Something new from the architects of suicidefoodism’s hollow bastion: animals who live to sacrifice themselves not to humans and their storied and boundless appetites, but instead to their animal companions!
Here we have a mocking parody of the truism that to declare some animals family and others food is an act not of reason, but of caprice. How blind we were! We have no doubt now that the airwaves and annals are replete with similar examples of suicidal pet food. If only we could have opened our eyes earlier and seen! Whole vistas of fresh horrors waited only for a glance!
And now that we have—at last—seen, we cannot look away. It is as if we have only now been told the story of War, of Pain, of Betrayal. We hunger for it, for the truth it tells of Man’s dark heart.
In this chapter, Free Range Dog Chews and Chicken Breast Wraps. Such a sense of equality this grinning, thumbs-upping chicken has. It makes no difference to him whether he winds up in a human or canine stomach! As long as he gets to die, he’s satisfied! If only we could all be so willing to see the commonalities shared by all life! And it’s not just chickens who possess this Alpha of wisdom, this first thought, this very Basis for Action. Cod also, and shrimp, and crabs feel it and know.
However, for all their adherence to the Movement's dogma, Free Range Dog Chews will not—can not!—be confined by its conventions. No! For even while they show us the delighted chicken and his merry marine martyrs, they commit the sin of Pride. Like heroes daring the very gods, they glow with hubris. Witness these of their products. They don't hide the ugliness of their enterprise beneath the now-familiar whitewash.
They are forging a new way. A sneering, arrogant way! They offer neither "treats," nor "morsels"—those cowardly anonyms. Instead, they are frank, bizarrely so. Lamb tracheas! Lamb hocks! Lamb lungs! Too powerful for lies, they proclaim themselves! Too powerful for lies? For the lies that lubricate the machinery of suicidefoodism's very world? How?
And then, this. This final statement. Lamb Pizzle Twists. Forgive them their one nod to propriety, their one uncharacteristic flirtation with euphemism. Pizzle. Are you unfamiliar with the term? (Are they banking on your ignorance?) A pizzle is a penis. These are "twists" made from the penises of lambs. (Better that you know.)
The lamb keeps on smiling! How could he not? Pizzle Twists are his ultimate degradation!
Addendum (10/06/10): Now this newly discovered image really shows off the lamb's true feelings! Banished is the specter of the lamb's ambivalence. He is tee-totally, 100% on board.
Addendum 2 (12/20/10): Another thumbs-upping critter happy to be some dog's dinner!