On death - Jess Ho

It's just a part of life.

I killed my first chicken when I was seven. It wasn’t sad. It wasn’t emotional. It wasn’t gory. I wasn’t squeamish. It wasn’t a gateway to me becoming a serial killer. It’s just a part of life. When I was a kid, we had chickens in the backyard. It was probably illegal, but my dad grew up on a farm in Hong Kong and being self-sufficient was normal for him. We lived in the middle of butt-fuck nowhere when they immigrated to Australia, so to do a quick run for an ingredient would take over an hour. We originally got a dozen chickens and a rooster for the eggs, but as the chickens aged and…

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