Sunday, December 31, 2006
Classic. Our hog is catching some rays, just chillin' in the barbecue! He's got his knife and fork. He's got his shades. He's got his napkin. (Although it might be the Bandanna of the Damned.) No scene of horror this, as he feels, sees, and smells his own meat cooking. No, no, sensitive viewers. This is leisure, not wicked rite. Recreation! Pleasure! The pig is wearing sunglasses! How dire could the situation be?
The wisps of pig-scented smoke remind us of the scene's raison d'être: the consumption of animal flesh. The spirit is weak, and the flesh is all-too-willing! The pig's ecstatic, lolling tongue lets us know that this—sitting in the roasting pan—is his reason for being, too. It's all about kicking back and getting eaten. So grab a plate, you prigs. Live a little!
By the by, do you suppose this is the North Carolina way of doing everything?