What if the worlde were mayde of thicke starres?

Hello and welcome to my online journal. I've been sent here by a daimon to write what thoughts I might be having at any particular moment of the day, though I evade the task when I can.

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Location: Berkeley, California, United States

A 22-year old girl full of fancy, admiring people and things with a passion hidden behind glass.

Sunday, June 22, 2008

Eat Food. Not too much. Mostly plants: Thoughts on Michael Pollan's In Defense of Food

If we understand ourselves (as we rightfully should) as primates evolved out of the earth and developed in a symbiotic relationship with that earth, none of America's well-known diseases - cancer, stroke, diabetes, heart failure, or obesity - make any sense. There is nothing about the natural world that could promote these kinds of health problems, especially since we have evolved with senses to help us discern what kinds of plants and animals are healthy to eat. Most cultures today evidence this same ability to eat food that sustains their lifestyle, except the most superficially rich country in the world, the United States. The reason for all this trouble here in America (and increasingly in other parts of the world, as cultural imperialism and globalization continue to spread the influence of American consumer culture) should be clear to any of us who have studied evolutionary biology - it is simply because of industrial processing of formerly natural and whole food that Americans have brought upon themselves these havoc-wreaking health problems.

Yet how many of us, however well we understand evolution, have actually internalized this fact to the degree that we absolutely refuse to eat any food that is not made of entirely natural ingredients? What really makes us think that industrial ingenuity will make us healthier, when the country where industrial food processing is at its most intense and pervasive has rates of obesity, diabetes, cancer, stroke, and heart disease that have, in the last 20 years, risen to absurd levels? Michael Pollan's In Defense of Food: An Eater's Manifesto is such a necessary book precisely because even the most educated among us can be confused about what it means to be healthy. The crucial point that he makes in the first two sections of the book is that, even if we have become rightfully skeptical about fast food and fictitious food (margarine, snack foods, soda, and sweets), contemporary nutritional science fools us into thinking about food in terms of vitamins and minerals, rather than as whole foods that have nourished the human race for thousands of years. This reductionist nutritionist approach, after being itself processed by media outlets (how often do we get our nutritional advice from reputable textbooks written by actual nutritional scientists?) reaches us and tends to emphasize specific micro- or macro-nutrients without any food, meal, or cultural context. This makes us all feel as if we will be eminently healthy people so long as we ingest the reccomended amounts of these nutrients, which mysteriously rise and fall in prominence as the (still maturing) "science of nutrition" decides.

While right now it seems like omega-3s will save our lives, the current widespread craze about infusing foods with these vitamins (and remember, even the big companies get in on this because sticking health claims on packaging is just another way to get profit) is senseless until we stop and ask - why did our lives need saving in the first place? Pollan shows how traditional diets, having survived centuries of trial and error and consisting only of natural, carefully grown vegetables, plants, grains, and meats, are consistently healthier for the populations that eat them than the typical American diet is for anyone. Though these cultures have survived very well without a cinch of nutritional knowledge, we Americans often find ourselves looking at the nutrition facts on the back of labels rather than the ingredient list. Pollan's point is that, no matter how many nutrients we discover to be healthy, it would probably be safer and more clear-headed in the meantime to simply see if the food is made of all natural (but be careful - even 7up advertises itself as 'all natural' now), pronounceable, and recognizable ingredients.

In recent weeks, before reading Pollan's book or really knowing anything about his message, I was eating Cliff bars several times a week because it seemed that I was getting a veritable bounty of vitamins in a compact, tasty, oat and soy energy bar. Though I did notice the high sugar content of these bars (around 22 grams!) I felt that this was probably well offset by the great calcium, protein, and other nutritional benefits that it would provide. The nutritionist logic here isn't too flimsy, and these bars probably aren't actually too bad for you, or at least it seems so. But whatever numbers might be able to tell us, successful food cultures around the world can probably tell us more. We have a right to be suspicious of such seemingly miracle foods, if not for any reason other than many things which seem too good to be true probably are. Pollan notes that though science may someday really have a full grasp of nutrition and be able to create an easily digestible superfood, for now we overfed and undernourished Americans would do well to look first at the diets based solely on the kinds of organic, plant-based foods that have been healthily sustaining peoples as diverse as the Greeks, Italians, Japanese, traditional Native American, and Inuit.

