them clamoring over one another, trying to crawl out of the pot as the bubbling hellbroth slowly transformed each animal from darkly-hued spidery bottomfeeders into ruby-red dinnerplate centerpieces, their lives extinguished in the process.

“I thought, just because they’re in their little shells and they don’t have vocal cords, that doesn’t mean there isn’t extreme suffering happening there,” Gill says. “It’s obvious. You can see it.”

Jackie Bryant
THC: The High Crustaceans

A much more existential conundrum than it would appear to be.