It is my own preference that cannibalism be reserved only for one’s rivals. I would not eat my enemies no matter how much I should wish and invite violence upon them because, altogether, I do not respect my enemies. For, the relationship one has with one’s rivals, and with one’s enemies is very different.
An enemy is a human obstacle. It is why it is so easy to dehumanize one’s enemies. And that dehumanization, or capacity thereof aesthetically devalues the consumption of a human life, it corrupts the practice in a sense.
Really, cannibalism is exciting because it is so symbolically rich. It is significant, by which I mean it signifies so much.
Consider your food. What you eat. Not simply fuel, but an experience, a delicacy, a supreme art. One does not ingest food they know will produce sickness. So it is with people.
One would not want the strengths and the passions of their enemy, it would pollute them! With regards to cannibalism, one must have a very refined appetite, and be a picky eater.
Only one’s rivals therefore, are fit for consumption. One is familiar with one’s rivals, knows their strengths, and respects them for them. Sees them in their totality, as a human being. And in all of this still wishes to be the better, to come out victorious, not by snuffing out the light of their rival’s humanity, but by consuming it, and including it in themselves.
. . .
I remember the first time I ate someone. He was a young man, about my age, very handsome. We had grown up together.
At first he cried out in horror to disguise his excitement. And the fellow had lain there quite in a state of shock, wearing many faces, until, quite by accident I choked on his heart. After a moment I got it down and worked to regain my composure, and everything was silent, until a snicker leapt out of my counterpart, teasing a similar one out of me. And we both laughed innocently for the rest of the night.