If you rolled your eyes and said, duh, "consent," you win. Bonus style points if you pointed out the juxtaposition of the FLDS people, carefully depicted as neatly dressed ladies gently shepherding their lovely, teddy bear-clutching charges, with the ambiguously gendered S&M couple in the foreground; the stippling on the asscheeks and legs of the figure facing away from the viewer suggests just a little that they're not only into masks and cattle prods but are gay too for good measure.
I'm sure if Mr. Fairrington had just a little more space on his canvas, he would have shown the inbred 50-year-old men marching the little girls into the temple bed for their ceremonial first banging while the rest of the gomers stand around watching, portraying the contradiction between appearance and substance within that FLDS culture and the disconnect between the same within our mainstream culture--and the irreconcilable friction between the two, and the immense difficulty faced by children raised within one sphere who will now have to navigate the other--with nuance and sensitivity, rather than going for the easy knee-jerk kink-bashing and gay-bashing fallback.
Or maybe not.
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