Txoko

Around the world, every tongue tells animals the good news: The end is nigh! Your sentence is almost done! You will soon leave the state to which your nature condemned you—petty life. (Bah!)

In this case, the language is Basque, and the animals have heard the call. They have put on their smartest clothes. Their little jackets, their little caps. The pig has even put on his little wings. Or maybe he got a head start on the death?

Anyway, they're dying or ready to die or freshly dead in their little corner (which is what "txoko" means in Basque, though it also refers to a type of restaurant, or something—we confess we're past caring).

This isn't so much ceremony for the soon-to-be-former "food" animals, as it is a formal occasion, an opportunity to go out with a bang, to say good-bye at last to life (bah!) with dignity. Everything about the image bespeaks dignity and status and rectitude: the coat of arms, the crown, the clothing. These aren't barnyard animals, after all, dumb brutes who wait around to get killed. No, these two seek it out, like they would a cunning investment or fortuitous employment prospect.

(Thanks to Dr. Erika for the referral and the photo.)