Some Pigs Are Traitors
Posted: September 24, 2012 Filed under: Foolishness | Tags: barbecue, humor, Lexington North Carolina, observations, Pig, postaweek 40 Comments »
Lunch. Get your own.
Pigs have it tough.
They think they’ve got a good deal. Most of them don’t have jobs, someone else feeds them and gives them a place to live. They don’t know that part of the implied contract that got them that deal is that people are going to eat them.
Perspective is everything. When you’re hanging out with your friends and have your head in the trough you can’t see the end coming. Pigs don’t see something else that is despicable and dangerous. If they’d lift their heads and look, they’d see the sad truth.
Some of their kind will be part of that end that is coming.
Like Benedict Arnold…
When pigs are at the trough, they think they’re among friends. That is mostly true. There are exceptions, and they should be ashamed of themselves. These traitor pigs think nothing of leading their “friends” to their ultimate, ultimately tasty, demise.
Perhaps you’re wondering how I know this is true. In the event you are not, this would be the best spot to stop reading.
I haven’t eaten here. I’m sure it is a fine place.The pig makes my point. (image via where I go.com)
It all started on my way to visit my son at school. I remember it like it was this weekend. I stopped for lunch at a barbecue place in Lexington, NC. Lexington is the capital of barbecue in North Carolina. North Carolina is the best place in the world for barbecue. Ergo, Lexington is the barbecue capital of the planet.
As I dined, I took note of the logo of the restaurant.
…If Benedict Had Curly Tail
The logo was based on a picture of a pig wearing a chefs hat.
It wasn’t directly expressed that the pig participated in preparing his brethren for me to consume. The picture implied it. To the pig’s credit, if he smoked and seasoned his friends, he did a fantastic job. I had a plate of chopped ‘que with slaw, fries and hush puppies that was a beautiful experience.
For what it was worth, I opted not to eat the fries. They’re not a healthy food. As I ate, I realized that so many barbecue restaurants hire (or potentially are operated by) these traitor pigs.
Bunch Of Tasty Jerks
Chickens aren’t as innocent as they act. (image via coastal point.com)
You don’t see cattle getting involved in getting people to eat other cattle. Fish don’t sell each other to us. Chickens…well, chickens are a bit like pigs in terms of loyalty to their kind. But at nearly any good pork barbecue joint, a pig seems to be in on the deal.
Pictures of swine in chef’s hats, aprons, or carrying cooking utensils abound in the barbecue restaurant industry. Why would there be so many depictions of pig chefs if they did not exist? These pigs cooks are far from noble. They extend their own lives by shortening those of their kind.
It is an injustice. A shameful sell out. An embarrassment. I can only hope that someone brings these treacherous swine to justice.
Justice, with a vinegar based barbecue sauce and some good slaw. Maybe some banana pudding too.
Tasty, tasty justice.
That’s delicious — no, it’s disturbing. Or delectable. But kind of distasteful. Basically, it’s some kind of adjective that starts with “D”.
A conundrum, whatever means that and starts with D.
That’s right. Hog all the good bbq down there in NC.
That’s the plan. Beware of the SC stuff. Bleah.
It makes perfect sense. Pigs are far superior in intellect (or so I’ve heard) to the other animals but clearly there are some “slow thinkers” even amongst their own kind. This may be their way of separating the chaff from the wheat. It clearly puts pigs in the Ayn Rand, laissez-faire camp of promoting their own self-interests.
Now I’m going to have to eat more of them to try to weed out the greedy ones.
I am thinking that I should be changing my Avatar from my company logo to comment here. I like pigs. I am a friend to pigs https://silkpurseproductions.wordpress.com/2012/07/27/my-pig-shoes/ .
However, I am sorry to say, I will be the one lining up first at the Ribfest when it comes to town.
Don’t be sorry. It isn’t your fault that they chose to have delicious ribs.
What a great story that is. Those were not the shoes I expected.
I thought you were going all political on us with your lead-in about getting free stuff but having to pay for it down the road. I see I was wrong. Nothing like a good BBQ, but in the fears of appearing a traitor, I’d much prefer beef, the way it’s done in Texas. Not that North Carolina doesn’t have good BBQ; just that I’ve never sampled it. One of these days, I’d like to remedy that.
Oh no, politics here. I do have something in the works about elections in general.
There are other exceptional BBQ styles, but none compare.
So what you’re saying is some pigs are more loyal than others?
Yes, and those are the ones we should eat first.
Crazy pigs…even at Chick-fil-a the cows sell out the chickens.
PS: Did you save me your fries?
I saved the fries. The slaw is gone.
The slaw is really gone, not like the bb king song, the slaw is gone.
Now I don’t have to blog about this myself. I have often pondered all of this myself, must be our common genetics.
