The last time I had a strip of bacon
was August 13, the day before I left for college for my last year
there. It was then that my parents could afford to let me have a
strip. I can't remember when the bacon famine began, but it was
hitting everyone hard. My entire family sat on the floor around a
cardboard box that was all we had, once we sold the table, chairs,
silverware, and microwave to buy the single pigslice. The single
fluorescent light swung gently above use, casting its glow, which the
strip on the box reflected with effulgence. To our family, this strip
of bacon was passed down from the Father, brought down on the wings
of angels, giving a chorus of praise and worship to this almighty
fragment of swine.
Indeed, it was a glorious piece of
bacon: the red parts seemed rigid enough to be crunchy, the pale
slivers cutting a path through the valleys of gracious, rolling red.
The entire swine slice glistened under the fluorescent light, adding
another layer of holiness to the awe-inspiring cut.
The next door neighbors were bound in
the living room; after hearing of our acquisition of the package,
they attempted to steal it. However, my father put a stop to that
before it began, hanging their patriarch out front. Horrid place we
live in where one must murder to keep this treasure.
After fortifying the front entrance, we
turned from the stalkers on the road. The bacon strip called to me,
and I knew it was time. The family looking on, I picked up the slice,
broke off a piece, and put it in my mouth. The flavor hit me
immediately, dizzying me. The pure elation of flavors in my mouth
paralyzed me, with the rest of my strip in hand.
The slice took a half hour for me to
eat fully. Once I ate it, my father went out front with a shotgun,
firing off a single shot. I remember back late in the year 2012, when
this epidemic was simply a “shortage”, a curiosity, a farming
mishap. Nobody expected the pigs were dying, but they were. In order
to damage their masters, and thus lessen the damage done to them,
they committed suicide en masse. This led to the “Great Bacon Race
of '13”, where people rushed to Texas to grab the bacon before it
became scarce. After the bacon baked away, the economy collapsed,
hope vacant from the capitalist system. Now, in the fifth year of the
Bacon Crisis, synthetic bacon is top dollar, and the true bacon piece
I ate legally doesn't exist.
Please, 2012. Don't let this happen.
This is just the beginning. We must unite, for our lives and
livelihoods! We need to save our bacon, both literally and in a
figurative sense! We must continue eating, keeping the pigs away from
cliffs or sharp objects. The future is in us. The future is in bacon.
The future is now.
Paid for by the Organization to Save
Our Bacon.
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