Feed aggregator

People eventually look like what they’ve eaten. When I look at those big chicken ads from some well-known brands, it does resemble a great majority of birdlike eaters. The masting doesn’t stop at the coop, as the antibiotics and other “unknown” additives also do not stop at the priming mill. It all ends in a full cycle, of which I am in the midst of receiving its full-fledged doses, of whatever the thing has eaten (freely or not) and of which I am eating now, and who may later be eating of me. Well, these kind of thoughts get dingy and wacky, so let me get back to what is best to eat in the first place of choosing:

Food Chart

This Food Chart can give a little guide of relevance, but it does not take away from using your own common sense and looking for buys grown in your local region (at least continent) and sold at your local market.

Going along these simple guidelines may make us all healthier and smarter to get along with the next few years, as we are going to need our smarts and guts to be dealing wisely with an economy gone sour and a political system gone mad.

1. Eat foods that are grown in an area your body lives in (if it cannot survive where you live, maybe you cannot after a while either)

2. Buy foods from a market where you know the farmer – the weekly farmer “bio” market .

3. Only eat when and what amount you really need, the rest you save for harder times or give to those still right in need.

4. Cook or steam your vegetables, cook well your meat or fish and never skip on breakfast (only if it’s a donut).

5. Eat with friends and family at least once a week, or share it with a fisherman’s wife.

6. Avoid food wrapped or packaged in plastics.

7. Say your peaceful blessings before every meal and be grateful to be able to walk to work.

8. Think why you are needing something before you buy it, no matter what, and if this need was heavy weighed on a corporate balance sheet, or really your basic nutritious need of existence.

9. What good dream do you last remember and what needs this fulfillment.

10. Stop being a clone and stuffed chicken.

Reblogged from The GOLDEN RULE:

A diagram of cognitive dissonance theory. Dissonance reduction can be accomplished in various ways, broadly including the addition of more, consonant elements, or else changing the existing elements. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Again, from Sott.net. their own post by Timothy C.Trepanier.

Nothing is more sad than the death of an illusion. ~ Arthur Koestler

Our greatest illusion is to believe that we are what we think ourselves to be.

Read more… 680 more words

To spot the resort a close friend was visiting in Perros-Guirec, I landed on this stunning site:

Walking in the air

What man has done upon my skin, to shed the dirt below my skills, I play about and skirt my kin.
Never die before I live, the dancing creatures silent mixtures weighing nothing extracting less.
To swim below the dangers high, she ducks and dives the misty waters. No places more to hide and seek, left alone the thieves of grey.

Yes, I recognize quite well the size of masters untrue to our blessings given, the more a loud voice crackles dull and faint, the more our hearts expand to sea..
The Botox robots trimmed of feelings mimicking the likes of Hitler, I spot the fully bearded coasts of dawning seagulls sheltered briskly from a camera made of grace to plea upon our gutted truths.

1. When times are stormy and the snow flakes heavy, keep your icon low and lay yourself to rest.

2. Be unique and not afraid to show your blemished color blush, or fair, or lashed in midnight greys.

3. Smell nasty in odor to ward-off the big eaters in friendly disguise. These flowers do really smell awful and it is very easy to keep one’s distance. To fall prey to manipulation with such a mantle attained, is nearly impossible and for sure your queendom’s saviour.

The snow drop itches smoothly to a flattened earth,
my belly thumbs the lion-ness to spray the killing scent,
no manipulation of my inner sides,
the soul I spare and shed the light
when the shine be bright.

One beezing summer comes to rest uncritical in devotion to the colors flashed,
the stab is quick the pains endured in gasps she blooms once more.
Just once displayed but always there, the beauty to herself.

We’ve had a taste of it, the after-work apéro’s, the social net-works, the workaholics, the working-mom’s, the works. We are the smart shopper, the nobel mistress, the widowed shareholder, the start-up entrepreneur’s motivation, and we know our bodies better than our 20-year lasting spouse.

In dance we follow, but allow our eyes to sparkle when the turns come real to our dearest dreams. The dinner we rosily lip with lover’s delight, in tune to softly spoken words of truth. Sensual pleasures enlighten our virgin visage and keep secret to ourselves, lest the world take part. A woman is a child, as a man is a boy. I love both and cherish the day Pope Mary gives flowers to the girl next in line.

