My saucer-like eyes followed the farmer as he hauled the squealing piglet up by the legs, swung it around, and smashed its baby skull into the side of the barn. My face slackened with horrified fascination as the process repeated and the dirty little bodies of limp pigs piled up in the corner. My stomach flipped but I watched; a sense of something like pride welled up inside me. I thought, ‘It’s okay. I don’t eat this. So...