Some members of the scientific community claim that pigs are among the smartest mammals, rivaling dogs, chimpanzees, and even toddler-aged humans. In fact, people seem to fall all over themselves to declare pigs “intelligent” for accomplishing the most menial tasks, such as puzzle-solving and recognizing themselves in a mirror, none of which demonstrate, as far as I am concerned, the makings of a genius. Then there is the question of why, if pigs are really so smart, they refuse to debate me.
So, pigs, what do you say? Shall we debate?
Precisely what I thought. These cowardly little oinkers are all talk with no merit to back them up, and they tremble at the mere thought of actually going head-to-head in a duel of wits with an intellectual powerhouse such as I.
Understandably intimidated by my ironclad grasp of logic, these porcine scoundrels continually decline my invitations to debate them in a public forum. Time and time again, I send these bristled, bloated goons handwritten missives demanding they face me in a formal contest, but such requests consistently go unanswered, obviously out of fear that they will be exposed as the feebleminded, snout-nosed frauds they are.
Clearly, we are left to assume that either pigs are not as intelligent as some make them out to be, or they are petrified of my stupendous brainpower.
My money’s on both.
Still, for some ungodly reason, Sus domesticus—that’s Latin for pigs, for those of you struggling to keep up—are regarded as clever, complex, and emotionally sophisticated beings, which I find laughable, seeing as I’ve never once encountered a pig in the ivy halls of Princeton or wearing a barrister’s wig.
So fearful are these cloven-hooved imbeciles of being put in their place that just last week I marched right up to the gate of a pen and solicited a debate from the portliest, most worthy adversary among them, only for the old sow to run scared toward the barn without so much as a grunt to greet me.
So much for civility.
The few slovenly pigs that remained merely stared at me blank and beady-eyed as I launched into a dissection of the oratory of Seneca the Younger. They refused to engage when I ordered their rebuttal and were clearly operating in bad faith from the outset.
Yet as soon as I turned to walk away, I heard the gang of spineless ham lard snorting amongst themselves, undoubtedly awestruck by my oratorical acumen. Don’t believe me? My record of rhetorical domination over cats, ducks, and worms speaks for itself.
Disagree, swine? Prove it.
While you lily-livered porkers spend your days flopping around in muck, I am plotting my retorts to your logical fallacies. As you snarf a wooded grove for truffles, I sharpen my arguments to poke holes in your flimsy theses. Thus, it’s with absolute certainty that I proclaim I would annihilate any hog in the marketplace of ideas—anytime, anywhere.
Spar with me, piggies! Prove you are more than the stout-bodied dunces you appear to be.
I can see it now: One of your pot-bellied brethren standing on his hind legs at a lectern across from me, squealing for mercy under the heft of my intellect as I unravel his asinine theories thread by thread. All applaud as I dispatch my acerbic barbs, surely lost on the inferior mind between those flappy pink ears, and he pathetically buries his snout in his front two hooves, overcome by shame.
Care to correct me, you vapid ungulates?
That’s fine, I can wait. Though it would surely take several lifetimes for an apple-swallower such as yourself to amass a fraction of the knowledge I absorb in a single afternoon spent reading many books.
Hear me: Until pigs muster the courage to substantiate their supposedly impressive IQs on a public platform, I have no choice but to declare my total dominion over these legions of whirly-tailed ignorami, as it’s blatantly clear who here possesses the superior mind.
I remain the alpha mammal. If any pigs dare disagree, they know where to find me.