It is easy to imagine our d'Ucktagnan in keeping with Michael York's 1973 portrayal: his young musketeer was brash but hapless, full of easy charm. The d'Artagnan duck embodies this same joie de vivre.
And just as the 17th century d'Artagnan served his lord totally—Louis XIV, the Sun King, le roi soleil—so this one serves the d'Artagnan brand of game and livestock meat products above all.
Yet something is missing from the portrait. Have you noticed? His feet are there. His legs. His wings. His back. His neck, his long, gracile neck. But what of his head? The duck is missing his head! However to account for this? We jest. Nothing could be simpler. The symbolism couldn't be more blatant.
They can't bear to look him in the eye. After ramming the feeding tube down that long, gracile neck time and time again, cramming it down his throat again and again, pumping in the grain until his liver is distended and diseased, they simply cannot bear to look him in the eye, lest they see in his exhausted gaze some trace of… what? Emotion? Misery? The preternatural power of the martyr?
(Grover Maurice Godwin, in his Hunting Serial Predators, relates this piece of "wisdom" from career killers who have learned to cover the faces of their victims: "Faces scream at you." How apt. They also accuse.)
And finally, the Suicide Food blog panel asked us to make the following statement:
While we find foie gras to be the foulest of all so-called luxury foods, our professional integrity demanded that we award only 1 (one) noose to the d'Artagnan logo. While grotesque—for what it glosses over, if not for what it depicts—its very bloodlessness, its graphic innocence, makes a higher noose-count unwarranted.Grudgingly, we have honored their wishes.