FRIDAY’S FINICKY FISH

 

You have to read the sign twice to get the joke —

SAMSUNG

I was doing some business in this little shopping area when I noticed this sign.     It’s Friday and I was planning to get fish,  but  I wasn’t planning to get fish from a farm.   “Farm fresh tomatoes,” okay;   “farm fresh corn on the cob,” okay.

But, seriously,  ever since I read Clive Cussler’s “White Death”  I haven’t willingly purchased “farm-raised”  fish.

It’s tough to feel good about the fish that’s for sale nowadays.    I’ve learned too much about fish farming to feel comfortable with that source.     Microscopic particles rain down on us from the chemtrails, which add metals like aluminum, barium, and cadmium to our fish flesh.    Wild-caught fish from the Pacific Ocean have tumors and lesions —  so sad to see — reportedly from the radiation that is flowing out  at staggering rates from the broken-open reactors at Fukushima.   Here in the Far North decades-long industrial runoff has contaminated our rivers and lakes which makes our fish unsafe to eat in any great quantity.

They tell us not to eat fish more than once a week.   Oh, well.     That’s Friday, then.

If I’m not going to eat the farmed fish, at least I can get a little laugh at the sign.     I have visions of Squanto teaching the Pilgrims to plant a fish inside their little mounds of seeds.    But then Squanto’s own fish harvest came from a cleaner ocean.

I guess our world needs a good cleansing.    Until then, I’ll be a finicky fish eater.

 

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