“Die Geburt gefolgt der Tod” – it may sound in one spoken tongue, the birth and re-birth is a feminine act, as death do us part an established predicament. The energy compounds and dwindles and flows and re-catches and gathers to joy before exploding its slim passage to solemn waters in caved glowing flesh.

Nature thinks different from man and woman seeks nature not yet realizing its powers to merge substance to substance formerly me. Death be present before I live now, treating seriously the challenge the woman I am.

In 12 minutes and 8 seconds the head of the “Boeoeg” was blown-off, forecasting a short fading of our Swiss winter.

Mit Zunft und Zapfen besteigen die Helden auf neuste Gespann,
Die Zuhauer umlauern die Wurst mit Bueuerli und Senft,
Das Maedel schoen locker vom Hocker zum Fiaker Separée,
Doch der Spross-ling nimmer satt vom Zucker-Wat-te,
Fiebert schlimmes im Gschehen und schleichet da-von..

Zum Petit-Fleure im nu und Madame Schmetterling froehlichst gelung,
Macht sich der Bub zum Manne naechst der Rotenfabrik.
Gesponne gesponne was i da doch schrieb, sei fromme und schaffe,
dass di Mutter di liaebt.

e.g.

The meaning of dance and connection to me

When I allow my body to connect to the magic of the night, all space is clear and full of bright loopy lights.
The darkness shines and uploads my heart, to rhythms felt from my toes to dipper’s kingdom.
Steps, swirls, sways and side-kicks heave-off, like wings grown upon my upper arms epiderm- is.
Non too quick and all the more slow, we dancers unite while staying as stone-d to deftness.

The music lends ears to the blood-pumping heart, and all my forgiving shows freely unspoken of words. Ask me not to stop stepping my traits, ask me not to stop pleading for guiding the falls in trances of posed melody, ask me just to be there and lead on the way the dance has composed.

A man marches forward and gestures his folded hands.
His eyes heed well the needed graceful path.
She melts into the floor and emerges re-born.
Sun unloaded and moon’s delight.

Wolf von Niebelschütz “Die Kinder der Finsternis”

Easter Sunday

A sitting in for Sunday’s sake. The table talk is clear and calm, we pass the butter and the grains; true to color and our charms, someone drops the honey jar and all stay put engulfed themselves with stuffy cheeks around their jaws. The cat’s delight to tender smartly that which licks-off genteelly, our mother glances off with glee.

The vitamins are fit and mighty, none too less we might stay right and mind to core, adjust our meals. Energy comes and splurges in creamy streaking leaks of light; father’s hands wipe up the covers and toss the cross around his gills. So the morning lingers gay and all my cousins stomp to stutter on the lawn to moan and groan a happy day.

The sister itching up the spread talks smoothly to her sneaked in lad. No buttered toast or slimy oats could catch his buds to taste the blues stick tightly to his trimmed down filly sockets. Uncle Gabriel to prost the juice and fits of pastimes pleased, we enjoy the eggs found in our neighbors seas.

The reading of Wolf von Niebelschütz “Die Kinder der Finsternis”

We all know that white bread is not good for our health, but why?

The Swiss government has been aware of the dangers of eating white bread for decades and in order to get its populace to stop eating it, Switzerland has placed a tax on the purchase of white bread. The tax money is given to bakers to reduce the price of whole wheat bread to encourage people to switch. The Canadian government passed a law prohibiting the “enrichment” of white bread with synthetic vitamins. Bread must contain the original vitamins found in the grain, not imitations. Essentially, white bread is “dead” bread. Frequently, consumers are not told the truth about this and so-called “enriched” flour.

Why is the color of white bread so white when the flour taken from wheat is not?

It’s because the flour used to make white bread is chemically bleached, just like you bleach your clothes. When you are eating white bread, you are also eating residual chemical bleach. Flour mills use different chemical bleaches, all of which are pretty bad.

Here are a few of them :
oxide of nitrogen, chlorine, chloride, nitrosyl and benzoyl peroxide mixed with various chemical salts.

One bleaching agent, chloride oxide, combined with whatever proteins are still left in the flour, produces alloxan. Alloxon is a poison and has been used to produce diabetes in laboratory animals. Chlorine oxide destroys the vital wheat germ oil. It will also shorten the flour’s shelf life.

