Yesterday Stubs and I were getting ready for the day in the restroom when a bug flew in. Stubs said, "Bug" and then took a bottle of Centrum and smashed the shit out of it. It was still alive, so I suggested turning on the water to drown it.
Now, I've been doing a lot of Buddhist related stuff recently. Reading that just as you are constantly experiencing the universe, the universe is experiencing you, that kind of thing. Anyway, the bug was still (admirably) alive, so I decided I'd save it's life.
Wrapped it in a paper towel. Threw it outside. It flew away.
Now, I think that everybody at one point in their lives does something like this. Some people do it every day. But the thing is, I think everyone expects to feel super noble for it. Like, "I have given this small creature life, I am like the Jesus of bugs."
But the fact is, I (and I'd venture most people) are only convincing themselves that's the way they feel. The truth is I felt about the same saving a bug as it does killing them. Take from that what you will, but I think it's a great argument against killing in general.
Went to Sea World again yesterday. It was the shit wrapped inside the bomb. We rode the Kraken many times.