A punk-pixie rocker chick chick. Motorcycles. The silhouettes of speedboats and circus tents. Fireworks and a flammable font! This festival's got it all!
And that includes the irresistible urge to cast a "food" animal in the role of a sexy chickie who's just asking for it. She plays for the crowd, gets them all revved up, and then it's a quick trip backstage for wing removal.
The questions ever gnaw at us, prick us, disturb our digestion, and interrupt our sleep: Why do they do this?
If they want to remind visitors of the "delicious" "food" in store, why not show pictures of it? Why must the main course be costumed in the guise of a living, breathing, consenting, rocking creature? Does this make the meal go down easier? Why is this shorthand—happy animal acting as the humans do—necessary?
And why are rebellious mediums (motorcycle culture, rock 'n' roll) so often used as the backdrop for this particularly virulent subservience?