"We once watched a farmer catch a hen for dinner. The rooster rushed over angrily to defend her, barking flapping attacking the farmer with beak and wings. Farmer laughed and said "look, he's protecting his wife!" then slaughtered the hen while the rooster watched, bobbing its head. By the time the hen was chopped into pieces and cooked into soup, the rooster had lost track of identity and its understanding of life, and it joined us in picking at the remains of chicken guts on the floor."


Dónde está el baño?

- Frida Kahlo