Rindfleischetikettierungsüberwachungsaufgabenübertragungsgesetz means “the law concerning the delegation of duties for the supervision of cattle marking and the labeling of beef.”
1. Food giant Kesko renames meatless balls; now simply "balls"
Meatballs like your mom used to make typically use real cuts of meat. However the industrial variety aims for efficiency – that means that cast-away bits of pork and chicken are usually part of the mix.
However these ingredients cannot be described as meat, so some manufacturers have dropped the “meat” prefix from the product name. Food giant Kesko’s food division Ruokakesko caught up Monday, finally removing the “meat” from the balls to bring the product name in line with the actual item of food.
"Mechanically recovered meat cannot be described as meat. It’s mechanically separated from the bone after the parts that can be defined as meat have been removed from the carcass with a knife," said Ruokakesko’s product research manager Heta Rautpalo.
Some of the company’s product range includes meatballs whose meat content has been defined as zero, according to the packaging information, even though they claim to contain pork and chicken. Rautpalo said the company isn’t looking to mislead consumers.
"These balls (sic) have the equivalent of 52 percent meat. However according to current legislation, they aren’t those parts of the animal that can be described as meat," she explained.
"Discarded bits also worth using"
Rautpalo observed that it’s beneficial to use even the less desirable parts of the animal, as it allows the company to develop low-end products.
"It’s worthwhile to use those ingredients somehow and they are well-suited for use in these kinds of ground meat products," she remarked.
Up to Monday Ruokakesko labeled the product as meatballs on its website. However it changed to simply "balls" during the course of the day.
Lyrics to Canyons Of Your Mind [Spoken]: This is the B side of our platter, sports fans.
And I'm singing just for your coverted sequence.
In the canyons of your mind
I will wander through your brain
To the ventricles of your heart, my dear
I'm in love with you again!
'Cross the mountains of your chest
I will sticker Union Jacks
To the forest of your cheek
Through the holes in your string vest
[Spoken]:My darling, in my cardboard-coloured dreams
(Ooh, cardboard-coloured dreams)
Once again I hear your love
(Ooh, ooh, ooh)
And I kiss, yes I kiss your perfumed hair
(But she's not there)
The sweet essence of giraffe
And each time I hear your name
(Frying pan, frying pan)
Oh! How it hurts
(He's in pain)
In the wardrobe of my soul
(Oh, my soul)
In the section labelled "shirts"
I'd seen poverty before, of course, even incomprehensible poverty, as in the slums outside Maputo, in Mozambique. But I'd never seen anything like this. If what I had seen tonight - house after house after house abandoned, deserted, decaying as if there had been disaster - if this was poverty, then it must be a new kind poverty, maybe in the same way that the wealth that had amassed here in the 20th century had been a new kind of wealth. I had never really understood how a nation that so celebrated the individual could obliterate all differences the way this country did. In a system of mass production, the individual workers are replaceable and the products are identical. The identical cars are followed by identical gas stations, identical restaurants, identical motels and, as an extension of these, by identical TV screens, which hang everywhere in this country, broadcasting identical entertainment and identical dreams. Not even the Soviet Union at the height of its power had succeeded in creating such a unified, collective identity as the one Americans lived their lives within. When times got rough, a person could abandon one town in favor of another, and that new town would still represent the same thing.
Was that what home was here? Not the place, not the local, but the culture, the general?
Tags: Detroit Karl Ove Knausgaard USA
Thursday, February 26, 2015 1:15 PM Jason Kottke
The Vienna dog is all beef and beef fat—the lean meat of domestically raised bulls (not steers), which, Bodman says, has a higher concentration of protein and a more aggressive beef flavor than does cow meat. The cuts of meat, which range from top round to shank to tenderloin, get ground and mixed with water and salt, a daylong brining process that helps to ready the protein for its binding work. It is fundamental to the hot dog; beef fat is rich and flavorful and highly saturated. They take it from two special cuts: the bone-in brisket (the company makes corned beef and pastrami, as well) and what they call the boneless navel (the belly cut, similar to pork belly, from which we get bacon). This trim, when ground, results in a mixture that is approximately 50 percent fat and 50 percent meat.
These two ingredients—brined bull meat and ground fat—are combined to create a forcemeat, or stuffing, that has about 22 percent fat. It is then channeled into a bowl mixer with the diameter of a jet’s turbine, where it’s puréed with paprika extract (which is responsible in part for the reddish color), dry mustard, pepper, garlic juice, corn syrup, and the curing salt called sodium nitrite that is important in any smoked sausage for safety reasons and fundamental to the color and flavor of the hot dog.
The giant bowl mixer is then vacuum-sealed to remove air from the meat mixture and lower the temperature change that results from friction. (Temperature is critical to a meat emulsification. If it gets too hot, it can break, the fat separating from the water and protein. While Vienna Beef won’t reveal the exact temperature of the emulsification, it’s kept almost freezing in the chopper.)
The emulsified forcemeat is then pumped through funnels into natural casings, mechanically twisted into links, and hung on smoking rods. (In contrast, skinless why-bothers are stuffed into cellophane that is removed after smoking and before packaging—notice the faint line down the length of skinless hot dogs; it’s from the razor that removes the cellophane.)
Once in the smokehouse—a series of narrow holding chambers in which hickory smoke circulates—the hot dogs hang at about 120 degrees for an hour. This “tempering phase,” Bodman says, helps set up the “protein matrix”—in other words, the slow temperature rise ensures a good bind of the protein, water, and fat. The temperature in the smokehouse then rises to about 180 degrees. When they’ve reached an internal temperature of 162 degrees, the dogs are quickly chilled.
And there it is, the country’s best hot dog.
barba crescit caput nescit
DRAGNET 1967 first show in colour: Joe Friday learns about LSD http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2eBPWwxOKwQ
1. Average Finnish grocery list includes beer and sweets
Milk maintains its number one spot at the top of every Finnish list, joined by other standards like flavoured yoghurts, dark rye bread, coffee and bananas. Another product that is most purchased at local shops is medium-strength beer, even though it is not officially classified as a foodstuff.
