The headline was shocking: “German Cannibal Convicted of Manslaughter.” Armin Meiwes had killed Bernd Brandes, a 48-year-old computer engineer, and eaten him sautéed with garlic, black pepper, potatoes, sprouts, and washed it all down, of course, with a bottle of red wine. Brandes had responded to the following advertisement posted by Meiwes: “looking for a well-built 18 to 30-year-old to be slaughtered and then consumed.” This was described as a “tricky case . . . because Cannibalism is not a recognised offence under German law” and the defense argued that “since the victim volunteered,” it was not murder.
We shuddered in disgust and horror as Hannibal “the Cannibal” Lecter in Silence of the Lambs (1991) teld how he ate a man’s “liver with some fava beans and a nice Chi-an-ti.” Even the story of the Uruguayan Rugby team’s cannibalism high in the Andes in 1972, forever immortalized in the movie Alive (1993), makes us uncomfortable. The same is true of the Donner Party (1846–1847), survivors who many claim ate the remains of their dead. Given materialistic assumptions, did these cannibals do anything wrong? Evolutionists tell us that we’re animals.
A few years ago, I saw an advertisement for a television special on Turner Network Television called “The Trials of Life.” The full-page advertisement showed a composite picture of six animals, one of which was the bald eagle, with the following caption: “Discover how similar the face of nature is to yours. The way you love, the way you fight, the way you grow, all have their roots in the kingdom we all live in: the animal kingdom.” The implication here is obvious: Humans are only an evolutionary step away from other animals.
While channel surfing, I came across the second installment of the six-part series of “The Trials of Life.” I soon learned what Benjamin Franklin meant when he described the eagle as a bird of “bad moral character.” With two eaglets in the nest and not enough food to go around, mamma allows the weakest eaglet to die. She then cannibalizes the dead eaglet and feeds it to the survivor. Was this natural or unnatural? Is this moral animal behavior that we should emulate? How do we know? Should we follow the example of the eagles?
Last week a Dutch television show promised to bring cannibalism into Dutch homes.
A Dutch broadcaster — renowned for testing the limits of good taste and the law — says it will air a segment in which two presenters engage in cannibalism by eating a small chunk of one another’s fried flesh.
A BNN spokesman said Tuesday the men had each had a small piece of tissue surgically removed for the stunt — one from his side and the other from his buttocks.
Presenter Dennis Storm said in a press release that his motivation was a simple desire to know how human flesh tastes.
A teaser clip for the show “Guinea Pigs,” which airs Wednesday, shows the two men looking on as a chef fries tiny pieces of meat in a pan.
It turned out to be a hoax. The network revealed that it wanted to “raise awareness of a shortage of organ donors.” Let’s suppose that the reality show did show cannibalism? Would it have been wrong?
When we are told that we have evolved from chemicals to living flesh, who’s to say that it’s wrong to eat one another? The first signs of life, as the evolutionists tell us that developed from the slimy ooze of the primordial ocean, ate what was available to stay alive, even if it was a competing amoeba. Survival of the fittest did not have a moral code to follow, so why should we have one today? Richard Dawkins could serve as a spokesman for the Dutch cannibalism reality show:
In the universe of blind physical forces and genetic replication, some people are going to get hurt, and other people are going to get lucky; and you won’t find any rhyme or reason to it, nor any justice. The universe we observe has precisely the properties we should expect if there is at the bottom, no design, no purpose, no evil and no good.
So enjoy a bit of human flesh. Raise a glass of Chianti to Dawkins and other evolutionists who see no problem with human flesh being on the menu.
Robert L. Dabney (1820–1898), a Southern Presbyterian theologian, understood what would happen as consistency took the reins of evolutionary ideology firmly in hand:
To borrow [Thomas] Carlyle’s rough phrasing: “If mine is a pig’s destiny, why may I not hold this ‘pig philosophy’?’1 Again, if I am but an animal refined by evolution, I am entitled to live an animal life. Why not? The leaders in this and the sensualistic philosophy may themselves be restrained by their habits of mental culture, social discretion and personal refinement (for which they are indebted to reflex Christian influences); but the herd of common mortals are not cultured and refined, and in them the doctrine will bear its deadly fruit.2