Saturday, August 30, 2008

Smokin' Pigs BBQ Team

A more troubling abuse of power we have not seen in a long while. These two good ol' boys (of the pig persuasion) flout traffic laws for what is distinctly personal business. They flash their tin stars, turn on the gumball machine, and make everyone get out of the way.

Their "emergency"? They're late to a funeral: their own. It's like cashing in your life insurance while you've still got time to enjoy the money. Such dedication to the art of dying!

And what of the dog? It is a curious phenomenon. Humanoid pigs (they wear clothes, they drive cars, they have jobs—yet they will nevertheless be eaten) have a regular animal animal for a pet. The dog in the bed of the pickup is just a dog. His tongue lolls as he enjoys the simple beastly pleasures of riding into the wind.

And may we point out the howls of protest that would ensue were a vegetarian outfit to equate law enforcement officers with pigs?

Thursday, August 28, 2008

Hottest Chick -n- Wing Festival

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?

Tuesday, August 26, 2008

Jurassic Pork

Shove your head through a couple plate glass windows and this will all make perfect sense.

Until then, however, you're on your own.

This thing is a jumble of conflicting symbolism: is Jurassic pork big and gamy? Is it just really, really old?

Its one suicidefoodistically pure element, naturally, is the theme of the Submissive Dominant (last seen in this manly example). To refresh your memory—so many lofty concepts to assimilate!—the Submissive Dominant is a depiction of the targeted animal as a superpredator, giant, or invincible being who, nevertheless, wants to be killed. The Submissive Dominant is the ultimate shill for the abattoirs, the Movement's ace in the hole.

In this case, a Jurassic therapod (we assume it's T. rex, although T. rex lived in the Cretaceous and didn't sport a Puff the Magic Dragon tail) has melded with a pig. And how does P. rex express his physical superiority? Does he chase down humanity like so much puny prey?

No, silly. He grabs a knife and fork, becomes the mascot of the barbecue team, and waits patiently for his turn on the spit. In fact, far from exercising his prerogative as a killing machine, P. rex has really let himself go. His gut hangs down over his scaly waist and he probably smells of booze even when he rolls out of bed at noon.

Bonus: A glimpse of P. rex's back.

Sunday, August 24, 2008

Burger King Cheesy Bacon Tendercrisp

Warning: The following discussion could lead to brain damage.

A certain recent advertisement has the power to send impotent rationality back to its hated realm.

Shocking disclosure: The ad is for a Burger King product.

Who would have thought Burger King, of all animal-adoring institutions, would inspire a degenerate advertisement?

The commercial in question is a shrine dedicated to debasement. Hogs scampering smilingly onto the killing floor? Chickens volunteering for target practice? Steers enamored of their own enslavement? Ho-hum. What commonplace perversion. We have opened files on hundreds of those animals.

No, Burger King gives us a real pro, a true believer, a hard-core devotee of the suicidefoodist movement. On to the commercial:

A nebbishy nobody enjoys a burger in his car at the local Makeout Point. He is alone. This is merely the first horrific detail. (Does he love his sandwich? You know, love love it? Sexually?) Before we can ponder that for too long, a cow appears in the headlights. The man is nervous. The cow is an avenging spirit, sent to cast the cow-eater into fiery torment for his vicious crimes against—

No. She's there because she's… jealous. The man has betrayed her trust by having sex with eating the meat of another. Yes, the cow's rage is the rage of the jilted lover. Hell hath no fury like a woman cow scorned uneaten. Aglow with righteousness, she exacts vengeance by ramming the man's car—with him in it—over a cliff.

To make sure you get the right message, the announcer intones: "Chicken so good, you'll cheat on beef."

This is the vilest conflation of sex and violence we have ever seen. There's nothing for us to do now but vomit.

(Thanks to Drs. Jared and Mary for the referral.)

Friday, August 22, 2008

Porkin in the Park

The innocent joys of young love!

Yes, these youthful sweethearts—the boyish boar and the shy sow—remind us of simpler times. Of rustic swings and first kisses. Of the early glimmerings of romance, when—

Wait a minute!

Porkin' in the park?

Just what is going on here?! Why must the meat-feeders continually do this—confuse sex and violence, all while dredging up the most untoward imagery and associations?

This image is a signpost at the intersection of the carnal and the, well… the carnal. Lust (park-based fornication) and butchery reimagined as a single, amoral force. This is the world the suicidefoodists bequeath to us: a world of power, subjugation, and spicy sauce. Sex is death, death is sex, and when we kill pigs, they have the time of their lives!

Wednesday, August 20, 2008

CJ Reid Pork Suppliers

Yes, the illustration is gruesome. Yes, the miniature pigs cavorting at the feet of the mammoth pig are unsettling. Yes, the flagrant shirtlessness of all three is almost too much to bear.

But it's the subtext we are most concerned with.

We are privy to a sacred moment: the very instant when a reprehensible culture is transmitted from one generation to the next. (We've had the "privilege" of witnessing this rite before.)

An adult pork-supplying pig (note the baggy physique and the maturity-connoting long trousers) instructs the piglets (see the short pants?) in the Way Things Are.
"Kids, we're pigs. Or, as I like to say, 'pork suppliers.' And our job is to provide the bacon makers—hallowed be their name—with all the pork they need. Keep eating, and one day your pork will end up in bacon products distributed all over Australia! Your mother and grandparents (rest their souls) would be so proud!"
This is how it happens.

