The nuzzling pigs have a secret.
It's a secret so horrifying that the only medium hideous enough for it is the sign of a barbecue restaurant.
"This is why we never run out of bar-b-cue. Because we are constantly in rut, and the offspring that result—we like to call them by-products—are intended for you to eat."
A more effective argument for abstinence, or at least birth control, we can hardly imagine. (Although this is equally convincing.)
Do you see how the sow is transported, while the boar shoots us a knowing glance? It's the timeless dance of male and female essence, performed by pigs. That they play their parts knowing the outcome—confiscated and murdered children—is enough to sour us on love.
(Thanks to Dr. larrywfu for the photo.)