The list of most popular products has remained virtually unchanged for the last ten years in Finland, although there has been slight movement to indicate that the country’s residents are trying to consume more healthy foods.
“Sour milk products like quark and buttermilk and yogurts with acidophilus and other healthy additives weren’t top products ten years ago. Our chain of K-markets has also reverted back to the practice of manned meat and fish counters, which has sparked an upturn in the sales of fresh
fish and meat,” says Otto Heinonen, a spokesman for Kesko’s grocery trade.
S-Group has also noticed clear changes in the sales of meat in the last few years.
“There has been strong growth in the sale of chicken, which now surpasses minced meat in popularity. Sausages have also taken a backseat to their whole meat alternatives. The high-fat deli meat known as ’lauantaimakkara’ has been replaced by sliced ham,” says S-Group communications manager Outi Hohti.
Are you one of the millions who have been stopped by CONSTIPATION?
Local study doctors need your help with THE CIC3 Study evaluating an investigational study drug for chronic constipation. To pre-qualify for this research study you must be between 18 and 80 years of age and have had chronic constipation for at least 3 months. Participants must have a history of fewer than 3 bowel movements per week.
All study-related visits, tests, and study drugs will be provided at no cost.
Reimbursement for travel may also be provided.
Call or join us on the web to see if The CIC3 Study is right for you.
“You get up on your little twenty-one inch screen and howl about America and democracy. There is no America. There is no democracy. There is only IBM, and ITT, and AT&T, and DuPont, Dow, Union Carbide, and Exxon. Those are the nations of the world today. What do you think the Russians talk about in their councils of state, Karl Marx? They get out their linear programming charts, statistical decision theories, minimax solutions, and compute the price-cost probabilities of their transactions and investments, just like we do. We no longer live in a world of nations and ideologies, Mr. Beale. The world is a college of corporations, inexorably determined by the immutable bylaws of business. The world is a business, Mr. Beale. It has been since man crawled out of the slime. And our children will live, Mr. Beale, to see that… perfect world… in which there’s no war or famine, oppression or brutality. One vast and ecumenical holding company, for whom all men will work to serve a common profit, in which all men will hold a share of stock. All necessities provided, all anxieties tranquilized, all boredom amused.”
In 1969, musicians David Bowie and Leonard Cohen were students at Samye Ling. In fact Bowie not only studied Buddhism at Samye Ling, he almost became a monk there:
"I was a terribly earnest Buddhist at the time [...] I had stayed in their monastery and was going through all their exams, and yet I had this feeling that it wasn't right for me. I suddenly realised how close it all was: another month and my head would have been shaved."
“The conscious and intelligent manipulation of the organized habits and opinions of the masses is an important element in democratic society. Those who manipulate this unseen mechanism of society constitute an invisible government which is the true ruling power of our country. ...We are governed, our minds are molded, our tastes formed, our ideas suggested, largely by men we have never heard of. This is a logical result of the way in which our democratic society is organized. Vast numbers of human beings must cooperate in this manner if they are to live together as a smoothly functioning society. ...In almost every act of our daily lives, whether in the sphere of politics or business, in our social conduct or our ethical thinking, we are dominated by the relatively small number of persons...who understand the mental processes and social patterns of the masses. It is they who pull the wires which control the public mind.” Edward Bernays
47742, John Paul Durazzo, Woodbridge, 06:05:56.
47752, John Tofanelli, West Caldwell, 06:06:04.
47761, Jennifer Circkirillo, Bayonnne, 06:06:10.
47770, Sanjay Bery, Basking Ridge, 06:06:16.
47772, Lisa Cann, Stanhope, 06:06:17.
47803, Nadine Carroll, Bayonne, 06:07:17.
47804, Paula Belem, Edison, 06:07:18.
47814, Goncalo Leonard, Jersey City, 06:07:27.
47815, Juliette Joseph, Fort Lee, 06:07:27.
47819, Hideo Shionoiri, Edgewater, 06:07:31.
47828, Saud Masud, Jersey City, 06:07:40.
47831, Audy Bautista, Fair Lawn, 06:07:41.
Actually my signature Christmas party cocktail recipe is similar to an "egg cream nog".
It's the "Rudolph": One shot of Godiva White Chocolate Liquor and one shot of Bailey's Irish Cream in the bottom of a Highball glass, add a splash of heavy cream, then fill with plain soda while stirring, like when making a NY-style egg cream. Top with a shot of Reddi-Whip. Optional garnish: shaved chocolate (Rudolph's "whiskers") and a maraschino cherry (Rudolph's "nose"). Goes great with a buffet of Chinese dumplings.
4. Cooter or bust!
Help me move to Vermont and acquire a vagina. (This is not a joke.) Insurance and relocation-related questions within.
Two facts have recently come to my attention:
If I do not get gender reassignment surgery pretty soon I am going to lose my goddamn mind.
The state of Vermont requires Obamacare plans to cover GRS.
I am a few days away from finishing grad school, and I'd been planning to move to somewhere in the northeast soon anyway. Originally I'd had my eye on Boston, where my wife and I have various friends and family. But it looks like the quickest route to surgery and sanity might be to shift my sights to Vermont, at least for a year or so.
Here are some things I'd like to know:
I have no actual idea how this insurance exchange business works. The Vermont exchange website says open enrollment lasts until February 15. What do I need to do by then to become eligible to enroll in a plan there? (Have an address in VT? Have lived there for a certain length of time? Have a job there?)
What is Vermont like as a place to live? What should I know about it if I'm considering moving there? What do you wish you'd known before you moved there?
More specifically: where in the state might it be most pleasant to be an overeducated 30something queer? Where might I find like-minded roommates or some sort of community?
What are the major industries or employers there? Where (besides Craigslist or Indeed) should I be looking for jobs?
Alternately: any ideas for jobs there that might make an interesting temporary adventure for someone taking a yearlong post-grad-school detour and trying to figure out what comes next?
Is this whole thing completely moronic? What haven't I thought of that I should be?
