Roger Maxson - Pigs In Paradise

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Pigs in Paradise is a satirical novel, political, literary, and funny. An exercise in freedom of expression, it is also a critique of religion in politics, namely American evangelicalism.
When Blaise gives birth to Lizzy, the “red calf” on an Israeli farm, the masses flock en masse to witness the miracle birth that will usher the end of the world and the arrival of the Messiah, or his return, depending on which camp, Christian or Jew. When the promise of the end comes to an end, the red calf blemished, and no longer worthy of blood-letting sacrifice, the faithful the world over are crestfallen. By this time, two evangelical ministers, as representatives of a megachurch in America, have arrived. They strike a deal with the Israeli moshavnik, and the Israeli farm animals are coming to America. 
Meanwhile, Pope Benevolent absolves the Jews, sings karaoke with Rabbi Ratzinger, and Boris the Berkshire boar and animal Messiah is served at the last supper. Not to be outdone, the Protestant ministers hold a nativity pageant, and just before the animals embark aboard ship for America, Mel the mule becomes Pope Magnificant, resplendent with white linen cossack, pectoral cross, and papal red leather slippers. 
Once in America, the animals are transported halfway across the country to Wichita, Kansas, in time for the Passion-Play parade before arriving at their final destination, a Christian farm. Seven television monitors, tuned to 24/7 church sermons, are juxtaposed with scenes from a barn, a real circus. After a while, and no longer able to take anymore, they chase Mel from the barn. And Stanley, Manly Stanley, the black Belgian stallion of legend (wink, wink), kicks out the TV monitors for a moment of silence, giving peace a chance if only for a short time.
Translator: Roger Maxson

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The pigs thought it was a gift from God. After the carcass and dust settled, they scrambled over the pasture to lap up bits and pieces of bone and flesh that had splattered the grass red. Boris, quick on his hooves, scooped up some bone and meaty flesh himself as he continued his ministry. The laborers came out to chase away the others. They remained to prevent vultures from swarming the farm until Perelman told them to leave the vultures alone. Perelman told the laborers that the Griffon Vultures needed all the help they could get to maintain their species. “They need all the help they can get,” Perelman said, “and so do we. Mohammad’s faithful blind have done us a service.”

In his infinite wisdom, they chanted from the hilltop, Allah is both merciful and just, for not allowing the desecration of the true believers from being touched inappropriately in the night by the hands of Satan’s filthy infidel swineherd! And from their joyous reactions to the killing of Bruce, it was apparent to Mel that Bruce had been their intended target all along. “Idiots,” Mel said and retreated to the sanctuary of the barn. Blaise and Beatrice were in their stalls protecting their own while the sheep and goats were folded in prayer in a corner of the sanctuary. Molly, in her stall, nursed her twin lambs. Mel joined Praline huddled in prayer, hiding in her stall.

“Where’s Julius?” Beatrice whispered. “He’s never where you need him.”

“Seriously, Beatrice, what could Julius have done?”

“He’s always flying off somewhere.”

“He’s free to go wherever he likes,” Blaise said. “He is a bird, after all. He’s not one of us. He’s not livestock.”

“No, he’s not.”

To give comfort to all present, Mel conducted church service and led the farm animals gathered together in the recital of “Rules to Live By, the Fourteen Pillars of Wisdom” as he did every night, “1: Man is made in God’s image; therefore, man is holy, Godly.” The animals recited after him, with Praline’s voice above all the others.

Perelman told the laborers, “His meat was ruined already, and he was useless to us anyway. He took up valuable resources.” The pigs squealed with pleasure and ran amok through the pasture as they fought over the remains of flesh and blood in the grass and the dirt, eating what they could find of bone and morsels of meat. Perelman said, “Pigs are omnivores. We can’t expect them to live on the slop and grain we feed them.” As the others had taken cover and scattered about the moshav, the pigs remained vigil and hungry, and devoured all that they could rut scattered over the pasture. “Regardless of the nutritional value and vitamins, it doesn’t matter to them. This is comfort food.”

Trooper and Spotter, the two Rottweilers, fought over the skull and ate what was left of the steer’s brains.

“Juan,” Isabella said, “I don’t want those disgusting dogs in the house tonight, maybe not again, ever.” She turned toward the house without a response.

“What?” they whined, and ran for the barn and to Mel.

Juan Perelman told the three laborers that he was going to expand the dairy operation to both sides of the road. “We’re going to rid ourselves of these animals, sell them off to the Americans.”

“Even the red calf?” The Thai asked.

“What difference does it make? The red calf isn’t red anymore. They want the cow and the calf. Let them have them, the pigs, too, and the sheep. We have all we can manage now with twelve Holsteins and their calves. Besides, getting rid of the pigs should allow us some peace around here. I know it’ll make Isabella more peaceful.”

After the recital, Mel comforted the dogs.

“She didn’t say anything about them,” Spotter whined. “Why do they get special treatment?”

“There, there, it’s all right. You must remember pigs are special, a breed apart, superior to lesser animal forms such as dogs,” Mel said, reassuring Spotter and Trooper. “Pigs are more important than we are. They are procured for human consumption, whereas we are not.”

“They’re scraps for us too!”

“Now, now, boys, remember the pig population is protected, looked upon more favorably than the rest of us lower forms of animal and livestock.”

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