the world is not my oyster, not my cray-craw-or-crabfish, mudbug, yabby or crustacean of choice. I don’t crack bivalves to harvest who or what I am. I eat them with sauce, spicy, spicy sauce, fresh made with real horseradish and enjoy the slithering as they make their way down. But philosophy, ontology, whatever osophy or […]