14 March 2006

here piggy piggy piggy

It was while reading Snowball's latest update when I decided to give my bitter inner pig a poke.





I may have some personal experience in the matter of my arteeeestic creation. I can neither confirm nor deny such rumors. Suffice it to say that back in the day an air conditioned (freezered, but why pick nits?) job wasn't such a terrible thing, nor was great pay, nor was not getting fired (whew) for bringing a feather duster and an egg in onto the slice pak line after break, then popping the duster out the back of my whites and dropping the egg onto the belt with a mighty BAWK! to goad a possible coworker after he may or may not have called us summer employee girls "a bunch of chickens" for all the gabbing we did.

I happen to be of the belief that if I cannot face handling the various stages of food items I put into my body I should not put the items into my body. Idealistically I'd like to think that I could hunt and gather every item I eat, with the primary focus aimed particularly upon the 'hunt' part of the combination. That 'can you kill what you eat?' question seems to really weed out the sissies in the crowd, doesn't it? Sure, it's one thing to SAY it but man it's a whole 'nother thing to lop off a head. Or to gut a fish ... have you ever done that? Eew. Messy.

I have nothing but respect for my vegetarian and vegan friends and kin, but I am an omnivore (even moreso during those horrid pmstrual times. I dare you to take these sweet and delicately salty pork flavored chocolate dipped strawberries from my grubby hands. Go ahead. Try it.) I do eat meat. I consider myself absolutely lucky that there are others willing to do the unpleasant work of killing the beast on which I later will feast, and don't think for a moment that I don't have deep gratitude for the animal, and to the universe, for the sacrifice. And I may or may not have been one of those people who worked within the unpleasant work process to bring prettily packaged pounds of processed pig to your local retailer's shelves.

But there are precious few things that are fair and balanced in our funky little sphere, and if having a supervisor walk out of his office while I'm flapping my make-believe wings at a 55 year old skeeve means I manage to get by and to get through one more asunder-setter, then I can darn well draw my pig hoofin' it right on into the O.M. plant. (I'm sure I'll spoil all his fun, but if you're not interested in drawing a pig for your own self (shame on ya, it's just for fun!) the password into the gallery is 'oink'. There's a big surprise, eh?)

12 March 2006

masks


“Your joy is your sorrow unmasked. The deeper that sorrow carves into your being, the more joy you can contain. When you are joyous, look deep into your heart and you shall find it is only that which has given you sorrow that is giving you joy." -- Kahlil Gibran

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