I went grocery shopping on Sunday. At the seafood department, there is a tank of live tilapia you can get freshly killed and cleaned. Just as an aside, I have pet fish, but I’m a fish-eater too. I understand some people wouldn’t want their pet’s kin eaten, but I’m not a vegetarian (because I am weak-willed and full of excuses about how good flesh tastes) so I’m the last one to cast any stones. So this lady orders a fish and I see the staff net it with barely any struggle. Then the fish cleaner starts scaling the fish. It’s alive. I’m such a spoiled ignoramus on this front, but it’s frightening to watch because I just keep imagining getting skinned alive. The guy finishes in about a minute, the whole process of scaling, gutting, cleaning, and bagging. It’s quick, but I wonder if it felt like an eternity for the fish. And I’ve read those stupid articles saying fish don’t feel pain. Any animal with a central nervous system to some degree feels pain. It’s a basic survival instinct. I’ve seen my fish flinch when they suffer a wound or are sick. They feel pain. Being the busy body I am, I ask the fish cleaner’s colleague about their fish cleaning methods. I wasn’t mean or angry or anything. Sort of just an inquiry. She nodded like she never thought of it and grimaced at the thought. Maybe a quick stab with a knife to break the spine would be the quickest way to kill it. I don’t know. I’m by no means criticizing the poor fish cleaning guy.  He’s good at his job and quick.  They’re all nice folks there.  And doing it day in and day out, it’s so easy to just not even give it a second thought.  That’s probably what I need to do. Stop thinking about it.  Ironically, this follows my fish recipe entry.  That’s the kind of sense I make.