Monsanto to Michelle: Please panic, don’t go organic

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Ain’t no tyranny like that of a good example, I guess. Case in point: Michelle Obama and her organic White House veggie garden. Seems she’s not only gotten some corporate panties in a twist, she’s given them an Atomic Wedgie. The last thing the pesticide industry wants is for her to grow food for her children without dumping toxic shit all over it:

Did you hear the news? The White House is planning to have an “organic” garden on the grounds to provide fresh fruits and vegetables for the Obama’s and their guests. While a garden is a great idea, the thought of it being organic made Janet Braun, CropLife Ambassador Coordinator and I shudder. As a result, we sent a letter encouraging them to consider using crop protection products and to recognize the importance of agriculture to the entire U.S. economy.

You can read the whole letter at the La Vida Locavore link. It’s heavy on generalizations and carefully crafted language, but light on honesty and openness. And no wonder. If they said what they really were and what they were really about, they’d never get a hearing.

“CropLife Ambassadors” is their cute euphemism for pesticide industry lobbyists and shills. “Crop protection products” is their cute euphemism for pesticides. Presumably things grow better when covered with toxic, carcinogenic crap.

Well, I know one thing that grows better that way: Big Chem’s profit margin. But veggies? Pppppfffft. It’s amazing how much you can do without that extra outlay (and without poisoning anyone or anything.) I grow my own veggies–and enough to give away to family and friends–without any pesticides, herbicides or chemical fertilizers. All I put on them is mine own humble compost (and the occasional tinfoil wrapper around my tomato stems, to baffle the cutworms). They grow like weeds. And the weeds? Well, some are edible, and those that aren’t, are still compostable.

Not only that, but when you don’t dump pesticides on your plants, you actually encourage insects to control the pests. Stands to reason: How’s a praying mantis gonna eat your pests if it’s getting poisoned? And what about the honeybees (and other pollinators, such as bumbles, flies, wasps, butterflies, etc.)?

And there is ample scientific evidence to support the idea that organic is the right way to go, be it for healthfulness, flavor and even–gasp–output. Yes, it’s true–organic crops produce better, all around. Who’da thunk? Us organic gardeners, that’s who. My full freezer and pantry don’t lie. By the time I finish using up last year’s frozen ORGANIC tomatoes, I’ll have started harvesting this year’s new crop!

I’m pretty sure Michelle O. will give this inane missive a quick, polite read-through (perhaps narrowing her pretty eyes with skepticism), and then toss it like the smart lady she is. And then she’ll go back to her organic garden, confident in the knowledge that she’s growing a better crop. In every sense.

PS: Things just got worse for Monsanto and Co. Germany just outlawed their Frankencorn.

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Posted in Environmentally Ill | 6 Comments

Quotable: George Monbiot on the end of corporate impunity

“For two centuries corporations and governments from the rich world have treated the people they encounter overseas as nothing but obstacles to the extraction of resources, who — when they could not be enslaved to assist that work — had to be disposed of as expeditiously as possible: by bribery, deception, terror or massacre. The richer the resources a land possesses, the more viciously its inhabitants are treated. Now these inconvenient people might begin to be seen as human beings.”

–George Monbiot, “Shell: Corporate impunity goes on trial”

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An unsung Venezuelan hero gets his due, in documentary form

Video in Spanish.

“A Coup and a Letter” tells the story of Juan Rodríguez, a soldier of the Venezuelan army, who carried a hand-written message from his president to the people. When Juan realized that Chavecito hadn’t resigned, that he was being held prisoner against his will and that of the people, he knew he had to act. Until now, he has remained a largely unsung hero in the rescue of democracy that took place on this day in 2002. No longer.

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Back to the novel, back to bliss (kinda sorta)

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“Writing is easy: All you do is sit staring at a blank sheet of paper until drops of blood form on your forehead.”

