STORY
"Reflections in the Trough: The Unholy Tale of the Pig NFT Collection"
In the slick digital age, where likes pretend to mean love and filters fake virtue, arose a collection that didn’t lie. The Pig NFT Collection oinked its way into the blockchain—not to offer hope, but to hold up a mirror. A muddy, cracked mirror. These weren’t just pigs. They were reflections of us: the smooth-talking, ego-stroking, secretly greedy animals we dress up in modern clothes. Each snout and belly roll whispered a truth we all bury under inspirational quotes and perfectly staged brunch pics. It’s said that every Pig NFT captures a shard of our collective Darwinian psyche—the ancient survival brain we polish with politeness and corporate smiles. Underneath that skin-deep empathy? Pure, delicious self-interest, bacon-scented and hardwired. One particular NFT, “The Polite Stabber,” shows a pig in a suit offering a hug—with a fork hidden behind its back. Collectors didn’t just laugh; they winced. Because they knew: they’ve done it too. As the collection spread, so did the discomfort. These weren’t feel-good tokens. They were confessions in cartoon form. People began trading not for clout, but to admit they, too, were wolves in pig’s clothing—only chubbier and pinker. Dive in. Stop pretending. The Pig NFTs don’t offer redemption. They offer honesty—and sometimes, that’s the most subversive thing of all.