Friday, December 5, 2014 2:58 AM
So, it's the total eclipse of the sun ( reference Carly Simon and You're So Vain), and my roofing pals and I are heading home, riding in the back of a half-ton equipped with boom boxes powerful enough to be heard on the top of the church roofs we were working on that summer. The driver had the radio tuned to my hometown station, a 50,000 watt, clear channel block-programmed. dinosaur. It was Wednesday afternoon and the music ought to have been classic country. As the sun disappeared, moving toward totality, birds settled into the trees, the music changed, and we heard (I knew later) Zoot Horn Rollo ".. hit that long lunar note, and let it float." Never forgot the juxtaposition of the ride, the eclipse and that song, the unnameable feeling.
OKAVANGO DELTA, BOTSWANA — For the tallest animals on earth, giraffes can be awfully easy to overlook. Their ochered flagstone fur and arboreal proportions blend in seamlessly with the acacia trees on which they tirelessly forage, and they’re as quiet as trees, too: no whinnies, growls, trumpets or howls. “Giraffes are basically mute,” said Kerryn Carter, a zoologist at the University of Queensland in Australia. “A snort is the only sound I’ve heard.”
Yet watch giraffes make their stately cortege across the open landscape and their grandeur is operatic, every dip and weave and pendulum swing an aria embodied.
To giraffe researchers, the paradox of this keystone African herbivore goes beyond questions of its camouflaging coat. Giraffes may be popular, they said — a staple of zoos, corporate logos and the plush toy industry — but until recently almost nobody studied giraffes in the field.
“When I first became interested in giraffes in 2008 and started looking through the scientific literature, I was really surprised to see how little had been done,” said Megan Strauss, who studies evolution and behavior at the University of Minnesota. “It was amazing that something as well known as the giraffe could be so little studied.”
The Amazing, Mysterious Giraffe 10:35
Giraffes exhibit some surprisingly complex behavior. They are silent in the wild; female giraffes form girlfriend cliques; giraffes have circulatory systems like fighter pilot suits; and they have neck fights. David Corcoran and Jeffery DelViscio
Giraffes are the “forgotten megafauna,” said Julian Fennessy, a giraffe researcher and the executive director of the Giraffe Conservation Foundation. “You hear all about elephants, Jane Goodall and her chimpanzees, Dian Fossey and her mountain gorillas, but there’s been a massive paucity of information about giraffes.”
Now all that is changing fast, as a growing cadre of researchers seek to understand the spectacular biology and surprisingly complex behavior of what Dr. Fennessy calls a “gentle giant and the world’s most graceful animal.” Scientists have lately discovered that giraffes are not the social dullards or indifferent parents they were reputed to be, but instead have much in common with another charismatic mega-herbivore, the famously gregarious elephant.
Female giraffes, for example, have been found to form close friendships with one another that can last for years, while mother giraffes have displayed signs of persistent grief after losing their calves to lions.
“Giraffes have been underestimated, even thought of as a bit stupid,” said Zoe Muller, a wildlife biologist at the University of Warwick in England. But through advances in satellite and aerial tracking technology, improved hormonal tests and DNA fingerprinting methods to extract maximum data from giraffe scat, saliva and hair, and a more statistically rigorous approach to analyzing giraffe interactions, she said, “we’ve been able to map out their social structure and relationships in a much more sophisticated way; there’s a lot more going on than we appreciated.”
For their part, male giraffes ever in search of the next mating opportunity have been found to be astute appraisers of the local competition and will adjust their sexual strategy accordingly. Males generally gain in rank and access to fertile females with age, and the alpha bulls flaunt that seniority physically and behaviorally: The twin ossicones that sprout like a snail’s tentacles on top of a giraffe’s head thicken and lose their charming tuftiness; a bony mass bulges up in the middle of the forehead; the neck musculature grows visible; and the male’s posture becomes ever prouder and more unflinchingly vertical.
Andre Ganswindt of the University of Pretoria in South Africa and his colleagues have found that young bulls recently launched on their rutting career will, when they’re on their own, mimic the basic demeanor of their elders: head held high, neck puffed out, females pursued and prodded and their urine sniffed for signs of estrus. But should a dominant bull saunter into view, the younger males instantly drop their sexual antics and seek to make themselves look small and innocent.
“It’s a case of ‘When I’m alone I’m the big giraffe,’ ” Dr. Ganswindt said. “But as soon as there are bigger bulls present, ‘No, no, no, I’m just a child.’ ”
The younger bulls have reason to fear their elders’ wrath. Dominance clashes between male giraffes can be terrifying spectacles, as each bull repeatedly “necks” the other, using his massive neck as a sling to slam his head against his rival, sometimes to devastating, even lethal effect.
Dr. Ganswindt saw one bull that had somehow survived with a broken neck. “The neck grew together again,” he said, “but at a funny angle.”
Continue reading the main story
Range of the Giraffe
Giraffes are scattered across a wide arc of central and southern Africa.
Source: Giraffe Conservation Foundation
By The New York Times
Taking the Long View
Giraffes are found throughout sub-Saharan Africa, currently classified as a single species with up to nine subspecies that differ by features like head shape and whether the fur on their legs is plain or patterned. The species is not listed as endangered, but researchers point with alarm to evidence that in the past 15 years, the giraffe population has plummeted some 40 percent, to less than 80,000 from 140,000.
Partly to highlight the crisis, conservationists this year declared June 21 the first World Giraffe Day — the longest day for the tallest animal, they said.
Researchers also emphasize the ecological importance of giraffes. “As large browsers, they’re habitat changers,” Dr. Fennessy said. “They spend a hell of a lot of time feeding, pruning, distributing seeds across the landscape, keeping the habitat open for other wildlife to use.” By going from tree to tree and blossom to blossom, he added, they even serve as pollinators.
A giraffe’s extraordinary mouth is like a set of human hands, its thick, prehensile lips and 18-inch-long, prehensile tongue can together grasp a leafy branch and then deftly pluck away the leaves while avoiding intervening thorns and barbs. Each day, and often well into the night, a giraffe consumes about 75 pounds of leaves, shoots, vines and occasional bits of dried meat licked from bones, all digested in its four-chambered ruminant stomach.
Giraffes also have excellent vision. Their eyes are among the largest of terrestrial mammals’, they can see in color and over great distances frontally, and their peripheral vision is so wide-angled they can essentially see behind themselves as well. Their keen eyesight lets them scan for predators, especially lions, which are their biggest threat apart from humans, and to keep track of each other.