–Gene Fowler

Well, not quite. If, as I do, you do most of your writing on a computer screen rather than a sheet of paper, you have to stare at some other blank thing while waiting for those drops of blood to form. But the essential process is the same: You sit, you wait, you feel the prickle of something wet and salty coalescing on your brow, and you hope to Goddess it’s only sweat and not blood.

Or, if you’re lucky, you already have your basic ideas tentatively mapped out on a scratchpad, and only have to sit down and get back to fleshing ’em out, as I did today to the tune of over a thousand words. A thousand words better than the first thousand I wrote in that lost first draft–or “first drift”, as I prefer to call it, since that’s what it was. It wandered off course a lot. Sometimes it stalled in the doldrums, and I spent countless pages trying to find something to say again that would get my little craft back into the great current. I was often unsure as to whether to steer it into the Gulf Stream or the Benguela.

This time I know where I want it to go, or at least I’m pretty sure I know better. I’m not yet quite at the point of making like Lawrence of Arabia, who exulted when the first draft of Seven Pillars of Wisdom went missing: “I’ve lost the damned thing!”

But I’m getting close. This first draft is definitely easier. I got out my thousand words in under an hour (and no, writing for eight hours a day at this pace would not result in eight thousand words; it would result in me swiftly losing my mind. Which I need, thankyouverymuch.)

And while the prose is much more unadorned than it was the first time, it’s also clearer and cleaner, and also considerably more compressed–which is always better for a novel, because any damned idiot can write purple prose that says nothing for several pages at a stretch. It takes a real Albert Camus, or a Hemingway, to pack a lot into what looks like few words. (I don’t know if I’m at the level of them yet, either, but I know I’m closer to it than I was this time last time ’round.)

So this is what you do when you’ve lost the damned thing: You take time to regroup, rethink, and then…re-write.

And once you get started, you feel stronger, and you rejoice, too. Because this is what you’re good at, and you know it’s what you’re meant to do.

And then, feeling only a little bit paranoid, you’ll save the whole thing to a recently purchased flash drive, and hope that the brand-new Time Machine your whole pute is backed up on will also do its duty without fail, and preserve a second backup in the event that this pute, too, should cack out.

And in the meantime, you strive to have confidence that this second first draft will truly be better than the first.

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Music for a Sunday: The only capitalism I care for

Of course, it’s foreign:

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Wankers of the Week, and other people who can fuck the hell off

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Who’s been playing with themselves in public? Who needs to put it away before they get arrested for gross indecency? Well, this week, it is…

1. “Dr.” Laura Fucking Schlessinger. You’d think she’d learn to practice what she preached and just shut the fuck up and go back to her kitchen like a good little Hausfrau from Hell. But no. In spite of all the sponsors who’ve dropped her crappy show, it’s still a lucrative cottage industry, this fine art of being a queen bee who hates women. Get a load of this antifeminist wankfest:

For a long time, I was a career woman and that was it. I didn’t want to have a baby. But I kept feeling as if something was not there. Then one day, I was watching PBS Nova, and a one-hour program they showed on the creation of a life. I just broke down. At that time, I was 35 and had already had my tubes tied. But in that moment, I realized what was missing: this womanly part of me. So I got married, struggled a bit to get pregnant and finally made it happen after a surgery.

Now, if that’s not rubbing salt, I don’t know what is. The question is, whose wound is she rubbing salt into–that of people who can no longer afford to work for a living (because their employers dicked them out of everything in the name of profit, including enough money for daycare), or herself at a certain age (by which she should surely have known better than to bawl over some stupid TV show)?

Christ, Laura, you sound like a woman who doesn’t do a whole lot of thinking ahead of time. Maybe you should try it sometime, like before you wax all melodramatic again for the Wall Street Urinal–or pose for some of the worst nude photos ever.

PS: That “life” you went out of your way to “create” sure turned out great.

2. Glenn Fucking Beck. Forget the fictional Bush Derangement Syndrome, this pasty doughball has a very real case of Obamamonomania:

This dude is so batshit crazy (and such a lousy, unconvincing crier when he gets “emotional” about his country) that a British comedian basically ate his lunch here:

On the not-so-funny side, he also has a massacre to answer for.

