Michael R. Taylor, former Monsanto Lobbiest, is the Deputy Commissioner for Foods at the United States Food and Drug Administration(FDA).
Genetically engineered fodder?
Put trust in your bottled water,
While FDA lures you
Monsanto assures you
You won’t get blind staggers and totter.
Old Jules
Posted in 2012, Animals, Current Issues, Education, Government, limericks, Politics
Tagged animals, consumer protection, economy, Education, environment, fda, food and drug, genetic engineering, Human Behavior, humor, limerick, Nature, poems, poetry, politics
Lying in bed last night distracted from sleep by gallons of sweat pouring off my body I found myself wondering just why the hell the Coincidence Coordinators seem to be throwing so many obstacles in front of me and the cats getting the hell out of here, one way or another. It just oughtn’t be this difficult if I’m not chasing a wrong path, or am avoiding one I ought to be chasing.
I take this stuff seriously [and honestly don’t give a damn whether anyone else believes it’s insane for me to do so]. Seems clear to me in moments of insight the function the cats serve in my life is that of an anchor. The weight of my contracts with them keep me from taking the easy way out and living in a tent, a cave, somewhere I’d rather be. Somewhere the humidity’s not so high and the heat’s more bearable.
On the other hand, I’m not certain I’d find life worth living at all without these damned cats. That’s another feature of my life a lot of people might find insane, and another feature of it I don’t need to explain, even to myself. It’s good enough just riding the satisfaction I get sharing my life with them without demanding sanity out of it.
I think I’d do just fine without them if they exited my life without my having violated my contracts with them. But violating the contracts as a means to drive my life somewhere I’d rather be would cut just about everything I value in myself off at the knees.
Of course, there’s this damned project over there dancing around in the wings waving its arms around demanding a particular uncertainty principle be dismantled, provided the Coincidence Coordinators continue providing the means to pursue it. Which, thus far, they’ve continued to do.
So where’s the urgency in it all, thinks I? Where’s the source of the fire I’m building under myself to provide a driving ‘need’ to be in a tent or under a bridge?
Physical discomfort, thinks I, must be a big piece of it. Cripes, I think of myself as immune to allowing that to influence my life, but there it is.
And of course, I allowed a number of expectations to creep into my mind, demands on a future I’ve no reason at all to believe will come to pass. Things involving smelling pinon burning beside a stream, looking at rocks through a magnifier.
Enough of all that was still lingering in my mind this morning to get me asking the I Ching about it. He ain’t always all that helpful, but “any port in a storm,” eh?
Consultation on Wednesday, July 25, 2012 at 8:04 AM.
Present: Hexagram 61 Centering in Truth
Question: What about just blowing it off and going to live in a cave or under a bridge somewhere?
Truth involves establishing an aware relationship between your inner core and the circumstances in your life. Centering in truth involves the ability to perceive a fundamental wisdom, reflected within yourself – and also in others.
Truth is transformed into power when you disperse all prejudice and make yourself receptive to the world as it really is. This power can be a remarkable force indeed – yet is rarer than generally imagined. It can be maintained only by cultivating a genuine openness to things as they are – a willingness to see, rather than merely look.
Whenever your inner life is clouded, your influence in the world is under a shadow. If you are fearful, you will be attacked; if you cloak genuine mysteries in dogma, opportunities for new insight will be lost. If you vacillate in upholding your principles, you will be tested. Yet, when you are firm and strong, the power of truth can break through even the most stubborn minds.
In any debate, the power to perceive the truth in the other side’s argument is essential to achieving success. It is possible to influence even the most difficult people, or improve the most difficult circumstance, through the power of universal truth – for truth is something to which all things naturally respond. Get in touch with that part of yourself that is aware of this universal force of truth. Cultivate this inner resource, and you will become adept at using it to bind others to a common purpose.
The condition of things in the present is fairly stable. There are no specific changes indicated right now.
———————-
Guess I’d better dig out John Richard Lynn and read the judgements on Hexagram 61. Otherwise I might get thinking it matters whether I’m crazy.
