Friday, July 12, 2013

what's your sign?

Mexicans are carnivores.

I have met some Mexican vegetarians.  But, then, I have also met a Communist or two with a sense of humor.

When most Mexicans sit down for lunch or dinner, you can bet pork, chicken, beef, fish, or goat pieces will adorn the meal.  Even though they do not eat as much meat as we people up north, Mexicans appreciate various animal parts.

You can get a taste for how Mexicans look at animals as sources of food.  Take a look at that angry pullet from the photograph at the top of this post.  (I won't even mention that "el tunco" -- the cripple -- is essentially a gimp joke.)  All designed to elicit an illicit chuckle.  No PETA pretension here.

While I was out shooting photographs of Mexican paint the other day, I noticed the number of whimsical butcher signs in my neighborhood.

Butcher shops are almost as common as beauty parlors around here.  And that seems to be a rather natural ratio wherever I visit in Mexico.  But some flights of fancy are just plain fun about local eating habits.

Take a look at this pirate treasure chest.  Anyone who thinks the British have a sardonic sense of humor has never run across a Mexican muralist making mock of the three basic food groups.

But these are my favorites.  They adorn a new shop that is yet to open in our own Gringo Gulch (or Canuck Gulch, to be more accurate).

This little piggy has gone to market, and apparently has had some second thoughts.  "I don't remember Babe ending like this."

Whoever painted the pig had a great sense of humor leaving the beach scene floating over the head of the porcine Marie Antoinette.  Memories of frolics soon to be past.

Or how about this joyous cow?  Take a good look at the painting.  Do you see two oddities?  Other than the cow's schmoo impression.

MEAT MARKET?  In English?  In Melaque?

I completely missed that when I was photographing.  There is no doubt about the shop's target demographic.

And that makes the second oddity even -- well, odder.  A cow with blue eyes?  I will leave it to the Jungians amongst you to discern the psychological archetype at play there.

Or maybe it is just what it seems.  My neighbors finding a little humor in the grim business of keeping those plates filled.

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