Good Nutrition: You Won’t Find It In White Bread In the process of making flour white, half of the good unsaturated fatty acids, that are high in food value, are lost in the milling process alone, and virtually all the vitamin E is lost with the removal of wheat germ and bran.

As a result, the remaining flour in the white bread you buy, contains only poor quality proteins and fattening starch. But that is not the whole story as to the loss of nutrients. About 50% of all calcium, 70% of phosphorus, 80% iron, 98% magnesium, 75% manganese, 50% potassium, and 65% of copper is destroyed. If that is not bad enough, about 80% thiamin, 60% of riboflavin, 75% of niacin, 50% of pantothenic acid, and about 50% of Pyridoxine is also lost.

Scientific Study Has Confirmed What The Swiss Have Known For Years.
These horrific numbers are the results of a thorough study run by the University of California, College of Agriculture. It is obvious, from what we have learned, that white bread should be avoided. Whole wheat, rye, and grain breads made with whole wheat flour are a better way.

It is a good idea to always read the labels and never buy foods that contain: artificial flavors, colors, bleached flour, preservatives, hydrogenated or partially hydrogenated oils. What E’s in food are good for you?

I write to clear my thoughts and hit the keys with strength, sometimes missing in mind. The keys they vibrate and click in response to outer vigor and look not above to see the small culprit beating its pruned flesh upon a smooth plastic coat. The ignition is set within the skull from sparkles surging wall to wall in an endangered corpus relict. Straight lines are fantasy, as is true life a dream; darting bowed bellied arrows shoot speedily cress-crossing and nearly missing frivol paths out of sight, but in hitting, the bold words dance sternly to code-in whatever I’d wished for.
Loosened from grounded hitches, I step-up the mode and find bewildered the speckled virgin confronting my solemn gaze. In beating my tendons to stretch-out in curved delight, I gather momentum and sweet whisper the small print. Forgive my long absence and ignorance to exist beyond sight, energy flows on its own through walls of solid steel and mushy ligaments – to heed to my failures and short-comings is kissed non too quick, love and vulnerability may eat out a panther’s foreskin, but never in heaven will it prey to a tampered olive seed.

Day 6 of my German reading and still it’s raining outside, Easter Friday. A visit to Chagall’s Church to take in the most of the day’s light to consume the flashing colors streaming through the painted windows. Friendships and family ties to those we have lost through marriage, but keep to enslave our hearts, unfree to the next shore whose gifts lay present for your independent iris gleam. A means of triggering the straight lane through life, is to take the obstacles and passages leading to islands in the sky. Mere thoughts can steer you to glitter or gutter, mere passion feeds your glory, but thoughtful passion feeds life.

If you don’t have something nice to say, don’t say it. You look nice. The rain moistens the seeds, the clouds cover my grim thoughts and the Church bells bring the children to sing to the world. Each step we take may be unique for our physique. Each turn leads to untainted terrain. Teach what is new to those not stepping far. Be true I am to the stranger I find within and grateful for the friend circling in spheres parallel.

This will go on for a while, so if you are not into German, this is not for you! d4 of 365 and counting..

As a relationship needing words, may have found its limitations, so is true literature pressed through ones mind seeing that which cannot be shown and speaking that which is hidden. Today I cherish peaches in dust, tomorrow they turn pink in layers of leaflets on fire.

Thoughts and fantasies have been with us as long as man has been able to put passionate elements to print. Greediness, egomaniac, fraud, malpractice, as well as gratefulness, appreciation, love, hate, sorrow and happiness (to name a few states of emotion) guide our paths of living the human life – materialism may bring us to fall before the earth can make us her own, my hope is my leader and my vision for true care to be borne into our kind.

My commitment to read as best I can and for as long as I can. For words of improvement I am very grateful, from each and every passionate reader.

Play your game with passion, beyond the goal of time

When I first started at my profession, I could not imagine myself doing this for longer than 3 years. It has been over 15 years since I took up my first book-keeping job. As I consider myself outgoing, sportive, and daring, how in the world could I be a finance person for most of my professional years. Numbers are more exciting than first recognizable, because through numbers creation begins and only numbers can make or break a system. People, materials and energy support numbers in all different ways. Numbers can keep you up all night (like looking for that dollar never booked but paid for), or put you to sleep with a single flash of trillions taxed up to the moon. Numbers live their own lives and do not bother who carries them on or who deletes the right ones to be left in the dark for others to see red on a balance sheet. Numbers do not lie, only its interpretations. Numbers lay silent before your eyes and hold facts the world cannot deny. Numbers can sooth and frustrate and be trusted more dear than your mother’s full breast.