Old Jules
Posted in 2012, Adventure, Animals, Country Life, Free, Human Behavior, New Mexico, NM, Outdoors, Survival, Texas
Tagged animals, country life, culture, environment, home, Human Behavior, humor, Life, lifestyle, personal, psychology, senior citizens, society, sociology
Good morning readers. Thanks for coming by for a read this morning.
Just playing catchup here. Posting a few items I’ve intended to mention for a while, but kept forgetting.
First, a while back I mentioned a kind of farm-fed Vietnamese frozen fish filets I got on one of those drama sales at HEB. Told you it was great fish, cheap, none of that on-the-brink fishy taste a person is liable to get buying fish.
Bought several packages since and what I said remains true. Striped Pangasius.
Secondly, if you’re troubled with awakening nights because of hand-grenades going off in your joints you might give this a try. I usually have to be troubled with it a dozen or so times before I remember to do it, but it might be months before it starts again. Usually when this Texas humidity goes ballistic.
I discovered sometime a long while back that when I eventually remember to do it, two grams of calcium pills per day for a week or two will cause it to stop. Mightn’t work for you, but it does for me. I just wish I could remember it sooner when the joints catch fire nights.
Thirdly, that taurine I told you about a while back I was taking to try to get off blood pressure medications didn’t succeed getting free of it. But the stuff’s so good in other ways I’m going to keep taking it when I can afford it.
Not much else going on here besides the sky full of humidity and hazy sunlight. I’m wondering whether there’s enough hot weather left to take the sheep shears to the long haired cats again. Wondering whether they’ll have time to grow a good coat back before the weather cools enough to make them wish they’d kept the fur.
Old Jules
Posted in 2012, America, Animals, Outdoors, Senior Citizens
Tagged animals, arthritis, blood pressure, cats, country life, fish, Health, Nature, pangasius, senior citizens, taurine
Good morning readers. Thanks for coming by for a read this morning. I appreciate you.
We’ve been blessed with some moisture the past couple of days and the ground’s soft enough I might be obliged to cancel my trip to Kerrville for groceries and cat food. Not at all sure that car will make it up the hill until things dry enough to give the tires some purchase.
When I went out to turn the chickens loose this morning I found I’d offended a skunk who’d been trying to take advantage of things by digging under the wall of the chicken-house several places. Because it happens occasionally, and a skunk, or coon will kill every chicken it can corner, I’d laid out chains along the bottoms of the walls with treble-hooks attached. Evidently this was a new skunk, or [if an old one] it had forgotten the last time it tried this.
Underneath that wall is limestone, most places, but there are a few places were a determined predator could get underneath if it got past the treble-hooks. This one didn’t. Left a tuft of hair, a bit of paw-hide and a stink enough to have the chickens overly anxious to get the hell out of Dodge in a hurry.
Maybe some things are worse than having your life saved.
Incidently, all that erosion control stuff I was doing for a while’s performing a lot better than I expected. Lots of that cedar’s now buried in silt. This place must have been losing tons of soil every time it rained for longer than anyone alive has any business remembering.
Damned cattle were eating their seed corn without a thought. Same as the rest of us.
Old Jules
Posted in 2012, Animals, Country Life, Free-ranging-chickens, Solitude, Transportation
Tagged animals, Chickens, country life, environment, homesteading, Human Behavior, humor, Life, lifestyle, Nature, Poultry, society, sociology, technology
Good morning readers. Thanks for coming by for a read this morning.
I went to town a few days ago to get the stolen car covered by liability insurance, and when I returned the Great Speckled Bird was defunct. Evidently decided it was better to take his chances on ending up in a factory farm for chickens next lifetime than put up with more of Old Sol’s blessings during this one.
Naturally his passing stirred things up considerably here. The bachelor roosters were promoted to full-fledged hen-chasers and released to free range daily, sleep with the flock, nights. But it’s also caused an undercurrent of rumors. Whisperings and quiet cluckings nights when the doers can’t be identified and prosecuted. Claims that it wasn’t just the heat offed TGSB, but radioactive fallout.