Youth learns at the knee of Wisdom. Literally—each little one is clinging to a knee.

And the culture continues, perpetuated one lie at a time.

Monday, August 18, 2008

WPLR's Eat the Meat II

They will advertise their palatability. They will debase themselves by singing jingles. They will cajole you, coax you, dare you. We have seen all of these ploys and more. The suicidal animals of the world have a bristling arsenal of techniques for attaining their own grisly deaths and dismemberments.

And then there's Uncle Chicken here, the third personality of the raucous Chaz and AJ show.

This ambitious "food" animal has taken to the airwaves to broadcast his depraved philosophy of self-negation. More than that, he has embarked on a career to spread his message! (This is the second Eat the Meat wing eating competition, after all.)

We can only assume that buses in the greater Milford (Connecticut) area sport ads showing Uncle Chicken in a red-white-and-blue top hat, finger pointed right at the viewer, above the legend "I want you! To tear my wings off! And eat them! For fun!"

Do not be fooled by Uncle Chicken's tidy appearance—the blazer, the bow-tie, the cuff links. Look deeper. All the way to his rotten core.

Saturday, August 16, 2008

Bad Bob's

Save us from hostile food!

Even more than the simpering animals we encounter now and then—the creatures over-eager to serve by being devoured—the aggressive pigs and steers are just… tiresome.

He's "bad." He's got a pirate/biker-style earring. He uses nonstandard spelling.

Oh, please. What transparent posturing.

For all his amoral, outsider machismo, he is—did you forget?—advertising the chance for barbecue enthusiasts to, you know, eat him. To latch their jaws on his ribs. To enact the brutal drama of life after casting him in the role of victim. Pawn. Object. Thing. Mere stuff. The doomed, defeated, utterly dominated, and possessed. The great faceless foundation upon which other lives are built.

It takes a tough pig to sell himself out so thoroughly.

(Thanks to Dr. Bea for the referral.)

Thursday, August 14, 2008

Special Report: Pig Logo Exposé 5

The march of derivative pig cartoons—relentless as the tide—waits for no one.

While we fritter away our time with new offenses in suicidefoodism's war with rationality, copycat logos accrete, building themselves into a bulwark from which other battles are waged.

After four installments of this series (here, here, here, and here), we return with Pig Logo Exposé 5.

(Left to right, by row: Independence Brew-B-Q, Archie McPhee bacon-themed novelty merchandise, Pig Daddy's BBQ, Ribs Royale, Safeway's National Capital BBQ Battle, Walking Taco.)

What a bizarre mishmash of images! We always knew the pig was the Universal Victim, but here his range is displayed to stunning effect!

Beer-hoisting Everyman, backyard host (with and without hat), gleaming dandy, king burning alive on his own funeral pyre, and (wait for it) Alpine glad-hander complete with lederhosen!

Such versatility! And never forget: Whatever form he takes, whatever social station he assumes, he is always and ever here to be eaten. It is his calling.

Some things remain, hallmarks of the pig to be known from this moment forth as Hiya: semicircular snout-disc, vertical nostrils, hair at the base of the ears, enormous, bulging, smiling cheek.

Please inform us if you encounter additional sightings of Hiya.

(Thanks to Dr. Squeakyrat for the Ribs Royale photo and to Dr. assclown for the Walking Taco photo.)

Addendum (3/01/09): Hiya's back in his seventh appearance, this one for the Lakeland (Florida) Pig Festival.

Addendum 2 (3/07/09): Number 8. But note that Hiya is shilling for an event that happened nearly five years ago. Could this be his earliest appearance?

Addendum 3 (4/19/09): The most lavish rendition of Hiya yet! (Boston Hills BBQ Fest.)

Addendum 4 (1/04/11): Hiya's got a new pair of lederhosen! He's never looked more stricken striking as he represents the Pennsylvania Dutch Farmers Market of Princeton, New Jersey! (Thanks to Dr. Allegra for the referral.)

Tuesday, August 12, 2008


Mr. Genuine Worm has a lesson for us:

All of nature, the ancient plants, the miraculous animals—all of her myriad children!—the entire pageant of That Which Lives! All of it strives to be eaten! By you!

(Okay, "strives" might be a little strong. El Worm is hardly striving to do anything. That's more like "basking." Still, you get the point.)

Hotlix, the "original edible insect candy creator," shares more than worms! Ants, crickets, butterflies, scorpions, and more await your gullet.

These particular animals know that you probably do not wish to eat them. Not because you—ha!—respect them, or experience some sort of (snicker) kinship with them. No, it's not that they are spared. They simply don't make the cut.

Insects, arachnids, and annelids have to try harder.

They must appear cuter. More friendly. Less threatening. This is some major rebranding here. Insects? Creepy? Hardly! When you think insects, think cuddly! Think "man's best friend," so like us, so attuned to our Way of Life. And then you'll want to eat them for sure!

Yes, it is suspect philosophy, but this is hardly news to us.

Whether assuming the form of American icons (again with the American Gothic lookalikes?), chocolate-bathing hot-tubbers, or anything in between, they will do whatever it takes, try on any disguise, if they can only convince you that they deserve to die.

(Thanks to Dr. Josh for the referral and the photo of Genuine Worm.)