Cristi: [[Rich, did you just watch “Alive,” or something?]]
Oh, I forgot to mention…on the ship you’re coming back from the World Series of Rugby.
Actually, this is a question I once posed to a discussion group I was in. I have another good one, too, which I’m saving for a rainy day.
[[I don’t know if I could eat my loved one. But I can say this…if my loved one had to eat my dead flesh to survive, I’d be okay with that.]]
I suspect this is what most people would say. It would be my own answer.
Babar714: [[I think I’d start eating the rocks/twigs first. No, I dont’ mean ‘twigs ‘n’ berries’. There has to some nutritional value to sand, twigs, leaves, dirt…]]
You’re trying to change the hypothetical. There ARE no twigs or leaves. And, no, dirt and sand have no nutritional value that I’m aware of. (I suppose that if you could force them down it might make you FEEL less hunger, but you’d be dying at the same rate as before.)
Stoidela: [[My answer has nothing to do with cannibalism of a loved one, which I think I could do in the case of anyone except my fiance. If it were him, I don’t think I could or would simply because if he died
(especially under such circumstances as these) i don’t think I’d care to go on living.]]
Certainly a legitimate position.
radar ralf: [[How about starting on your self? You could slice some of that excess meat off of your own body and keep both of you alive.]]
What you’d most likely do is either bleed to death or die of infection, in which case the question would be whether your loved one would finish the job. (But some people don’t like to eat leftovers.)
[[The real secret here is the freshwater spring. If something like that exists on your island, you can be reasonably sure that birds have discovered the water and will paying you a visit - and then you can have raw seagull!]]
The real secret here is that there are no birds in this hypothetical–no birds, no twigs, no nothing. Your loved one has died. You are on the verge of doing the same. To eat, or not to eat–that is the question.
aseymayo: [[Clearly, we have very different ideas about what “fun” is.]]
I get the feeling you won’t be inviting me to your next party.
[[Sorry, started thinking about something fun…where was I?]]
I knew SOMEBODY would bring that up.
funneefarmer: [[Supplementary question… so what you gonna roast him with, hot sand? And where are ya gonna find a knife[…]]]
Remember the broken-up boat here. I didn’t say you had nothing combustible, and I think we can assume there’s a knife in there (or in your pocket, for that matter). There’d BETTER be a knife–otherwise you have to tear chunks out with your teeth.
[[[W]hat kind of moron can’t swim out a couple of yards and catch himself a fish or something crawling along the bottom[…]]]
Have you ever caught a fish with your bare hands? And, if so, were you nearly dead of starvation at the time? There’s no fishing gear in the boat–that I would have mentioned.
Zette: [[I probobly would have clubbed him long ago and finished the body a week into my stay. I expect he would do the same if we were deserted together somewhere!]]
True love is a wonderful thing. I’ll count you as an outright “yes.”
Cristi: [[Re: radar ralf & starting on yourself Stephen King wrote a really interesting short story about that…can’t remember the title, though. Can someone help me out here?]]
As noted below, the story is “Survivor Type,” which was in King’s short story collection “Skeleton Crew.” The protagonist is a disgraced surgeon and drug smuggler–he not only knows what he’s doing, he has a large supply of heroin to anesthetise (spelling?) himself. He starts by amputating and eating a gangrenous foot. Mmm mmm good, as the Campbell’s Soup commercials used to say.
Pooch: [[However, it seems like you’d be able to fashion a net or something and catch fish, or perhaps play with holes and the tide. Spears?]]
Sorry, no nets in the boat. Since I postulated a knife above, I suppose that could be used as a spear of a sort. I doubt that you’d have much success with it, especially as you continue to weaken.
[[ Before I eat the body, I’d consider using it for bait.]]
Very creative. But one in the hand is worth two in the bush, as the saying goes.
Satan: [[Re: Eating yourself[…]That could be the new diet fad!]]
You are what you eat, as the ad used to say.
Mike King: [[If you have not, you don’t know what you would resort to if you were stuck in an elevator for thirty minutes.]]
“Damn Otis!” [Rip! Chew! Swallow!] “Damn Otis!”
Next time you’ll carry some Lifesavers in your pocket.
The responses so far follow the pattern that came out in the discussion group I mentioned earlier–people are so uncomfortable with the hypothetical that they try to change it to avoid answering the question.
Here’s another supplementary question. If you wouldn’t/couldn’t eat your loved one–or if you did, but no rescue was forthcoming in the extra time–would you wait for death by starvation? Or would you decide enough was enough, throw yourself in the ocean, and take a deep breath?
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