Dr. Carter, of Queensland, and her colleagues followed more than 400 giraffes for six years, identifying their home ranges and who associated with whom. As the researchers reported in the journal Animal Behaviour, the females displayed clear and persistent social preferences. Some giraffes with overlapping home territories would never be found together, while others were sighted associating a good 80 percent of the time.
Female giraffes can live 20 years or more, Dr. Carter said, and it makes sense they might rely on each other for clues to the best feeding grounds, help with calf caretaking “or to reduce stress, just by having somebody nearby.”
Thriving Under Pressure
The species is not listed as endangered, but in the past 15 years, the population has plummeted some 40 percent, to less than 80,000 from 140,000. Credit Julian Fennessy
Or perhaps to console each other. Giraffe calves are extremely vulnerable to predators, and though mothers will fight valiantly to keep their young alive — kicking their powerful legs forward and backward, sometimes delivering blows that can break a lion’s jaw — half or more of all calves are killed in their first year of life.
Echoing similar sightings by others, Dr. Strauss, the Minnesota researcher, described one case in which a mother spent four days lingering at the place where a lion had seized her calf, forgoing food and often in the company of two other adult females. “We’re just at the beginnings of trying to understand this kind of behavior,” she said.
Also of interest is the giraffe’s exceptional cardiovascular system. A large giraffe can stand 20 feet tall — the height of a second-story window — with its neck accounting for roughly a third its span and its long legs the same. The multitiered challenge, then, is how to both pump blood very high and retrieve it from far below while avoiding burst capillaries in the brain or blood pooling around the hooves.
As part of the Danish Cardiovascular Giraffe Research Program, scores of scientists have traveled to South Africa to study giraffe physiology. They have measured blood pressure at different sites and found readings that range from high to ridiculous — up to five times human blood pressure — yet with none of the organ damage commonly seen in hypertensive patients.
Instead, the giraffe has extremely thick blood vessel walls to prevent blood from leaking into surrounding tissue, while rugged, inflexible collagen fibers in its neck and legs help keep the blood traffic moving, rather as the tight antigravity suits worn by astronauts and fighter pilots will maintain blood flow under the most extreme gravitational shifts. A complex mesh of capillaries and valves store and release blood in the neck, allowing the giraffe to bend over for a drink of water and then raise its head again quickly without fainting; when the giraffe is standing still, sphincters at the top of the legs limit circulation to the lower extremities, to minimize the risk of fluid buildup around the hooves.
Researchers were also surprised to find that contrary to old textbook wisdom, giraffes do not have unusually large hearts for animals their size. “It’s half a percent of body mass, and that’s the same as we see in a cow, dog or mouse,” said Christian Aalkjaer of the department of biomedicine at Aarhus University in Denmark.
Moreover, Dr. Aalkjaer and his colleagues have determined that the giraffe’s cardiac output — the amount of blood pumped into circulation each minute — is modest, proportionally lower than it is in humans. That finding could help explain why giraffes rarely run for very long: Their hearts can’t deliver oxygen to their muscles fast enough to power extended aerobic exertion.
Or maybe the giraffes are worried about tripping over their own feet. Heather More and Shawn O’Connor of Simon Fraser University in British Columbia and their colleagues measured so-called sensorimotor responsiveness in the giraffe: how long it takes a nerve signal to travel from a muscle in the ankle up to the brain and back again. Reporting in The Journal of Experimental Biology, the researchers found that the nerve conduction rate in the giraffe is pretty much the same as it is in a shrew, rat or any other mammal.
Given the comparatively greater distance a nerve signal has to travel in the giraffe, Dr. More said, it’s possible the giraffe faces real challenges in reacting quickly to events down under — a rock beneath its hoof, or a bite to its ankle.
Evolution is always a trade-off, but for the giraffe the feeding advantages that came with elongation clearly outweighed any diminution in reflex speed. No need to run when you can be a quiet poem masked by a tree.
I can feel the warmth for here. Hiya, Bill. All gooned up for the holidays, I presume?
*gooned up*= local patois for "everything in hand, time to kick back."
Avatar ♥ @10:12 Sem Chumbo:
While in Europe, where some producers of *fruit in a bottle of liqueur* use two part bottles, the company I help out with starts with actual fruit trees hung with un-tricked-out bottles. Identifying blossoms at the end of suitable branches, we wait for the flower to be fertilized and a proto-fruit to identify itself. At this point, we slip a 750ml bottle over branch, securing the bottle in a cradle. And then, as Mr. Plow, aka, Homer Simpson says, "We play the waiting game."
By and by, and if fire blight, insects, sun scald and the thousand other slings and arrows a pear is heir to, do no damage, and the pear is cosmetically suitable, it is cut from the mother branch, stem intact. Then the bottle is filled with pear eau de vie, which we also make. Eau de vie, known around our shop as *refined moonshine* is 40% ABV and as such proves an excellent preservative. Such was the case demonstrated, I think, with Admiral Nelson after the Battle of Trafalgar, when his corpse was sent home in a cask of spirits, to no discernible ill-effect. Whether or not he was toasted with glasses of his very own infusion upon arrival on that sceptred isle is yet a matter of scholarly dispute.
We started this season with 425 bottles in the trees. Blew through Hurricane Arthur on July 5th taking a mighty toll, then a long dangerous summer fraught with pear peril. By the end of September, we had 173 finished bottles, each in its own clear pine box, and accompanied by the story above, more or less--minus the Nelson stuff.
And this is why, Bill, a delicious pear brandy, a preserved fruit, a great story and a lovely handmade, in Nova Scotia, I might add, box, we charge $125 CDN.
I personally get $25 for every one I sell, because I repeat this story hundreds of times before that happens:-) And I take considerable liberties with it, and perhaps this is why my success rate is so low but my pleasure increases with each re-telling.
This story is my Christmas gift to you, Bill, and the Zzzzzzzero Hour faithful. Gods bless you, one and all, if the Fates allow.