First of all, I have to whole-heartedly agree about the BBQ in South Carolina. One word: Dogfood!… Or maybe more correctly, Two words: Dog food! The sauce is mustard based for crying out loud! Mustard! I mean, really.
But regarding the traitor pigs in question, you neglected to mention a sub category. Yes, there are the pig-chefs, who despite the deliciousness of their work, should be ashamed. But don’t forget the big-smiled, blue blazer wearing pigs. Not only are the ripping off Porky Pig’s style, the blazers suggest that they are the… and I shudder to even speak the phrase, “Salespeople Pigs”; Pigs that will smile, look you in the eye as they shake your hand and tell you anything you want to hear in order to close the sale.
But of course, they don’t get their hooves dirty themselves. No, they walk around glad-hoofing and schmoozing with the humans, leaving someone else to handle production and supply and acting like their stuff doesn’t stink. Makes me sick. I truly hope that one day, while enjoying a plate of BBQ, I find a tiny brass button in my lunch. It serves them right!
(There was a whole “Holocaust” metaphor I was going to go with originally, but I didn’t want to offend anyone… But the pieces are all there and all fit in place, so I’ll let everyone do that themselves)
You can’t imitate Porky’s style. Sure, anyone can go around in a blazer and no pants, but few can carry it off like he did.
We have common genetics, but there’s nothing common about them.
I’m reminded of the Chick-fil-a ad with the cow wearing a placard that says, “Eat More Chicken. Cows must be smarter than pigs.
True, and more ethical.
You know who has their stuff together? Horses. They got the contract to help herd, so no one wants to eat them.
Except the French.
In a simiar vein, I’ve seen pigs stand in admiration (and yes even swoon) of the human who is causing demise to her kind. I wonder if she’s the traitor or the victim. Could this be stockyard syndrome?
Stockyard Syndrome. Well played. I’m much obliged indeed.
…sure to save a swine whose soul was in need.
Maybe I took away the wrong message but I’m depressed now.
Take heart. People like that eventually are brought to justice. I have to think pigs do too.
Theoretically.
When I was a kid, they had these commercials for Ballard’s pork sausage. There were two crudely-animated pigs (this was probably around 1970): one dressed in overalls, the other in a top hat. I thought it was really creepy that a couple of pigs would be trying to get me to eat them.
Pigs can be very snappy dressers!
Trying to get you to eat them reminds me of the Cluckin’ Chicken video from Saturday Night Live
Eat him, not me! That kind of survival instinct is a bit admirable, I’d say. Besides, why would a fish or a chicken be a spokesperson for a BBQ joint if the best stuff on the menu is pork? I don’t find chicken or fish to be reliable critics of pork. But I do wonder how the restaurant owner decides between a cow spokesperson and a pig spokesperson. Now I’m done wondering about it.
Right, but you don’t ever see a fish with a filet knife on the sign for a fish restaurant either. They don’t throw their friend onto our plates like pigs do.
If pigs could talk, the sneaky ones would be pointing at their friends and saying things like “eat him, he was raised eating nothing but sweet white corn. I bet he is delicious”. Fish? Never.
I’m sorry, but fish spokespersons are no more reliable or credible. Remember Charlie Tuna? “Hey folks, load up the oceans with mercury and eat some tuna!” He’s the most cynical of all spokesanimals.
Charlie was clearly suicidal. He kept trying to get himself hooked. I could have gotten him connected with some services and turned things around.
Once you’ve tasted “lechon” (whole pig roasted on a spit), you’ll view BBQ as a poor, second cousin to “real pig,”
http://www.wisemonkeysblog.com/lechon-wars-on-fraser-street-filipino-roast-pigs-from-chinese-bbqs/
I think I had that in Maryland. There was a huge Filipino community in my home town. The food was great at the parties.
This morning’s news reported an upcoming bacon shortage. So I guess the pigs are stuffin’ their pockets.
See…traitor pigs manipulating the supply side to jack up profits. Dirty pigs!
As a NC native, you’re talking my language about Lexington BBQ. And as a child, an uncle kept three pigs to fatten up for his own meat. He would name them after my sister, cousin, and me. That made it hard to eat the sausage after watching them grow from piglets to hogs and seeing their faces. It’s a conundrum.
Lexington is the place, isn’t it? Are you able to get back there at all? Last time I went I didn’t see any dishes with specific names. I think you’re safe if you want to fall by there again.
Welcome to Blurt!
This post talks about NC BBQ AND uses ‘Ergo’ in a sentence that made me laugh. Actually let me adjust my mood a little bit- I’m really a bit jealous as I’ve never had the opportunity to use ‘ergo’ properly. I just throw it in randomly where it doesn’t belong and hope no one notices
Sometimes you just have to fling ergo about willy nilly. I don’t know why, you just do.