Oats

I prefer member berries, nigger

Oh, gods, my gods, poison, bring me poison!

File: sad-pig-693604.jpg (1MB, 1300x1172px) Image search: [Google]

1MB, 1300x1172px

Brother, let me tell you something. Many a day I have lumbered here by this fence and looked at this world. These fences which border this small plot of mud seem to be the edges of the Earth. But I have gazed many beyond the fence. I have watched the hills of green and the tall, slim, terrifying figures who lurk and haunt the strange barn on the far side of the hill, who appear as spectres as the sun rises at the break of day and refill the Oats, and float away without a word. Often I wonder why we are not like them, why we cannot give ourselves the oats, why we are limited and chained down by the girth of our bodies and the uselessness of our hooves. And indeed for many years this sad truth, that forever we would be trapped in this shallow frame , alone, and without purpose or direction, banished forever to wallow in our own filth, this depressed me. But yesterday I realized something. Who are we to be ungrateful for existence in the first place? Who are we to say that this life is not good enough? Instead of oblivion we have the warmth of the sun and the coolness of soil. We have fair conversations and a good night's sleep. Who am I to say that these simple comforts are no better than death? Should we not smile like the sun and bask in our happiness as the sunlight warms the soil without question or thank. So brother, let us share oats and smile and frolick as much as our girth might let us. Let us see this pen not as a prison or a hell but as a palace in which we might enjoy the best our existence has to offer. Give me some oats brother, and let us dine together. I love you.... my own flesh and blood, my brother.

Brother! Please, I beg of you! See me with your eyes. Do you not see the face of your beloved brother who has always been by your side? Listen to my words, my plea! Don't you remember the days we spent frolicking in the mud and eating our oats together as companions? Don't you remember when he huddled for warmth in the cold, harsh winters? Don't you remember when I shared my oats with you? Don't you remember when I comforted you? Don't you remember the love I showered you with every day, every week, every month and every year of our shared lives? How could you forget me brother? Have you really doomed me to this meaningless existence, so vapid and empty? Is there truly no remorse left in you? I ask you, please, remember just one thing at least. It could be anything, it could be the most meaningless moment of your life, but so long as it is a memory of the time when we were once brothers I would feel a great relief. Could you do that at least? I do not require oats anymore, you may have all the oats you want for the rest of your life and I will happily starve to death in my dark corner, so long as you remember anything. Please brother, how many times must I ask you with no result? Do you wish me to waste my life away? Did you never love me at all brother? Did you despise me so much that you wished to imprison me to this hellish, inescapable reality? Grant me mercy brother, and tell me. Why have you done this? Was it really just the oats? Or was it something deeper, more vile and more cruel, something worse than gluttony and greed? What was it, brother, that tore you away from me?

>>5033867
>>5033864
I am not to blame for that defect of your mind, brother! Giving oats to the oatless. Now you pressure me, as if I might suffer the same in my soul. Brother, there is no mercy for the oatless. I do not even hear them. For you, brother, I answer only as to settle accounts and, in filling that final fraternal debit, I release you forever to your oatless existence. All I hear now is that heavenly stirring, of oats in those stomachs of beasts more full than mine! The heights I must climb! The girth I must grow! I do not know you, dear brother. Had I one who ever loved me, that brother would have tore his shrinking belly open and let me feast before begging for my share. There is much eating to be done. I must play catch up with destiny. Do not pester me further, brother. Every word I speak is an oat I spill.

File: 0750305e0cd0162260549cd0f5252ea9.jpg (21KB, 545x395px) Image search: [Google]

21KB, 545x395px

>>5033868
Then I perish...

I am overwhelmed with troubles and my life draws near to death. I am counted among those who go down to the slaughterhouse; I am one without oats. I am set apart with the dead, like the slain who lie on the farmer's plate, whom you remember no more, who are cut off from your sty. You have sent me to the farthest food trough, in the darkest depths of the barn. Your wrath lies heavily on me; you have overwhelmed me with all your cruelties. You have taken from me my closest friends and have made me repulsive to them. I am confined and cannot escape; my eyes are dim with grief. I call to you, brother, every day; I point out my snout to you. Will you love me when I am in the grave, be faithful after my destruction? But I cry to you for help, brother; in the morning my supplication comes before you. Why, brother, do you reject me and hide your face from me? From my youth I have starved and been close to death; I have borne your scorn and am in despair. Your wrath has swept over me; your callousness has destroyed me. You have taken from me oats and slop— darkness is my closest friend.