Avatar ♥ @11:13 Brian in UK:
Well Sem I can only say if I was in your manor I would purloin a bottle of said eau de vie. I still have a splash left of a poire William bottle from the last trip to Paris. I loves eau de vie. Settles the stomach wonderfully after a snorting feed. Love the description, the bottle I had was just clear liquid. We do make sloe gin and various fruit flavoured vodkas. Sad to say we do not distill them. Got to get back into mid season drinking form as I have been abstaining due to this impacted wisdom tooth (now extracted).
Avatar ♥ @12:15 Bill Mac:
You both make me want to drop everything I'm doing with my life and start a new one! I miss our talks about fine booze, and both of you are creating libations. So long as paying skills like phlebotomy can fund your passions it sounds like you can be way happy. Love the *fruit in a bottle of liqueur* tome - the topic became one of the recurring themes of our weekly jib-jab along with Brians hasty exits to walk the dog and feed the chickens. Sem, I just reread and comprehended the preservative part of your story. Reminds me of another story I read about honey infused Egyptians that weren't ready for consumption until they cured for a century.
To drop in yet another Homerism - "mmmmm - honey infused Egyptians...."
Brian - Hope your molar hole clears up before the festivities begin - maybe you start could earlier.
Avatar ♥ @12:22 Bill Mac:
@Sem "Gooned up" indeed! Doing my first show in a month, and a bunch of days away from the old grind... I'm ready...
Avatar ♥ @12:58 Sem Chumbo:
@Bill: well, as a connoisseur of marginalia and arcana, I confess my pure ignorance of Mellification, apart from the fact that *mel* derives from the Greek, for sweet. But this! Jesus.
木乃伊, [MUNAIYI]. HUMAN MUMMY CONFECTION
Li [Shizhen]: According to 陶九成 [Tao Jiucheng] in the 輟耕錄 [Chuogenglu "Record after retiring from plowing"], it says in Arabia there are men 70 to 80 years old who are willing to give their bodies to save others. The subject does not eat food, he only bathes and partakes of honey. After a month he only excretes honey (the urine and feces are entirely honey) and death follows. His fellow men place him in a stone coffin full of honey in which he macerates. The date is put upon the coffin giving the year and month. After a hundred years the seals are removed. A confection is formed which is used for the treatment of broken and wounded limbs. A small amount taken internally will immediately cure the complaint. It is scarce in Arabia where it is called mellified man.
Mr. [Tao] has recorded it in this way but Li [Shizhen] the author of this [Bencao] does not know whether it is true so he is recording it for others to verify.
While there will be guests here Christmas Day, and cooking for them is part of my duties, I have reserved 10-1 in order to hear ZH in its entirety, and I guess, live.
I can say with certainty that the Christmas dishes I prepare will be totally Mellified Man-free, though there may be traces of tree or ground nut, soy, milk, egg, wheat, rice, marshmallow Fluff, Spam, bologna boat, toad in the hole, and MSG.
Very much looking forward to your spins!
Avatar ♥ @1:58 Brian in UK:
That fire sure is warming. I completely misread macerates for a similar word, changed your whole story, Sem.
Just been to the market and bought some Wild Halibut, bit pricey but heck. Cue the old joke Bill. Was it wild, well it was none too pleased. Timing not so great over here, we try and eat by the time it gets dark, around four, so hoping to catch the early part of the show. Might be time to get libating.
Avatar ♥ @2:22 Bill Mac:
Way to go! Two days before showtime and we're already talking about Candied Andy (no offense to Andy in Berlin!) Mary Roach wrote a book called 'Stiff: The Curious Lives of Human Cadavers' that goes into just that, touching on the topic of Mellified Man. I find the description of it being 'scarce' a little bit disconcerting. Think there's still a culture of this happening somewhere?
Avatar ♥ @2:29 Bill Mac:
@Brian Yeah unfortunately I realize that the days' activities are already in full gear over there. We'll catch up. BTW thanks for writing this week. I was thinking of the collective crew earlier this week when I was wondering whether I was already turning into a 'lazy lopis' (as dear departed father would sometimes refer tome as), specifically come recent Saturday mornings. Hope everyone is hanging in.
Avatar ♥ @3:08 Sem Chumbo:
Near the end of Trouble's show today, there was an excerpt of Dylan Thomas reading from *A Child's Christmas in Wales*.
I offer you a few moments of Canadiana, from a pretty funny guy, Howard Engel, who has a quite an amazing story himself (en.wikipedia.orgwiki/Howard_Engel)
So, his take on ACCiW www.msgr.ca...
Avatar ♥ @3:50 Brian in UK:
Sem, first link non starter, as you can see it is not all highlighted.
Bill, at least your old man had a sense of humour, mine kept his well hidden. I take everything seriously and nothing seriously. Working in a hospital you have to be able to invoked the humour in anything, which I do not find the least bit difficult.
Buck, buck Number 1.
Avatar ♥ @3:56 Sem Chumbo:
Thanks, Brian, let my proofreading eyes in my other life.
Avatar ♥ @3:58 Sem Chumbo:
See what I mean?
Avatar ♥ @9:10 Bill Mac:
@Brian - Well, you're certainly a student of a lot of what I would consider funny, and a lot more that I don't quite get when it happens to squirt out on the chat during showtime. I think taking everything seriously and nothing seriously leaves you with a good combination to make you a good listener and conversationalist. I'm in healthcare myself, but not on the clinical side, which is a totally different head than from where I'm at.
Avatar ♥ @9:14 Bill Mac:
@Sem So what you're saying is that Howard Engel may not be able to read what he writes.
Avatar ♥ @9:23 Bill Mac:
@Sem All I can say is I wish I could write like that.
Avatar ♥ @6:25 Sem Chumbo:
Good morning, Bill. *Brining* a turkey for roasting tomorrow, making a raw cranberry/celery/sweet onion/wild honey salad to marinate for a day, bread slow-rising, and slow-cooking a honey-ham (225F). (Is this the mellified Christmas menu or what?) I am SO looking forward to the show tomorrow. Hope all is well where you are.
Avatar ♥ @6:42 Brian in UK:
Dylan Thomas' Childs Christmas is good but never reaches the heights of Under Milk Wood. The quality of the words have a narcotic effect in as much as you have to keep returning for another fix of semantics.
