If you harbored any doubts that strange forces are at work, forces mustered to overthrow reason and decency and install despair and confusion in their place, you need only look to this image.
This painting (image source), part of a mural at the Costa Mesa Omelette Parlor, depicts a sun-worshiping sow at the park. Demurely topless, she dozes on her undone bikini top in the mid-day heat.
As such, she perfectly represents that bizarrest of all suicidefoodist icons, the Sexy Sow. We've seen her sisters in these "pages" many times, and each appearance is more baffling than the last. For it combines sexual neurosis and suicidal "food" animals in a way that should never have occurred to anyone. But there it is, enshrined in untold murals, logos, menus, and the other paraphernalia of the entrailpreneur.
We understand the impulse that leads to suicidefoodism. We understand the comfort derived from animals who appear pleased with people's desire to kill and eat them. We deplore it, but we understand it. We don't understand, however, this desire to see "food" animals as sexual beings. Is it the horror movie cliché of wishing violence on the sinful? Exactly why are they made scapegoats? For what must they be punished? And how, exactly, does this put anyone's mind at ease and create psychological distance?
It's as though seeing in them some aspect of humanity has made it easier for them to be objectified.
Thus is the Sexy Sow Paradox.