After doing away with the hubris of nutritional science and the profit-driven gall of the large processed food companies, Pollan prescribes some very simple principles of eating well in the third and final section of this very readable, well-written, and witty book. He describes what exactly he means by the cover slogan "Eat Food. Not Too much. Mostly Plants", pieces of advice which were originally very simple (and in fact necessary) for our ancestors to follow, but which have become highly complicated in our contemporary industrial era. Pollan, however, isn't arguing that we should eat bare food straight from the ground without any flavoring. He says we shouldn't even necessarily be eating "for" health. Instead, he argues that we would undoubtedly be both healthy and happy eaters so long as we choose local, organically or conscientiously grown foods (sometimes not the same thing - he says there will soon be "organic" coca-cola), and cook them ourselves more often than we currently do. The artificially created flavours of modern industry, while initially satisfying, simply cannot compete with the many natural herbs and spices available to nature and put to use by a good cook (or a good cookbook). Eating natural food, eating your own food at a leisurely pace, and leaving yourself a healthy variety of plants to choose from is the essence of his seven-word slogan.

If the only thing someone takes from Pollan's book is a promise never again to eat any food that contains High Fructose Corn Syrup or artificial sugars like Aspartame and always purchases natural, whole, unprocessed variants instead (if a natural variant of said food even exists), they will have made a guaranteed improvement to their diet and overall health. If everyone in the United States started following this single rule, there would be a revolutionary change in the food industry to start providing more legitimate food to the public at large. Imagine shelves all across America with completely undisturbed sections of snack chips, sodas, candy, and sugared cereal. So long as people were moving instead to the produce aisles, and increasingly afterwards to local farmer's markets, the entire country would be cleared away of millions of dollars worth of medical care, as well as reduce pollution and waste by nearly unfathomable amounts. How simple it seems to give up our Oreos, Fritos, Pepsis, and Lucky Charms for the sake of our health, environment, and livelihood! Michael Pollan's book is one first step towards this deceptively simple, natural, and primordial ideal.

If you don't have time to get and read the book, you should go to www.michaelpollan.com and look at some of the short articles he has posted, especially "Unhappy Meals" which is essentially a twelve-page condensation of the whole book: http://michaelpollan.com/article.php?id=87 . This article about global warming was particularly impacting: http://michaelpollan.com/article.php?id=92

Saturday, June 14, 2008

Ode to Tim Russert

There’s a hole in the world where a good man stood
And a vacuum in his place
Where the wind of sorrow rushes in
O’er the shadow of his face

Left in the wake of his wit and verve
The waters yet are rippled
Now the footprints of a giant to fill
With a loss that leaves us crippled

So who will raise the standard here
Where he fell and left it lying?
We have dear occasion now to rest
And think on our lives, crying.

Anchises; An Elegy on the Death of Tim Russert

I weep for Anchises, for he is dead... etc.
Tim Russert died today from a heart attack.
He was a little overweight.
His arteries were all clogged up.
He was a master journalist.
We have lost someone who would have given
masterful insight to this election season,
made it more authentic for all those who want the truth from politics
and not the empty rhetoric so easily spewed
by bigots like Ronald Reagan, George W. Bush, and Dick Cheney

I watched him last week on television,
after Obama had won the Democratic nomination
He was bearing a radiant smile
as he explained how historically momentous
the night was, and talked about
(but more importantly, showed)
his excitement for the upcoming campaign,
between Obama and John McCain
because he hoped there would be a straight-up
discussion about the big issues -
why each man thought their approach to America's situation was better
and not quibble over personal attacks or banal cultural concessions
"Politics will happen again," he said
and I shared his excitement.

Now I carry that excitement on after his death
and I will commemorate my commitment to his ideals
of exposing the truth, and giving to those in need
of always bringing honour and good humour to his work
by committing myself to healthy eating,
thus prolonging my life,
so that I might bring to the world
more of what was lost today.