Sem sounds good. The word brining crops up a lot in Thanksgiving & Christmas cooking. My wife will be makng a turkey & ham pie on Friday. Hmmmm. Fruit salad making this afternoon after work.
That fire really does give out some heat. I did consider a barbecue for a Christmas present. Persoanally I cannot stand how there are used over here. Cheap burgers & sausages burnt to buggery. Never cooked on one before, might try my luck this year.
Avatar ♥ @7:07 Sem Chumbo:
*burnt to buggery*: man, the English really have a way with the language. Good day, Brian. Off to the market on foot. More later.
Avatar ♥ @12:31 Sem Chumbo:
@Brian: I catered a small rural wedding for 40 last summer, at the organic farm of the bride's parents. Their own chicken and lamb were on the menu, and I cooked them in a pair of gigantic bar-b-ques. Preserved lemon and tarragon chicken, 2-day marinated lamb (much, much garlic, preserved lemon and a stupid amount of rosemary.) 275F for 4 hours (10 pound meat birds, and a pair of legs from a Lambosaurus Rex.)
Beautiful heat control and a fine result. Quick and hot is too hard to control, low and slow is the way to go, in my opinion.
Avatar ♥ @1:11 Brian in UK:
I like the idea of cooking say chicken in a barby queue. Anchovies go well in lamb too. I have my eye on a Weber as the hood seems to allow for a kind of convection effect. I would like to cook fish on open heat too. It just seems such a waste of energy to not use all coals fully. I need to practice but in order to practice I need to have one. That meal sounded good.
Avatar ♥ @2:49 Bill Mac:
I'm more impressed by the phrase 'quality of the words have a narcotic effect'. It's exactly what I would have preferred to say if my fluency with the Kings' way of expressing myself wasn't limited to grunting and flashing the "thumbs up" when I'm asked to comment on something.
Avatar ♥ @3:11 Bill Mac:
If I had any sense I would organize a foodie junket and do a couple live shows from somewheres in the UK and somewheres in Nova Scotia (nudge nudge) We're still cleaning up drool puddles der missus left when she read tomorrows menu. When should we be there?
Avatar ♥ @3:19 Sem Chumbo:
Swing by any time, most of the work is already done. I'll tell you, the big highlight of the past month has been a little old Ashkenazi lady here (Lower East Side emigree, doncha know) who schooled me in challah/babka.
Yep, sweet, yeast-risen challah dough, then the three braids rolled out flat and covered in bittersweet chocolate, cinnamon and brown sugar, then rolled up and braided. Needless to say there is plenty of butter, egg yolks, powdered sugar and such like involved. The result is divine. Paramedics will be standing by tomorrow with the de-fib paddles:-D
Avatar ♥ @3:34 Bill Mac:
Don't ruin this by reminding me of the consequences! You're killing me from here! We gotta move there.
Avatar ♥ @5:15 Sem Chumbo:
Well, it is not all lobster tails and every Sunday night free at the seraglio here. We locals often, in desperate times, live off the land: scarfing down apparently unowned and poorly hidden raw scallops on the run, cooking decent night-jacked venison under the cover of the smell of bootleg distilling, and as frequently as he is away, dining on the next door neighbours' sheep and chickens.
We are still the highest taxed province in the country, with the biggest per capita debt, some roads which would easily translate into Six Flags rides, and own a stubborn, conservative, xenophobic, and often racist streak which would be right at home in deepest Mississippi.
We have enough Irish and Scots genes here to infect us with a fatalist high humour which nothing but a coal mine disaster or half a dozen guys lost at sea can even momentarily dampen. As Brian wrote earlier, there is a certain equanimity (I paraphrase, take everything seriously/nothing seriously) in-bred here, taking the rough with the smooth you might say.
Like the old joke (I heard it in Budapest), about Hungarian pessimists: "Things can't get any worse." Hungarian optimist: "Yes, they can!" Living in Nova Scotia is like that, and it is only the young who move away, trying to take the geographical cure for life, only to find it the same wherever they go. They come back, or at least no matter where they wind up living or for how long, when asked where they live, they name the place but they always say," I'm a Nova Scotian."
This has not been lifted from the Provincial "So You Want to Live Here, eh" Guide to Immigration for *Come from Aways*, just so you know this is one man's opinion only. A highly esteemed man, yes, but still, just one man:-P
Avatar ♥ @4:24 Brian in UK:
Well Sem we are living on a mighty mutlicultural island right now, was it ever thus. This country is remarkably open to new faces, ideas and thoughts.
Anyway, HAPPY CHRISTMAS. It is a beautiful clear skied sunny day here. Bit of a frost last night. Chickens fed, turkey about to enter it's last resting place. Going to walk Spencer in the woods and collect youngest daughter. All three will be back in the nest soon. Then everything will be TICKERTY BOO.
Avatar ♥ @6:11 Sem Chumbo:
Good on your Brian, it sounds as though you have this day well in hand. Tickerty boo, indeed. Still hear that around here, where there was an RCN training base for over fifty years, and the Brits were thick on the ground, once they pushed the Irish out of the way to make room. A Merry Christmas to you, as well.
Avatar ♥ @7:13 Brian in UK:
Sem, that challah sounds wonderful. I am lazy and just make bread in a machine. Is it complicated.
By the way, my favourite Hubert Selby Jnr. is The Demon. It fair took me aback when I first read it. Not had time to read all your personal missive will do in the fullness etc. I was surprised when reading The Willow Tree that he mentioned Ken Hollings and thanked him for his support and editing skills. I used to know Ken when he was in Biting Tongues. Bill played them a while ago. Small old world.
Avatar ♥ @7:15 Brian in UK:
BILL, small request. Any chance of Talking Heads 'Burning Down the House' from Speaking in Tongues.(one of my pastimes!!) This should get everyone jumping in the kitchen as we prep dinner.
Avatar ♥ @8:05 Guido from Cologne:
Good morning Bill!
This is great!
I will be listening mobile for half of the show and then have you as a soundtrack for cooking business.
Which sounds go best along with frying noises? No easy task I guess ...
