The art of cooking a crab.
Unlike a chicken or a cow you can’t just slit a crab’s throat, you can’t drain the blood or physically damage it, otherwise you’d break the exoskeleton and damage the precious meat held inside.i You can’t just chuck it into a pot of boiling water because like any animal it would emit a stress response and taste bad because it’s in a heightened state and the hormones and musculature are all wack. (that’s why you slaughter cows separately so the others don’t freak out and ruin the meat)
The way to properly cook a crab is to stick it into a pan of cold water and slowly bring up the heat. This slow change in its surrounding doesn’t freak it out, it doesn’t realize these incremental changes and won’t freak out until eventually it reaches a point where it dies.
Honestly when I first heard the story I thought “what a fucking numpty” I sneered at the idiot crab who didn’t realize that it was getting hotter, but it’s a fallacy we all have – just not in the same way as the crustacean.
No one really notes an incremental change, we don’t realize putting on an extra few hundred grams of mass or writing on or two blog posts or just changing as a person.
Over time these will compound but we’ll never really notice because we primarily live in the moment and process in real time – we hardly notice these incremental changes.
Over a period of a few months everything has changed, you’ve put on a few stone, you’ve completely changed you’re values or you now have a cracking blog.
Today I went through this behemoth of text, I think I’m on about 240 or something posts, possibly closer to 300. At about 250 words on average that’s 60,000 at the lowest estimate. A small book. Sure not all of its quality but spending just a few minutes a day over time has compounded into this, every day for months adding a little to this mountain of text. The thought that has been put in and written down is pretty monumental and awe inspiring if I’m honest.
I reckon this realisation has tempted me into writing another year of this, to see something I’d created come into fruition, it’s like watching a kid grow up honestly. But I’m going to make it different, perhaps a private blog where I can roast the shit about everyone I know and hide my darkest secrets, or write a new one under a pseudonym that would last a solid 4 days before being discovered.
The other idea is that I write a book. Every day I write something, maybe I want a story or an essay, a poem or an idea I find inspiring, perhaps I’ll roast some chick but change the name and details. I’d probably write it in secret and try and market it at the end, a book page has apparently 200 words or so most days would be a page or so taking a new page every day. I’d intersect some pictures a friend took because theyre indie af plus he helped me with the idea and I’d end up with 500 or so pages over a year.
Readers could watch how I change over the year, or if I even do. They can follow what I did every day as they do their day and compare my life to theirs.
I like the idea even though it sounds a little like “diary of a wimpy kid” but it’ll be more prolific and real and wow I really like this idea.
Perhaps it’ll just be one of those plans that are nice to conceptualise and plan but will never come to fruition but I have something the other people who want to write books don’t have. I have a habit of writing every day regardless of how I feel, what I’ve done and how much time I have left. I have the ability to write this, and unlike most of the posers I can actually back up my claim.
Perhaps that will be the magic of the book, watching what happens when you force a young Asian child to work all them time for little reward and middle class white kids complain about it a lot but still enjoy the fruits of their labour – or is that a sweatshop?