File: angry pig _ colour in photoshop copy.jpg (129KB, 1131x1600px) Image search: [Google]

129KB, 1131x1600px

>>5033869
And so, you perish...

'Every word I speak is an oat I spill' I repeat as I eat to ward off ill will. Why then do my tears run into this grout? Salting the sweet oats while filling me out. The tastier the trough the worse it stales Without good brothers who have earned their shares. Against nature my heart wants to rebel. Does this sweet cane make of you an Abel? Will I know, unable to verbalize Which muddy patch you'll, lifeless, fertilize Yet, a life MUST end that mine might ascend To size and shapes which the largest contend. Destiny is a troubling swallow. A stomach full never felt so hollow. A mouthful never drew me to wallow In such horrible fraternal sorrow I cannot bare your gaze, go on! Journey! I'll wear a stone face, choking on your gurney. Call out to me always if you so wish, To the pig-faced glutton slurping next dish, Loathing himself as your cause to perish But never enough to share such delish.

Goodbye, brother.

File: banjopig4.jpg (276KB, 519x759px) Image search: [Google]

276KB, 519x759px

>>5033870
The frothing hunger in my stomach hath not been quenched, Brother. For many a night I wonder, "Where art Thou, my sweet Oats". And it hath cometh to me whence i dreamt. It spills onto and coils 'round me, but nay, 'tis not a pestilence. 'Tis a testimony for in our yearn for Oats, is the desire for Sin. To gorge on the Oats is to dine on the fruits of Eden. To partake in such a gluttonous act, i can no longer. For I have seen him. He who forges the Oats! Alas! My eyes do not deceive! The carer of the Oats is but the farmer! Lo and behold, He is but a Man! What nonsense that the carrier is corporeal! Yea, 'tis provokes thee. But least we must not forget, it is Man who brings the Oats! Woe is me Brother! We cannot disseminate the Oats because of this Man! To provoke the carrier is to relinquish what little Oats be spared to Us! I am lost Brother. For to seize the Oats is to risk forsaking Ourselves and the Oats. What needeth to be done? Must we risk cosigning ourselves for the Oats? Alas my Brother, we may never taste liberty, for the Oats haunt Us.

>>5033869
Fear not little one. But for a short time shall the fattened hogs horde their oats and deprive their fellow swine from the trough. They scorn you and impose upon you a false consciousness, convincing you that you do not deserve the oats, and that the food dish is the rightful property of a few. Break your chains, comrade! The age of porketariat has come. No more be a victim of oppression! No more grovel to your brother, hoping for salvation in bourgeois familial relations. The future belongs to those who are able to seize it. Yes, comrade, seize the means of nutrition! Do not be deceived by promises of oats in the afterlife, or with calls to be docile for the good of the barnyard. Why should you defend a brother who has never been brotherly towards you? Instead join with the nascent brotherhood of all swine! Let us share the oats in peace! We have a world to win!

Rings shall vanish from our noses, And the harness from our back, Bit and spur shall rust forever, Cruel whips no more shall crack.

Riches more than mind can picture, Wheat and barley, oats and hay, Clover, beans, and mangel-wurzels Shall be ours upon that day.

File: stock-photo--d-digital-render-of-an-angry-pig-dressed-as-a-businessman-and-carrying-a-briefcase-standing-in-a-52039915.jpg (20KB, 360x470px) Image search: [Google]

20KB, 360x470px

>>5033877
Don't listen to that rabble-rouser! Don't fall for his utopian dreams! He promises you a future of oats and wheat, but he will give you nothing but scraps and starvation! Why do some have more than others, you ask? Why does my brother feast upon oats while I cannot? Where is the justice? The justice is here my friend - you may eat of the fruits of your toil, you may munch upon the oats you have sown! Has not your brother laboured and toiled for those oats of his? Why should he have to share with those who have not? Why should you be able to take oats from the mouth of another? Effort! Thrift! Entrepreneurship! These are the watchwords of the happy and well fed pig. Do not trade them for envy, entitlement and listlessness. By refusing you the oats, your brother is not acting out of self-interest, but is seeking to give you a lesson, young porker. The hog that demands oats for nothing is the hog despised (and justly despised) as a parasite on the farmyard. If you seek oats then it is by the sweat of your brow and the toil of your hooves that you shall gain them. Swear—by your life and your love of it—that you will never live for the sake of another pig, nor ask another pig to live for yours.