Have we gone around the bend? This Three Li'l Pigs logo is hardly shocking. It's typical fare, after all, the pigs standing in contented leisure. They neither simper nor fawn nor (even) appear to welcome their own demise. The blandness of the image hardly seems to merit inclusion in our compendium. How are these milquetoasts representative of the bleeding stain of suicidefoodism?
Follow along. The story gets a little more juicy as our trio provides the background music for the diners' delight. (Can you see them up there, behind the bar?) The pigs are more active now, participating—peripherally—in the experience of their own consumption.
But it is only when we contrast these depictions—the pigs in idle comfort, the pigs singing for your supper—with other images found on the Three Li'l Pigs website that things take a turn for the grotesque.
Ah, now. The truth of the Before and After shots could hardly be more ghastly. Pigs, this is what you're in for. The Apple of Death, so iconic, yet so rare, is the cherry on top, the final mockery.
Oh, but these wordly pigs, equally at home in the sty and on the stage, know the score. They know they will end up glazed and displayed, the centerpiece of what Three Li'l Pigs Barbeque refers to as a Pig Pickin'.
(May we also mention this second appearance of the Bored Child? His presence in the scene symbolizes the Banality of Evil.)
While there is something in the straightforward presentation, the disarming lack of sentimentality, this is no less ghoulish for the honesty.
(Thanks to Dr. Joan for the referral.)