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All the other male pigs on the farm were porkers. The best known among them was a small fat pig named Squealer, with very round cheeks, twinkling eyes, nimble movements, and a shrill voice. He was a brilliant talker, and when he was arguing some difficult point he had a way of skipping from side to side and whisking his tail which was somehow very persuasive. The others said of Squealer that he could turn black into white. (2.2)
Squealer is a one-pig propaganda machine: he takes the unpleasant realities (no food, pigs sleeping in beds) and turns them into delicious lies (lots of food; piggies resting their brains to better help you). Also, we kind of wish we could win arguments by swishing our tails.
"Comrades!" he cried. "You do not imagine, I hope, that we pigs are doing this in a spirit of selfishness and privilege? Many of us actually dislike milk and apples. I dislike them myself. Our sole object in taking these things is to preserve our health. Milk and apples (this has been proved by Science, comrades) contain substances absolutely necessary to the well-being of a pig. We pigs are brainworkers. The whole management and organization of this farm depend on us. Day and night we are watching over your welfare. It is for YOUR sake that we drink that milk and eat those apples." (3.14)
Dear Shmoopers, it's so hard to have to eat all of this delicious chocolate cake. We really wish you could have it. But we need it, because otherwise we simply don't have the energy to Shmoop Animal Farm. It's for your benefit, really. Trust us.
"Comrades," he said, "I trust that every animal here appreciates the sacrifice that Comrade Napoleon has made in taking this extra labour upon himself. Do not imagine, comrades, that leadership is a pleasure! On the contrary, it is a deep and heavy responsibility. No one believes more firmly than Comrade Napoleon that all animals are equal. He would be only too happy to let you make your decisions for yourselves. But sometimes you might make the wrong decisions, comrades, and then where should we be? Suppose you had decided to follow Snowball, with his moonshine of windmills– Snowball, who, as we now know, was no better than a criminal?" (5.19)
Gee, Squealer paints a dire picture. Like, maybe if they'd decided to follow Snowball, they'd … have a windmill. That would just be terrible.