A more repellant case of Stockholm Syndrome is difficult to imagine. Our pig has adopted the worldview, mannerisms, and wardrobe (!) of his captors. Pigs and cows are merely meat, right? Ain’t that so, Piggy?
Why, just look at him ringing his two-legged “kin” to table, while the corpse twirls on the spit behind him. (Even Patty Hearst—she of the beret and SLA sympathies—had more self-possession than this pig. ) The expression on his face is inhumanly human: a vicious glee, a joyful malice. He can’t wait to tear into the deceased and suck the “juice” off his trotters.
But all the pig-sized Stetsons in the world will never change this one simple truth: the pig is not one of them. They will allow him to call the hands to chow, but they’ll never let him date their daughters.
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