Bacon Valentine

On this day when we bare our hearts, we see the central theme of suicidefoodism laid bare. Namely, that the animals want to serve us so ardently, they will do anything we ask—anything! They experience their most flushed flushing, their most thrilling thrills when we ask them to do for us the one thing we'd never think to do for them: die.

Take this peculiarly (almost wickedly) smitten pig. In exchange for the love of a boy, he will surrender to the caresses of the cleaver.

But the boy is put off by the pig's aggressive affection. The boy might not even want the pig's flayed carcass, hard as that is to believe. The pig's profession of love is frightening, too weighty for the boy's innocent shoulders to carry.

In his fixation, his lusty drive to be killed and eaten, the pig persists. Whose wish will prevail? The boy's, to carry on as before, blameless and unknowing? Or the pig's, to die horribly, his repugnant love finally requited? Thankfully, the valentine leaves the outcome to our imaginations.

(Enjoy our previous celebrations of meaty love, from 2008, 2009, and 2010.)