The Parable of the Fat Critical Pig

Have you heard the one about the fat critical pig? It’s an age old story that my own grandpa used to tell us as grandkids. Whenever one of us would pester the other about what they were wearing, or perhaps what they were doing, Granpy (you know he was the type of old guy who walked around with knowledge just shooting out of his ears) with those wrinkles, old and crinkly, would sit us down and light a candle, pouring us all a small glass of our favorite orange juice. Then he would begin his tale.

“There once was a town somewhere, at some time---one where pig farming was the thing of the day. There, the pig ranchers would get up early in the morning and ranch those pigs, and the pigs would “oink oink” the whole live long day ya know.

Well there were quite a few pigs out wallowing in the mud one day, as pigs do. While they were wallowing, one of the pigs, a particularly grossly fat and disgusting one began to criticize the other pigs. This putrid smelling bag of cellulite was telling the other pigs that the way that they spoke, just wasn’t right. “You have to annunciate when you oink,” the fat and putrid smelling disgusting creature went on to tell the pigs around it that they should start to think before they spoke, and moreover, that they should just be more like itself. The overweight excuse for a mammal just sat there the whole day, retired from working with the other pigs, or so it said, and it pointed its hoof at the others constantly ridiculing them. This pig sat in its own feces and periodically licked it and ate some of it, ingesting its own feces, because you see children, this pig that was so critical of its fellow pigs liked to eat nothing but its own feces and pig vomit.

The special monthly event for the pigs was the talent show. You know what a talent show is, don’t ya? Children, if ya don’t, well I have to tell you, it was quite a sight to see. All the pigs from the mud would polish up their best act and recite their best verse for the good part of the month before entering the talent show at the end of the month. In fact, the pig talent show was such a big deal that animals from other farms came out to see it.

Well, you can believe that the fat and utterly disgusting pile of feces and vomit that was the critical pig, it just had to be at that show. It had to because it wanted to ridicule and criticize the work of the other pigs, without, of course, doing any of its own work itself. You understand that this disgusting creature was the most uncreative, insecure, and downright pathetic pig that the farm had ever seen, and that is precisely why it sad there in its own seething pig vomit and pig feces, criticizing the others. You see, it was really the only thing that gave this meaningless pig any real sense of life at all.

As with every talent show, the pigs that loved what they did came up on stage and performed their talents. Some sang, some played instruments, some recited poetry and some even acted out short pig plays that they all had mutual interest in, as the pig plays usually addressed some of the key issues in the lives of the pigs on the farm.

But wouldn’t you know it, that critical, meaningless, talentless, fat and disgusting, feces and vomit eating pig, just wouldn’t let it rest. The whole evening as the other pigs were laughing and thoroughly enjoying themselves, this other putrid smelling thing would not let them be and it cast out suggestions and reasons for the pigs to change their behaviors, what they had been singing, as well as what they had written to recite that evening.

Now children, I must tell you that the world of pigs is not like our own. You see in our world, we have laws that will keep us as humans from doing certain things. We have policemen and soldiers that will hopefully come to our aid if we are in grave need of security and safety. However, in the world of pigs, there are no such people. Some pigs may want to bring violence upon the head of another and there will simply be nothing to stop this from happening.

It was less an idea by one of the pigs being ridiculed by the fat criticizing one, than something of a spontaneous reaction by all, which followed. Each pig looked at the other and within the looks that they gave and received, they all seemed to hold an un-oinked agreement. This fat, putrid smelling, perpetually annoying, constantly criticizing, meaningless and talentless creature had to be eliminated.

The first attack on the criticizing pig was a brutal one, but really only a tame precursor for what was to follow. The fed-up pig threw a hoof that connected with the fat critical pig’s face smashing its snout and pushing it sideways, making the side of the snout explode with a gushing stream of blood. The sign of blood, like a blinking green “GO” sign made all the other pigs attack simultaneously. While some brought large sticks with rusted nails pounded into the end, rug knives, switchblades, morning star maces, as well as baseball bats, others just kicked and punched with their hoofs and tore at the putrid smelling, meaningless, fat and disgusting once critical pig.

I mention that the pig was “once critical,” children, because as you can imagine, it took only a little bit of time for the other pigs who had been fed up with this talentless piece of feces and vomit eating filth judging their creative work---to beat the life out of it, bleed it to death and then rip it in more than 50 pieces with their 44 sharp teeth. Each pig smiled at one another as they dined on the once critical pig. After the killing and eating of the fat disgusting critical and talentless pile of cellulite, the other pigs went back to having fun at their talent show. They enjoyed themselves into the evening, laughing and performing their works, reciting and acting, having a jolly old time.”

And after Granpy was done telling his story, and we all had finished our glasses of our favorite orange juice, one of my cousins asked him what the moral of the story was. Granpy paused for a moment, as he would, wanting to give us an intelligent answer that we could take home with us.

“Well, children, I guess the moral of the story is that if you continue to criticize those that are simply trying to enjoy themselves and what they do, thinking that no one will ever feel that they have had enough of you and strive to end your relentless idiocy---well, I guess that is a pretty stupid way to carry yourselves, now isn’t it? The animal kingdom, of which we are all a part, will not bolster such moronic behavior---especially when promulgated by those that have no talent at all. Eventually these critical gross swine will be tore up, eaten and spit out as the waste that they are.”

And with that final note from our Granpy, we all nodded our little heads slowly in unison, more or less, thanking him for telling us the story. We got up and went back to playing together, all the more wiser, and none of us dug at one another in such a self-serving, pseudo-intelligent manner again.