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      Title: Pigs in Paradise

      Subtitle: a fairy most absurd

      Author: Roger Maxson

      First edition

      Year of publication: 2021

      ISBNs EPUB: 9788835429104 PRINT: 9788835429111

      Publisher name: Tektime

      Cover Design: Adam Hay Studio

      Clauses

      All rights reserved

      All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, scanning, or otherwise without written permission from the publisher. It is illegal to copy this book, post it to a website, or distribute it by any other means without permission.

      Fiction

      This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author's imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.

      Moral rights

      Roger Maxson asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.

      External content

      Roger Maxson has no responsibility for the persistence or accuracy of URLs for external or third-party Internet Websites referred to in this publication and does not guarantee that any content on such Websites is, or will remain, accurate or appropriate.

      Designations

      Designations used by companies to distinguish their products are often claimed as trademarks. All brand names and product names used in this book and on its cover are trade names, service marks, trademarks and registered trademarks of their respective owners. The publishers and the book are not associated with any product or vendor mentioned in this book. None of the companies referenced within the book have endorsed the book.

      Additional clauses

      The following are excerpted under fair use, “Nobody Loves Me but My Mother” by B. B. King; “If I had a Hammer” by Pete Seeger; “Danke Schoen” English lyrics by Milt Gabler; “I’m Henry the VIII, I Am” by P.P. Weston. Gospel songs in public domain or not copyrighted, “I’ve Got That Joy, Joy, Joy Down in my Heart,” “I’ll Fly Away,” and “Bringing in the Sheaves.” Lastly, hints of “Imagine” by John Lennon.

      Regarding permission to use the lyrics to “We Shall Overcome” by Pete Seeger, et al., all reasonable efforts were made to contact the copyright holders. If, however, anyone who believes their copyright to be infringed is welcome to contact the author/publisher to remedy this issue. I consider the above song a gift.

      For Chloe

      What is wrong with inciting intense dislike of a religion if the activities or teachings of that religion are so outrageous, irrational or abusive of human rights that they deserve to be intensely disliked?

      Rowan Atkinson

      Preface

      After spending nine years writing Pigs in Paradise, following four years of research, trepidation, and fear of failure, I decided to self-publish because I did not want to delay instant gratification and overnight success any longer. Another reason to self-publish was that I wanted to publish my book, the one I wrote.

      Pigs in Paradise, a fairy story most absurd, is a political satire, literary and funny, too, says I. If the novel seems a little long, there is a reason for that. It is an exercise in freedom of expression, and freedom from religion, a critique of religion in politics, namely American evangelicalism. The idea for the novel started to take shape in 2007. Influenced by George Orwell’s Animal Farm, I found my mission, or it found me.

      Being religious is a condition chosen for the individual born into one before a child has a choice or an option. I do not ridicule religious people, per se. I do unto religious leaders, though, as they do unto others, and have a good time doing it.

      Someone’s religious label is chosen for the individual. Quite often, the religious label depends on where one is born. If someone is born in India, it is reasonable to assume that that person will be Hindu. Likewise, if someone is born in Pakistan, that person is fucked.

      In the infidel West, there is a smorgasbord of religious choice. In the United States, there are Protestant persuasions, Baptist congregations from the north or south, Presbyterians, Lutherans, Methodists, and Episcopalians. There is a close cousin, the Catholic church, and let us not forget the Mormons of the Church of Latter-Day Saints of Jesus. Competition is good, and every stripe or persuasion hates the other. Today, a pressing issue runs through the archdiocese of the American Catholic Church. Bishops ponder whether the American Catholic president should be given communion because of his position on abortion. As if anyone cares what these pedophiles think. They have become old, worn-out, irrelevant, the way of all religions today.

      Today, thank goodness, more “nones” are born than nuns or born agains. More “nones” in more non-religious households means hope, a promise of good things to come. As more of these young “nones” move up the ranks and into positions of political power, they’ll save the world from its course of self-destruction from guns, greed, climate change, a promise, and a prayer of a better life up yonder. Until that time, however, we have what we have and must do what we can to ward off the evil done by the religious or, rather, the ridiculous. I hope I have done my part, if only in a small way. What is a fairy story? Talking animals. What is absurd? Talking animals led to religion.

      Roger Maxson

      1

      Out on Highway 61

      On an Israeli farm on the Egyptian border, a Jersey cow gave birth to what appeared to be a red calf of biblical proportion. Muslims from the village that overlooked the Israeli farm shouted and pointed with a great deal of consternation. Several men held their heads while others wrung their hands and moaned and scurried back and forth. The call went out for afternoon prayers.

      Meanwhile, on the Israeli side, there was a hush over the land, a collective breath was taken, followed by the rush of people as they flocked to the farm just south of Kerem Shalom to witness what possibly could be the miracle that would surely usher in the Messiah and with him the end of the world. Jews and Christians alike gathered around the property fence at their respective places, depending on who they were. And regardless of who they were, Christian or Jew, all were beside themselves with emotion.

      One orthodox Jew jumped for joy. “We’re saved! The world is coming to an end,” he sang a little immodestly. He checked himself and his hat.

      Stanley, the black Belgian stallion, trotted out of the barn. He wondered what was all the excitement about. He saw all the people gathering at the property fence, men and women, even children this time. “What’s all this?” he said. “If they think I’m going to put on another show, they’re mistaken.”

      “Not here for you, Stanley,” said Praline, the leader of the Luzein breed. She and Molly tried to graze as their lambs nursed from them, both new mothers with Molly, the Border Leicester, the proud mother of twins.

      “What the–whatever,” he said and trotted out to graze beneath the olive trees.

      In the middle of the pasture, under the sun and God and heaven, the Jersey nursed her newborn calf. This was no ordinary calf, but truly a red calf that nursed from the teats of a mere Jersey. “It’s a miracle,” someone shouted. “Someone, call a rabbi.”

      “Please,

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