Avatar ♥ @8:57 Stanley:
Avatar ♥ @8:58 Brian in UK:
IT'S A BILL MAC CHRISTMAS.
STANLEY. What part of D&G are you staying?
BILL MAC CHRISTMAS is way better than BIG MAC CHRISTMAS
Avatar ♥ @9:00 Sem Chumbo:
@Brian: re: Selby, Jr. I came to him as most people did, via Last Exit. But then I read The Room, which was to me at the time, a quantum leap from LETO, which, I think you'll agree, is other-wordly in every respect.
Yes, to have known someone who worked closed with HS,jr,---an editor!---most amazing. Loved to have heard the stories.
Challah: ya just gotta suck it up and make a couple and get the failures out of the way.
Hey there, Stanley!
I know I sorcerers who invoke jets
In the jungles of New Guinea
They scrutinize the zenith coveting guines
That would bring their plunder cargo
On the Coral Sea to the passage of this
Device such non dnues creatures
Because of these Papuan waiting naked
The damage to the Viscount and the Comet
And as their totem could never kill
At their feet neither Boeing nor even four D.C.
They rvent of hijacks and accidents bird
These nafs wreckers armed with blowpipes
Thereby sacrificing the cargo cult
Blowing to the sky and aroplanes.
Melody O are you and your body disloqu
He haunts the islands that populate the sirens
Or accrochs the freighter whose siren
Alarm has been silenced, are you still
Random currents did you touch dj
These bright coral coasts guinennes
O stir in vain these unworthy wizards
Esprent who still had Briss
With nothing to lose or to believe in God
So they make me love my drisoires
I, like them, I pri cargo night
So they make me love my drisoires
I, like them, I pri cargo night
And I keep this expectancy of a dsastre
Arian ramnerait me that Melody
Diverts minor attraction of the stars. Gainsbourg SerGe ...........
Je sais moi des sorciers qui invoquent les jets
Dans la jungle de Nouvelle-Guine
Ils scrutent le znith convoitant les guines
Que leur rapporterait le pillage du fret
Sur la mer de corail au passage de cet
Appareil ces cratures non dnues
De raison ces papous attendent des nues
L'avarie du Viscount et celle du Comet
Et comme leur totem n'a jamais pu abattre
A leurs pieds ni Boeing ni mme D.C. quatre
Ils rvent de hijacks et d'accidents d'oiseaux
Ces naufrageurs nafs arms de sarbacanes
Qui sacrifient ainsi au culte du cargo
En soufflant vers l'azur et les aroplanes.
O es-tu Melody et ton corps disloqu
Hante-t-il l'archipel que peuplent les sirnes
Ou bien accrochs au cargo dont la sirne
D'alarme s'est tue, es-tu reste
Au hasard des courants as-tu dj touch
Ces lumineux coraux des ctes guinennes
O s'agitent en vain ces sorciers indignes
Qui esprent encore des avions briss
N'ayant plus rien perdre ni Dieu en qui croire
Afin qu'ils me rendent mes amours drisoires
Moi, comme eux, j'ai pri les cargos de la nuit
Et je garde cette esprance d'un dsastre
Arien qui me ramnerait Melody
Mineure dtourne de l'attraction des astres. ........... SerGe Gainsbourg
If you could change your heart to wanting to give, wanting to give whatever it is that she wants, ok, no eye contact/ then what is going on? I ask myself why I want eye contact so much I asked that when I was young--14 to 20's-- but everyone thought I was crazy. So I got used to men always and forever wanting to make eye contact whenever i was in public. I drank a lot , n the weekends it made me so nervous. SO now thats the reason I figured out after asking myself why I needed eye contact so much from men. I wasnt used to it at first, then I got used to it because it wouldnt stop and now that I am used to it, it is totally different and you can probably imagine why...When a woman is young, it is a constant. You will need to actually know her. There is a lot of stranger" lack of trust. ANyways, thats my take on it...or one of my takes on it all, the sexes thang, since I am in this great category of women where we are sort of old but sort of young, too, so we can actually discus such things and thereby hopefully promoting greater understanding between the sexes (genders?)
One of the most studied tribal religions in India, Santhal religion worships Marang buru or Bonga as supreme deity. The weight of belief, however, falls on a court of spirits (bonga), who handle different aspects of the world and who must be placated with prayers and offerings in order to ward off evil influences. These spirits operate at the village, household, ancestor, and sub-clan level, along with evil spirits that cause disease, and can inhabit village boundaries, mountains, water, tigers, and the forest. A characteristic feature of the Santhal village is a sacred grove on the edge of the settlement where many spirits live and where a series of annual festivals take place.
The most important spirit is Maran Buru (Great Mountain), who is invoked whenever offerings are made and who instructed the first Santhals in the brewing of rice beer. Maran Buru's consort is the benevolent Jaher Era (Lady of the Grove).
Sergeant Don Ross, 50 years, passed away after a lengthy illness in Candian Forces Base Winnipeg, on July 18, 2014. Born in Springhill, he was a son of Carl and Beverly (Hodges) Ross of Springhill. Don served 30 years as an Aeromedical Tech/Instructor. He was one of a few in the world to reach 12.3 G in the human centrifuge testing suits worn by our Jet Fighter Pilots today. Don completed 25 freefall jumps in a week, a feat respected by our CF Special Ops personnel. He was also a qualified ship diver and medic. Don was an avid golfer, hockey and softball player. He loved being with his dogs, Emrick and Iska.
A yearly round of rituals connected with the agricultural cycle, along with life-cycle rituals for birth, marriage and burial at death, involves petitions to the spirits and offerings that include the sacrifice of animals, usually birds. Religious leaders are male specialists in medical cures who practice divination and witchcraft. Similar beliefs are common among other tribes of northeast and central India such as the Kharia, Munda, and Oraon.
Smaller and more isolated tribes often demonstrate less articulated classification systems of the spiritual hierarchy, described as animism or a generalized worship of spiritual energies connected with locations, activities, and social groups. Religious concepts are intricately entwined with ideas about nature and interaction with local ecological systems. As in Santhal religion, religious specialists are drawn from the village or family and serve a wide range of spiritual functions that focus on placating potentially dangerous spirits and coordinating rituals.