Skirmish 5: The Winter's Bed; An Ode to Suicide

The leaves all have fallen
and the ground is covered with soot.
I walk to and fro
among the ruins of this city
fearing each step
will show me a face
of those whom I loved
but whom I can no longer know

This life has worth
now, only now, as I scrape
up the ashes and put them in my mouth
taste the desiccated bodies
of those who had borne me through
such tempestuous throes
as life is made of,
made me capable and fierce.

O, unreal God - fear not
that these are my last hours
for they have been made sweet
with resignation. The snowy scene
alights with an effervescence,
a brightness beyond light,
a levity that makes this hard earth
a beautiful scene for departure.

Skirmish 4: Eternity

I stooped to see
the face of eternity
when he pass'd my bench
and called me a pale wench.

He was a short little bugger,
a sniveling ugly hugger-mugger,
too ill-kempt for good taste
yet with a beguiling gleam 'pon his face.

He eye'd me close and said: "Fear not me
for you are bound to lie in the sea
the fate of one is the fate of all–
feel no need for it to forestall."

Skirmish 3: A Whorl of Dross

I

In the pale light of even
(yes, typical opening, I know)
the stars first make themselves evident
they awaken from the slumber of humility
Desperation is a rocky singer
dusting off his boots
on the shore of Santa Catalina island:
"I made champion out of a Clam;
I walk the borders of ecstasy
sipping on piña colada.
help me, O sweet anything"

II

Breaking upon the rocks
a little skinny white boy
pops his inner tube
shaped like a feckless green dragon
with bulging eyes.

III

That's all I need
Now, let me invoke the depths of hallowed Hell.
If ye hear me, O riotous powers o' the deep,
Ye fiends of the night who've so suffused
the land with all your drunken revelry
bane of men and women - hear me!
I am prophetess of lands forsaken by sense –
We have a project on our hands,
make the wheels work again.
Ah fie, I do not know what I speak of....

Skirmish 2: Ballast, Linguistically Sheen'd

Power, Majesty, Happiness, Life –
Words, words, words.
Dead before they exit
our breasts.
But these are only quotations...

I spoke and knew myself
to be better than fancy
had any right to make me.
Words are not fragile.
They can bound over you
they will even break you
Boundless monads.

Would our lovemaking feel
so mystical without wordplay mixed
in with foreplay? What is it to gape
at a waterfall without Shelleyean adjectives?
The memories of image have not subsisted.
What exists is the movement of the tongue.

Tuesday, June 10, 2008

Skirmish 1: I walked through life as a teenager and this is what I saw

I Walked through Life as a Teenager and This is What I Saw

I

There are many things in life
that one may be. One may be
a master of children; or
a well-draped singer; or
a youth pastor who placates
otherwise burning youths
with a nearly somnambulant smile; or
chimes in the morning; or
a sickly stump
who gets in people's way,
the dread host of a curse
that men/women tolerate
only because they think
(that is, they don't think
they've learned from 'merica)
that cruelty is the opposite of tolerance; or
an isolated paleskin, an amateur yogi
who warbles in public squares
and masturbates at home.

II

The noise of humans and their machines
crowds out the chirping and chanting of birds
making real what Keats feared in "La Belle Dame Sans Merci"
the time and place where no birds sing.

It is an existence uncooled,
still rumbling on with the groaning of animal instinct
(Bosses burst upon skinny secretaries by Thursday evening,
night watchmen flicker flashlights on and off at their own faces,
badly drawn tattoos of flaccid faunal majesty - eagles, tigers, snakes -
pasted on the backs of Christians)
but still so well shodden of important heat.

III

Offerings these days are made
on well-packed freeways
where fat Dad
and lipstick Mom
race their machines to work--
Steel'd and rubber'd hecatombs to Oblivion.

Friday, June 6, 2008

Homosexuality and Genetics

A quick article that I found after listening to Tegan and Sara and wondering about the role of genetics in determining homosexuality:

http://www.thetech.org/genetics/ask.php?id=155

If you didn't know - Tegan and Sara are a band of twin sisters who are also both gay.