Sunday, February 4, 2007
What you see before you is evidence of an animal mind made mad. The Smokin’ Stokes pig does not merely accept his own destruction. He does not merely welcome it. He revels in it. He rolls on his bed of flame as a sane pig would roll in mud. His death gives him unending joy and satisfaction. He is rolling in fire and he loves it! His squeals are of ecstasy. Through the alchemy practiced by followers of Suicide Foodism, his pain—the hellish agony of the burned alive—is transmuted to pleasure.
People of Greenville, South Carolina, take heart. You need never wonder at your practices. The animals, do they suffer? The cows, do they miss their young? The chickens, do they long for open spaces? The pigs, do they feel pain?
No, Greenvillians! Like this pig, all the animals inhabit a world devoid of anguish. What we call cruelty, they call love.