Saturday, March 28, 2009

Granting Rants.....

Taking a break from reading in close detail all 117 pages of HR 875.....the establishment of the Food Security Agency. Which apparently will require me and all of my suppliers and everyone I know to register as food producers, file massive paperwork, and be subject to another layer of inspection above and beyond Roger from MoCoHealth.

Did I mention the million dollar fines? Which dollars will be used to finance even more scrutiny and further fines?

No one believes me that I am a Republican. I am a business guy. I hate douche bag Democrats.

This is the kind of crap that brought us eight years of George Bush....which was even worse than DoucheBag Democrats.

Well, maybe. Cachagua, we have no trouble with finding roads and paths to alternative forms of stimulation. Now, instead of hiding sinsemilla plants from the helicopters....we will be hiding raised beds of aji chiles (the seeds of which were smuggled in from Peru by former Pine Cone food writers...perhaps as a dry run for plutonium seeds).

According to the legislation......sponsored by food producers will have to notify the Federal Government when we change our recipes.

Well, I am only halfway through the bill.

Oh.....and the competing Republican bill is even worse. one listens to me. I howled at the moon when Obama appointed Junior Dick Panetta to continue running all the bad shit at the CIA. I also howled at the moon when Obama appointed Governor emptyBallSack to be Secretary of Agriculture. The result of the emptyBallSack appointment for each and every one of us is infinitely worse than the Panetta deal.

Few of us are actually very dark-skinned, with Arab-sounding names, and therefore subject to internment, incarceration, transportation to black sites in countries with more consonants than vowels......

Hmmm. Perhaps except for folks like Barack Hussein Obama!

All of us, however, are currently sinking under the thumb of a federally supported food autocracy that throws billions of dollars after empty calories. If you thought the Wall Street bonus thing was have not been paying attention. This shit has been going on in Ag for decades. Half the members of Cypress Point are bankers and money people...the other half are rice farmers.

In 1940, it required one calorie of energy input to produce 2.3 calories of food energy. Today, it takes 10 calories. And each and every one of the missing nine calories are federally sponsored, tax-funded, and distributed to the top 1%. It is the American Way.

So, the Obama folk....instead of cutting the nuts off Archer Daniels Midland and returning us to some faint hope of a rational food/chemical/water policy that might someday lead to moderately healthy food some of us can afford....has decided to hunt for microbes on Johnny Kinder's farm in Cachagua. (John has two clients: us and Tassajara).

And put in place an entire new bureaucracy to hunt these future possible microbes. So now, instead of just having to take off your shoes before you fly to Portland.....there will also apparently be hot and cold running TSA style Filipinos combing the hills of Santa Cruz County checking out the hippy farmers for e-coli.

I have been trying to earn a food living while trying to write about the amazing seminar I audited last week about sustainable raising of cattle. The insanity of these new food bills leads me to think that I should instead sell my house and spend my time walking around Whole Foods stores with picket signs and automatic weapons.

Wait a minute. Nothing has changed, really. In my world view, every Whole Foods should already be surrounded by chefs and farmers armed with picket signs and automatic weapons.....but I digress.

In the course of my native grassland class, I learned a lot of stuff. The team leaders were a crazy redneck with a bad surfing jones from Yolo County, and a nutty rancher from Petaluma. I say "crazy" and "nutty" in the non-perjorative way. The Yolo County guy is a serious cowboy poet and photographer....along with running all the outdoor science for his county. The cc's from emails that I have gotten since last week from them are very nice....they liked the food....but the subject matter makes CSI-Miami seem like Mr. Roger's Neighborhood.

Table 1. A comparison of Globo H and SSEA3 expression in
BCSCs and non-BCSCs Positive Glycan and No. of population patients

Globo H or SSEA3 expression was determined by flow cytometry as described
in Materials and Methods. BCSCs were defined as CD45 CD24 CD44 cells, and
non-BCSCs were defined as the remaining populations of CD45 cells.
*Range was calculated as percentage of positive cells in total cells.
†Among the 53 tumor samples, 28 were examined for the expression of both
Globo H and SSEA3, 13 were tested for Globo H only, and the remaining 12
were tested for SSEA3 only.
‡Tumor cells from 1 of the 41 patients showed an absence of CD24 CD44
subpopulation. cgi doi 10.1073 pnas.0808811105

Yeah, well. These Cow People were clearly not just Cow People.

I did get to ask the main question that had been troubling me about rural cattle/cowboy life:

If you have a horse that is prone to bucking and bad it true that breaking a bag of water over his neck will freak him out?

Supposedly the misbehaving horse will think that it is his own warm blood that is pouring down his neck and he will stand still for a moment.

The Yolo guy had heard this, but never tried it. The Petaluma guy had heard this from his dad.

On a break from the class, I asked Grant.

Oh, yeah.....I have heard that. Break a bag of water, and he thinks his throat is cut.....and he stands still long enough to get control.

Any comparison to our current financial "crisis" is not called for.

Grant and I got to talking....

Conall is now free from his last film and ready to focus on his film about Grant. Yesterday he came up with the original Monterey Herald article about Grant whacking that dude in the ass with an axe.

"Carmel Valley Man Sought in Axe Attack".

Grant discovered his girlfriend in the sack with a younger man....and hit him in the ass with an axe.

Well, a hatchet.

Grant ran for the hills....and successfully hid out for three years until his teeth let him down.

Years later, after giving up and serving his time.....Grant found himself in a NA meeting with the kid who he had chopped.

At breaktime in the meeting it turned out that they both reached for the last donut at the same time, and each had a part of it in grasp.

The room got very quiet......

Grant broke the silence:

"Listen.....I know I have been a pain in the ass in the past. Butt.....let's bury the hatchet. Don't you think it is time to turn the other cheek?"

The Kid....Forever known as Three Cheeks....did not laugh.

Everyone else did!