The Santhals are an agricultural tribe, from time immemorial they have cleared forests, toiled the land, and produced food for subsistence. Santhal laborers were considered very efficient and they easily found employment in coal mines. Beside agriculture they also domesticate animals like cows, buffaloes and pigs. Apart from these the Santhals also are well versed in the art of hunting, where their exceptional skills with bow and arrows is noticeable. After the ban on hunting by the Government of India, the Santhals do not get chance to practice their archery skill but recently a new venture of organizing village level archery competitions during festive seasons has given a chance to culture this unique legacy. Those adopted and educated by the Christian missionaries were in a better position. There were a few Santhals in Government jobs holding high posts. The Santhal Deputy Commissioner, the village Heads, the Darogas, musicians and the teachers.
Santhals have taken up profession in every field. There are good number of Santhal doctors, engineers, governments servants, the opening up of new avenues after the arrival of the Christian missionaries, and the English education have changed their lifestyle and made it typically urban.
Feelings, my feelings are stuck on a old tin can in the infinite blue. Dont worru im not asking you to care! In actuality i am asking you to buy me a beer and listen to a story which whatever path it takes feelings will be involved! So just sit there with a distinguished smug on yor face, while ill be sifting rhru stories, so they can become words. Words of interest....... Whatever happened to me to be here right now, wherever i am......... Gently becoming your own thaught of persona, with the rage of humanity lurking with in my veines, selfish words it may be. I wonder if thoose thoughts have entered my human persona. Poetry reading and writing, fish killing and eating, glacier looking, mountain wandering, marijuana smoking, alchol drinking. Autodidact i have gained with that, whatever manroll the joint and let the enhanced emotion be the final jugdement, of this , whatever
First, about Joyce Carol Oates. Always, it seems , being reviewed in the magazines and newspapers I been reading for decades. Profiles, what have you. Never once, in her fifty year career, have I knowingly read anything by her, But, in doing a little research, it seems "them" might have pre-saged the birth of the new genre, the non-fiction novel, attributed to Capote's IN COLD BLOOD. It was several years ahead in publication, so perhaps it might be worth a look. As for the rest, I cannot form any opinion.
in no particular order:
Thomas MCGUANE, the first 3 novels, but at least 92 IN THE SHADE.
Raymond CARVER, all the short stories
John CHEEVER, The Short Stores of John Cheever, 1979
Hubert SELBY, The Room
Robertson DAVIES, the DEPTFORD TRILOGY. If not all of them, at least FIFTH BUSINESS. cdn
Mordecai RICHLER: Maybe start with SOLOMON GURSKY WAS HERE. cdn
Martin AMIS: MONEY.LONDON FIELDS,THE INFORMATION
Ivan TURGENEV; FATHERS AND SONS
Cormac MCCARTHY: BLOOD MERIDIAN or the Evening Redness in the West,ALL THE PRETTY HORSES,THE CROSSING
Neil JORDAN: NIGHT IN TUNISIA
Sebastian BARRY;THE WHEREABOUTS OF ENEAS MCNULTY; ANNIE DUNNE;A LONG, LONG WAY;THE SECRET SCRIPTURE; ON CANAAN'S SIDE
Raymond CHANDLER, all the novels, all the short stories, chronologically
John UPDIKE: as socio-historical commentary on American history, the quartet of HARRY ANGSTROM novels "the RABBIT" novels, though I read his earliest long fiction every five years or so:The Poorhouse Fair,The Centaur,Of the Farm,Couples
Herman MELVILLE: Moby Dick, but only after reading the Old Testament. Another one of the every five year reads for me.
Jonathan FRANZEN: STRONG MOTION. I have also read THE CORRECTIONS and FREEDOM, however S/M from 1993 is a "realer" work, to my taste.
Jorge Luis BORGE; FICTIONS,THE ALEPH. Difficult going, regardless of the translators skill, but foundational in the development of modern fiction, just one man's opinion.
Malcolm LOWRY; UNDER THE VOLCANO but first try earlier work: ULTRAMARINE and LUNAR CAUSTIC. U/T/V owes much to BORGES, though there is no evidence that Lowry ever read him.I lost my heavily annotated copy in a fire, a detail which would have delighted Lowry.
Charles BUKOWSKI; the novels POST OFFICE, FACTOTUM,WOMEN,HAM ON RYE.This is their chronological order.
Charles WILLLEFORD: 4 late career novels; MIAMI BLUES, NEW HOPE FOR THE DEAD, SIDESWIPE.THE WAY WE DIE NOW.
Joseph BOYDEN; THREE DAY ROAD, THROUGH BLACK SPRUCE. cdn
Alistair MCLEOD: NO SMALL MISCHIEF. cdn
T.Coraghessan Boyle: WORLDS END,THE ROAD TO WELLVILLE, THE TORTILLA CURTAIN, and the short story collection IF THE RIVER WAS WHISKY
Bernard MALAMUD;The ASSISTANT,THE FIXER,THE TENANTS,DUBIN'S LIVES. You might start with the last one.
Russell BANKS: CONTINENTAL DRIFT
Paul BOWLES; SHELTERING SKY,and his COLLECTED STORIES. His work as a translator of Moroccan stories, and the work of writers from the original French, Spanish and Portuguese texts expands his importance to 20th century literature to mind-boggling proportions. But S/Sky is a good entry point. (His recordings of Moroccan music is a whole other ball of wax)
FAULKNER Church, much different pews.
Carson McCullers:dive in anywhere, but THE BALLAD OF THE SAD CAFE is an omnibus beast. If you like any of this, then there's THE HEART IS A LONELY HUNTER, A MEMBER OF THE WEDDING, REFLECTIONS IN A GOLDEN EYE.
Flannery O'Connor: WISE BLOOD.you will know right away whether this is for you or not.THE COLLECTED STORIES would be a nice follow up.
Tennessee Williams: the plays up to NIGHT OF THE IGUANA
Truman Capote: ending with IN COLD BLOOD
James Lee BURKE; all of the Dave Robicheaux, just because of his exquisite handling of the mise-en-scène, and the writing, often verging on sacred despite the profane settings.
I hope there is something here you find to your liking.