And yet, we honor the glamor and glitter and forget how our lives ourselves are mere numbers in time. At 50 years earth time dwelling, I see my own life as a short-term existence, a tree brings a mid-term presence and perhaps our earth may reach a long-term goal. As even the sun may lose its fireball over the next trillion years ahead of us, or least man may first kindle the ground unfertile in defeat of the sun, the earth’s looping is hitched to the number scheme.

How does all of this fit with my header? I tend to think big, act small, live in awareness of some basic limitations, but endless fantasies and encourage healthy minds to multiply their good deeds done like Colin Salmon’s message. “Accept your part in the world and stand up, stop waiting for others to live your life for you. Be obsessive about your passion and play the game for play.” Numbers are not just about currency, but about finding your passion in life.

“What porcupine has kissed you lately?” Well, none but some thorny red raspberry bushes I’d wanted to collect its berries from turned sour and left me a bit red-marked in shame. Leave it to those plants to bully away unwelcome thief’s, uncanny of a well-timed season to offer full ripeness in due course of the upcoming harvest. Lessons usually hurt and those leaving marks, dig deep into my skin. The stretches of limbs and the extensions of thoughts trigger beyond the boundaries a fairy earth-dweller may chant solemnly in mirrors of aching pained bosses who pay not to the glamour of shiny light-headed cavemen in peach wardrobes and golden fortresses of caramel tainted covers. I may not change this world on its course in our galaxy, but I can change the linen and cook a simple local meal.

The new steps make me fall to the ground and heave-off my shoulders the weight I couldn’t hold. Admiring the multitude of tongues confronting a solid gaze, she takes one stride back while reaching the opened hand forward and finds useful ground to ponder on.

May I see the sun in all my darkness, may I feel warm in all our wealth.

Community dance is committment at its core and a practical way to ignore obscure interests, while developing individuals for a new common wealth.

In dance I am myself and see the nakedness of our clothed minds mingling to open our stiff lips for some fresher aire.

I wish to dance as high as an eagle can fly, as deep as whale can swim, as far as a camel can stride and as long as my lungs will laugh to the rhythm of Royston Maldoom.

Community Dance

Aluminum dropped from the skies in tune to Monsanto’s lies who make corn to fill our engines and resist the metals grown into our ears driven cell-free to hear my lover’s heart beat pulsating next his thoughts tend to chores none his own rather bellied-up for the corporation whose text I’ve learned well and sing silent on tip toes to work a jam in the rugged park Chreis Vier.

Clean air blue skies clear waters sparkling silver flounder peachy marmored mermaids stocky muscled warriors bronzed on timber lusting through my virgin veins in silky wedded sheets of bambus covers – this I dream and create in thought to live a life a human can in twilight with the smallest sprout I find at Migros-City.

I’ve cut the Wireless and switched-off the i-pod to see first hazel juice upon my child’s tugged-up Barbie in plastic legs around my stockings bent to cobra cows of arching dogs in sunny Florida on a hot sandy strip of scotch.

Zuerisee and my inner drive

It is believable without doubts of authenticity, some plausible accounts across the web, on what lies behind the stories.  What makes people do such awesome things towards other people?  You need to understand their own history.  It doesn’t make it right or wrong, it just makes it more understandable.  Fairytales are rare to find, even their more gruesomeness prevails in reflection on its details, as individuals carry their own DNA history since man has borne his kin – these DNA program our lives and can be changed through what each of us learn and change within our own lives – but, this change will alter the DNA of our history and our own offspring with it.  So it all begins with understanding.  We cannot save the world or save our culture or save our people, we can save our attitude and multiply our energy by paying attention to our own patterns and its origin.

People will most likely choose naïvety and to be gullible, before burdening their minds with thinking for their own.  It is easy and safe, to believe the mainstream media and the mainstream folks.  This we cannot change and we are too many people on this earth – fact. We have multiplied ourselves and are now the greatest virus threat our planet has ever seen.  What is happening to us is happening through natures influence over us, to save its own self – the earth or balance within our colorful galaxy.