It’s partly my own fault. One of the felines was probably sneaking a look when I was reading trivia such as the article below:
http://www.prweb.com/releases/2012/5/prweb9498292.htm
Gen. Stubblebine’s prognosis is dire: “When the highly radioactive Spent Fuel Rods are exposed to air, there will be massive explosions releasing many times the amount or radiation released thus far. Bizarrely, they are stored three stories above ground in open concrete storage pools. Whether through evaporation of the water in the pools, or due to the inevitable further collapse of the structure, there is a severe risk. United States public health authorities agree that tens of thousands of North Americans have already died from the Fukushima calamity. When the final cataclysm occurs, sooner rather than later, the whole Northern Hemisphere is at risk of becoming largely uninhabitable.
“. . . The US Government’s statistics document an excess death rate of 20,000 US residents, mostly healthy infants, in the first 9 months following the multiple nuclear events at Fukushima. . As a humanitarian, strategist, intelligence analyst, father and grandfather, General Bert understands that doing nothing is, quite simply, not an option.
“. . . The lack of information is, however, a matter of State policy in Japan where it is now a felony offense to discuss negative aspects of either nuclear power or the Fukushima situation in particular.”
Old General Bert’s correct, the cats, chickens and I all agree. Doing nothing is not an option. But as Commander in Chief around here, I’m not aware of a damned thing I can do, nor of anything the cats and chickens can do to influence whether the Northern Hemisphere becomes largely uninhabitable.
Any more than we can do anything about this heat wave, except hunker down and try to think of ways to not follow TGSB into the next incarnation. And maybe try to find something useful to occupy ourselves despite the standing 8-count we’re all trying to function in.
For starters, I’m declaring martial law within the hearing-radius of the cabin and henhouse. Japan, at least, can be accused of doing something, even though not a damned thing can be done. I’m taking a page from Japan’s book and making it a criminal offence for any item of poultry, feline, or human being here to say, “Damn it’s hot.” Or, “Reckon how radioactive it is today?”
Old Jules
Posted in 2012, America, Animals, Chickens, Country Life, Current Issues, Free-ranging-chickens, Government, Human Behavior, Politics, Science, Survival, Texas
Tagged animals, cats, Chickens, country life, culture, environment, Events, Human Behavior, humor, Life, lifestyle, Nature, politics, psychology, society, sociology, survival
The Great Speckled Bird: Respecting our Betters
Good morning readers. Thanks for coming by for a read this morning.
A few years ago when I had a lot larger flock of chickens a pair of fox-critters killed over half of them in the space of two days. The second day I heard another chicken-drama taking place, grabbed the nearest long-gun and ran out to investigate.
Confusion out there. The hens were all huddled underneath cedars pointing at one another, hoping someone else would be selected by whatever had them scared. But The Great Speckled Bird was out in the open, craning his neck, looking for the problem. As I ran by, he joined me, then hopped out front. He ran straight for a cedar tree about 30 yards from me.
A fox was under that cedar, saw the rooster approaching, probably saw me, as well, and turned to scurry away. I quickly dispatched him a few yards into the escape. At that point TGSB joined me as I examined the carcass, dancing, clucking excitedly.
I’d never heard of a rooster behaving hunting-dog, thought it was an anomaly.
But yesterday he strutted his stuff again, and he’s still got it. Hens were acting about as before, one out in the open making a lot of fuss, though. I looked out and saw TGSB running across the meadow for the henhouse. I snagged the long-gun and headed out to find out what was happening. Arrived about the same time as TGSB.
A glance inside the henhouse showed black feathers lying around inside. Probably came from the Australorp raising the dickens initially. But TGSB was clucking, rubbed my leg and I looked down. He was dancing around the rear-end of a coon, hind legs and tail sticking out from under Battlestar Gallinica.
I’m sure the coon didn’t realize any of it wasn’t hidden, and I’d never have seen it if TGSB hadn’t pointed it out.
