You've no doubt heard the expression "A picture is worth a thousand words." These pictures are worth far more than that. I am posting them here with permission from my Facebook friend and fellow vegan, Catherine Garneau. Catherine took these photographs of forlorn pigs on their way to the slaughterhouse and the images are absolutely tragic. Everybody who eats pork or bacon or ham or any other parts of pigs ought to study these images carefully. For these are the faces of the suffering caused by people making bad choices. This photo essay speaks volumes that no words could possibly capture. We owe a tremendous debt to Catherine and others who help us to see suffering animals. Such powerful images tear down the wall of denial that people build around themselves, one brick at a time. (A heartfelt thank you to Catherine Garneau for allowing me to repost her photographs here!)
"One could not stand and watch very long without becoming philosophical, without beginning to deal in symbols and similes, and to hear the hog squeal of the universe. Was it permitted to believe that there was nowhere upon the earth, or above the earth, a heaven for hogs, where they were requited for all this suffering? Each one of these hogs was a separate creature. Some were white hogs, some were black; some were brown, some were spotted; some were old, some young; some were long and lean, some were monstrous. And each of them had an individuality of his own, a will of his own, a hope and a heart's desire; each was full of self- confidence, of self-importance, and a sense of dignity. And trusting and strong in faith he had gone about his business, the while a black shadow hung over him and a horrid Fate waited in his pathway. Now suddenly it had swooped upon him, and had seized him by the leg. Relentless, remorseless, it was; all his protests, his screams, were nothing to it - it did its cruel will with him, as if his wishes, his feelings, had simply no existence at all; it cut his throat and watched him gasp out his life. And now was one to believe that there was nowhere a god of hogs, to whom this hog personality was precious, to whom these hog squeals and agonies had a meaning? Who would take this hog into his arms and comfort him, reward him for his work well done, and show him the meaning of his sacrifice?"'
- Upton Sinclair, The Jungle (1906)