3. Camille Fucking Paglia. Turn up your speakers, kiddies, and hear the grating-voiced shrew of academic wanna-beism get it hilariously wrong once again:

Liberal hosts like to snap and snip and chortle snidely, but they are weighed down by a complacent superiority complex, a paralyzing sanctimony. They mistake irony for wit. The conservative hosts love to rant and stomp and bring down the house. They’re doing breakneck vaudeville while liberal hosts are primly stirring their non-caffeine green tea.

Clearly, someone hasn’t been listening to Mike Malloy. When he’s done cleaning Rush Fucking Limbaugh’s clock, maybe he can do hers. It sounds like it hasn’t been keeping proper time for quite a while now. Just keeps saying “Cuckoo!” non-stop.

4. Maggie Fucking Gallagher. I was wondering what had happened to this tragic old trout after she took BushCo’s money and ran. Well, now we have an answer: She’s been busy trying to save poor oppressed heterosexuals’ marriages from people who have not the slightest interest in breaking them up. Nice to know that all that taxpayer money has been so well spent. Maybe next time, the good people of the United States might want to chip in and get her one of these instead?

5. This fucking moran right here:

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I don’t know what he’s trying to say, and I suspect he doesn’t either. But I do know this: Freedom of speech is wasted on people who can’t formulate a coherent thought, much less spell it out correctly.

6. T. Boone Fucking Pickens. Look, dude: I don’t know what you have against state oil companies, much less ones “run” by Chavecito (for the benefit of all Venezuelans, I might add). But if you wanna run your all-Amurrican gas guzzlers on natural gas, be my guest. How fast did you say you could fart, again?

7. Spencer Fucking Bachus. I had no idea this clown was until this week. I wish I still didn’t, because he sounds like the reincarnation of Joe Fucking McCarthy.

8. Whoever the fuck thought it would be a good idea to use Canada as a proxy for US imperialism–and the destabilization “democratization” of Venezuela. Not MY home and native land, not with MY tax dollars, and not in MY name you don’t, assholes!

9. And finally, anyone who thinks I’m being too hard on these whackjobs. Head out of ass, and fuck you very much.

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Festive Left Friday Blogging: Chavecito in Japan

The Big Guy’s recent trip to Japan was a resounding success on the economic front; he brought a heap of foreign investment in that will surely nauseate the opposition all to hell (seeing as they no longer monopolize the oil industry, and their privatization attempt was constitutionally thwarted. Kiss all that easy dinero goodbye, muchachos!)

But never let it be said that he was all business:

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No matter where he is, no matter what he’s doing, no matter how crazy-busy his schedule gets, he always makes the time to make some little one’s day. Sweet!

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Quotable: Helen Keller on socialism

“How did I become a Socialist? By reading. The first book I read was Wells’ New World for Old. I read it on Mrs. Macy’s recommendation. She was attracted by its imaginative quality, and hoped that its electric style might stimulate and interest me. When she gave me the book, she was not a Socialist and she is not a Socialist now. Perhaps she will be one before Mr. Macy and I are done arguing with her. “

Helen Keller, “How I Became a Socialist”

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G-20 death: Lies in the London press

In case you were wondering if British newspapers are as right-wing biased and full of lies as those on this side of the Atlantic, the answer is yes. Watch the video of Ian Tomlinson being hit in the legs and pushed from behind by police. Who goes to his aid? Who doesn’t? Then, watch the video of the two young guys who were there as eyewitnesses (and part of the anti-summit demonstration). And after that’s done, you might want to refer back to the video of the stricken man collapsing again. You’ll see quite clearly that the newspaper was lying to make the cops look better, and the demonstrators much worse, than they actually were.

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Cops Behaving Badly: Slugfest in Slovakia

According to this report, the police forced these Romany Gypsy boys to hit one another. Why they did it is still unknown, but I suspect old ingrained prejudice may have something to do with it.

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