Battlestar Gallinica, the US Space Program, and Fluid Reality
Having resolved the coon issue, I just paused, drew a deep breath and admired him for the ten-thousanth time.
Some of you have wondered why I keep an old, crippled, useless rooster around. I’ll confess, TGSB is the reason I keep the hens around.
Old Jules
Posted in 2012, Animals, Chickens, Country Life, Free-ranging-chickens, Homesteading, Human Behavior, Nature, Outdoors, Poultry
Tagged animals, Chickens, country life, environment, homesteading, Human Behavior, humor, lifestyle, poetry, Poultry, society, sociology
Me: Why so quiet there Ms. Australorp? Thinking of giving up on those chalk eggs?
Her: No. I’m just feeling a little reflective and sad. I spent yesterday honoring the oceans.
Me: You WHAT? You spent yesterday wearing down those chalk eggs, same as every other day for the past couple of weeks. Honoring the oceans? I need to pull those eggs out from under you. A few days out chasing grasshoppers will help you regain perspective.
Her: No. Really. I was thinking about all that radioactivity in the North Pacific. Thinking about the Great Pacific Garbage Patch. All those poor turtles and plankton.
Me: Thinking of signing some petitions? Thinking of voting for someone who knows what to do about that garbage in the ocean vortices? Those two roosters caged over there know as much about what to do about it all as any human being.
Her: I know. Still, I feel sad about it. I think an empty, meaningless gesture or two might help me feel better. Maybe a rally and a few petitions after these eggs hatch.
Me: Rest your mind on that one, babe. I’m pulling those eggs. The golf ball, too.
Old Jules
Posted in 2012, America, Animals, Chickens, Communication, Country Life, Current Issues, Human Behavior, Nature, Solitude, Survival
Tagged animals, Chickens, country life, culture, environment, Human Behavior, humor, Life, lifestyle, Nature, politics, Poultry, psychology, society, sociology, Wildlife
So. The guy who drove this for the summer camp for kids provided more info.
1] That FalVay living under there is dead. Probably the big AC inside was Freon 12, which caused it to be useless maybe a decade ago.
2] They traded up to a bigger bus.
3] On ‘short’ trips it gets 4-5 miles to a gallon.
4] It’s got a 2-speed rear-end. ‘Overdrive’ of the old style.
5] Engine’s good, sound, ran better on leaded gasoline, but it’s okay.
I concludes:
The car-dealer got this thing free and called it a trade-in. He’s got nothing in it except an inspection sticker and some touch-up paint. It’s been sitting on that lot most of a month with a price-tag of $1998,
But I’m guessing after it sits there a while longer a person would want to be careful not to offer him $500 unless he wanted to find himself living in it.
But with gas prices being what they are a few hundred miles to New Mexico could pass itself off as a black hole for money.
Gonna just have to watch and listen on this one.
Meanwhile, couscous turns out to be high priced enough to fight its way out of my diet.
There are some llama-critters down where I turn off the highway I stop and talk to when they’re close to the fence. Those animals have the prettiest faces, particularly eyes, of any creature on the planet. If I could afford to get married again, there’s one of them congenial enough I think I might ask. Never talks back, always just walks over and stares lovingly, admiringly at me while I talk to her.
It’s been a good many years since I’ve run across a woman did that. Longer still since one managed to keep it up over the long haul. Turns out I sort of miss it.
Got a feeling, though, this llama has staying power.
Old Jules
Posted in 2012, America, Animals, Country Life, Senior Citizens, Transportation, Trucks
Tagged 1977 Chevrolet C60 school bus, animals, Bluebird body, country life, culture, Human Behavior, humor, Life, lifestyle, psychology, senior citizens, society, sociology, trucks
Me: Soooo. How you cat-folks feeling about some canned cat food this morning? Can I hear some ‘Amens’ on that?
Invader cat: Amen! Amen! Amen!
Naiad: Hold that thought a minute. Any idea what they put in those big bags of Purina food? Where they get it? That sort of thing?
Me: No idea at all. I just thought you guys would want a dose of something out of a can.
Invader cat: Amen! Amen! Amen!
