Wednesday, 30 April 2008
Wednesday, 23 April 2008
Families are having to spend almost £800 more on their annual grocery bills as the highest rate of food inflation for a generation drives up supermarket prices.
Maybe you will stop doing your weekly ritual fat sods and stop over- shopping and wasting half of the food you bought?!
Eat less, grow your own veggies.
(1) Mothers to pass on cooking skills to children.
(2) TV cooking competition to see how many
meals can be made from a minimal shopping
(3) Domestic science in all schools.
(4) Show how much food is wasted nationaly.
(5) Encourage kids to grow an edible product in
their garden or backyard.
(6) Teach compost gardening
(7) Teach evaluating the safety of food past the
sell by date.
Stop paying UK farmers not to produce food on their land and leave it fallow for "environmental" reasons. Utter stupidity.Promote self-sufficiency in UK farming.
World food crisis? People don't know what the term means. "Can't get the grain product of choice this week" is not the same as every day being a struggle to feed your family as it is for a billion plus in the developing world.
This 'crisis' expression refers to those in the bloated unhealthy First world (whatever that means) not being able to pig out quite as cheaply, but there is no danger of them losing much diet variety, quality or quantity. We need a reality check.
There is plenty of food in the world. The apparent shortage is due to the rich nations buying, importing and wasting away one third of what they buy. Stop lecturing other nations about their population. The rich nations should stop stuffing themselves, overeating and wasting like John Prescotts of this world. Follow the same rules, regulations and rationing oneself as Britons did during the war years. Serve yourself on the plate what you can eat, cook what can be consumed and buy what can be cooked and eaten and not what is wasted and thrown as garbage.
Tuesday, 22 April 2008
Why vegetarianism is not a fairy tale?:
Subject: Prison vs Work
Just in case you ever get these two environments mixed up, this should make things a little bit clearer.
You spend the majority of your time in a 10X10 cell
you spend the majority of your time
You get three meals a day fully paid for
you get a break for one meal and
You get time off for good behavior
you get more work for
You can watch TV and play games
you could get fired for watching
You get your own toilet
you have to share the toilet with
They allow your family and friends to visit
you aren't even supposed to speak
All expenses are paid by the taxpayers with no work required
you get to pay all your expenses to go
You spend most of your life inside bars wanting to get out
you spend most of your time wanting
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Born in Billon, Puy-de-Dôme, in central France. Had a terrible childhood. His mother attempted suicide several times, but none of her desperate acts succeeded. He loved his father, who became blind and suffered from general paralysis due to syphilis, and died in 1915. On the eve of World War I, he converted to Catholicism. In 1916-17 he served in the army, but was discharged because of tuberculosis. Ill health troubled all his life, and he suffered from periods of depression.
In 1917 he joined the seminary at Saint-Fleur with the intention of becoming a priest. He spent a period with the Benedictine congregation at Quarr, on the Isle of Wright. A few years later experienced a loss of faith.
In the 1920 was involved with the Surrealist movement, but he called himself the "enemy from within." He was officially excommunicated from its inner circles by André Breton, who accused him of splintering the movement. In the same decade he started to write after a liberating period of psychoanalysis. He founded and edited many journals that revealed his interests in sociology, religion, and literature. He was the first to publish such thinkers as Barthes, Foucault and Derrida.
Between the years 1922 and 1944, he was a librarian and a deputy keeper at Bibliothèque Nationale in Paris. In the evenings he changed his role and became known as a regular visitor of bordellos. This habit caused him troubles at work. He resigned in 1944 because of tuberculosis, two years earlier he had moved to Vézelay, where he was eventually to be buried.
The Tears of Eros (1961) was his final book, an excursion in the history of eroticism and violence from the Aurignacian era to modern times. He started to write it in 1959, but his declining physical strength, lapses in memory, and the arrest of his eldest daughter for her political activities for Algeria slowed down the work. In its foreword he confessed: "In the violence of overcoming, in the disorder of my laughter and my sobbing, in the excess of raptures that shatter me, I seize on the similarity between a horror and a voluptuousness that goes beyond me, between an ultimate pain and an unbearable joy!" In the last chapter he wrote about the Chinese torture and presented photographs of an ecstatic man who is cut to hundred pieces. The strange, exalted facial expression of the man fascinated him: "I have never stopped being obsessed by the image of this pain," he said.
He felt that sexual union causes a momentary indistinguishability between otherwise distinct objects. The secret of eroticism opened visions into unknowable continuity of being, the death. Poetry has similar dimensions when it dissolves the reader "into the strange." Pornography was for him the vehicle for his own surrealist experiments and memory - this also partly explains complex associations of eggs and eyes.
Friedrich Nietzsche's work influenced him deeply, and such figures as Sade and Gilles de Rais. The latter was a 15th-century serial killer whose victims were young children.
“The stirrings within us have their own fearful excesses; the excesses show which way these stirrings would take us. They are simply a sign to remind us constantly that death, the rupture of discontinuous individualities to which we cleave in terror, stands there before us more real than life itself.”
- HAT inn is this
- Where for the night
- Peculiar traveller comes?
- Who is the landlord?
- Where the maids?
- Behold, what curious rooms!
- No ruddy fires on the hearth,
- No brimming tankards flow.
- Necromancer, landlord,
- Who are these below?