“The dinner we had that evening was not very good. Some salad made from greens and jack mackerel. The fellow who owned the place had brought the jack mackerel for the cats that hung out there, but the cats wouldn’t eat it. The stuff was so bad that they would sooner go hungry. And they did.
Jack mackerel tears your system apart. Almost as soon as it hits your stomach, you begin to rumble and squeal and flap. Sounds like a haunted house during an earthquake tear horizontally across your stomach. Then great farts and belches arriving out of your body. Jack mackerel almost comes through the pores.
After a dinner of jack mackerel you sit around and your subjects of conversation are greatly limited. I have found it impossible to talk about poetry, esthetics or world peace after eating jack mackerel. “
Richard Brautigan “A Confederate General from Big Sur”, 1964
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