Naiad: I’m not so sure. Got any liver and bacon flavor?
Me: Probably some of that in here somewhere. But the cans on top are salmon, tuna and chicken and tuna. Below, is seafood supper. I’d rather not dig down in the package if it’s okay.
Naiad: I’m not all that hungry Might go out and catch a mouse and just settle for that. I heard you grumbling and muttering about that radioactive bunch of tuna they caught out of San Diego the other day.
Me: Yeah, they did. But it was just ceisum 134 and 137. Not dangerous levels yet.
Naiad: So you figure they just threw them away? Or ground them up into fish meal to feed to pigs? Maybe put them into cans of food of one sort or another?
Me: I don’t know. I don’t think there’s any routine testing anyway. The article said, “The real test of how radioactivity affects tuna populations comes this summer when researchers planned to repeat the study with a larger number of samples. Bluefin tuna that journeyed last year were exposed to radiation for about a month. The upcoming travelers have been swimming in radioactive waters for a longer period. How this will affect concentrations of contamination remains to be seen.
“Now that scientists know that bluefin tuna can transport radiation, they also want to track the movements of other migratory species including sea turtles, sharks and seabirds.”
I reckons they’ll be checking it out, directly.
Naiad: You go ahead and feed the rest of these guys whatever you want to. I’m going hunting.
Invader cat: Amen! Amen! Amen!
Old Jules
Posted in 2012, America, Animals, Country Life, Nature, Wildlife
Tagged animals, cats, contaminated fish, culture, Events, home, Human Behavior, humor, Japan nuclear, Life, lifestyle, Nature, psychology, radioactivity, science, society, sociology, survival, Wildlife
http://www.rt.com/news/monsanto-brazil-seed-soy-908/
Monsanto is also the world’s largest manufacturer of synthetic bovine growth hormone, injected into cows in order to stimulate greater milk production. The widespread pressure by the company to use the chemical and the subsequent measures taken by Monsanto to suppress information regarding the potential health risks sparked uproar among American farmers.
When dairy producers that did not use Monsanto’s products began labeling their products as “Hormone Free” or “Organic”, Monsanto slapped them with a lawsuit as recently as 2008, claiming the labels amounted to negative advertising against hormone-produced milk.
Director of corporate communications for Monsanto, Phil Angell, summed up Monsanto’s take on the issue in a report by food author Michael Pollan for New York Times Magazine in 1998: “Monsanto should not have to vouch for the safety of biotech food. Our interest is in selling as much of it as possible. Assuring its safety is FDA’s job.”
http://rt.com/usa/news/white-house-monsanto-peer-991/
Michael Taylor, a former attorney for the US Department of Agriculture and lobbyist for Monsanto, was recently appointed to a federal role as the deputy commissioner for foods at the United States Food and Drug Administration (FDA). Since then, the FDA shot down requests from consumer protection groups to label genetically modified products as such. With a White House-Monsanto connection already established with the appointment of Taylor, PEER and others are interested in what other ties could exist between the two.
Heck, readers. There ought to be something a verbose man such as myself could think of to say about all this. I’d do it, too, if I could think of something.
Maybe I could point out those pointee-heads working three shifts in the Monsanto laboratories would call themselves ‘scientists’ if someone asked what they are. Same as the folks over at CERN.
Or maybe I could just ask the reasonable question: “Do you honestly believe one of the two breeds of foxes guarding the hen house is going to leave more feathers lying around when the dust settles?”
Old Jules
Posted in 2012, Animals, Government, Nature, Politics, Science
Tagged animals, culture, economy, environment, Events, Human Behavior, humor, Nature, politics, psychology, society, sociology
74 years old, a resident of Leavenworth, KS, in an apartment located on the VA campus. Partnered with a black shorthaired cat named Mister Midnight. (1943-2020)
Since April, 2020, this blog is maintained by Jeanne Kasten (See "About" page for further information).
https://sofarfromheaven.com/2020/04/21/au-revoir-old-jules-jack-purcell/
So Far From Heaven 