If you knew how fucked the fuck up farm raised salmon was from the gate you would only eat pork. Per volume it is filled with the most anti-biotics of any meat. Put it to you this way… Farm raised salmon is bad for you. Period.
So when this biotech company, AquAdvantage, is pushing a salmon that has been genetically modified to remove all the bad shit that comes from raising these fish in the filthy water conditions of fisheries I think we should all embrace the future.
Besides, they have prA’li been pushing genetically altered salmon on us for the last decade since they invented the process. Think about all the shit you already eat that has been made different from science. Seedless watermelons are modified. How the hell can a watermelon NOT have seeds. That’s like a person not having sperm or ovaries.
^ Study how the vic getting clapped on gets transformed into the British Petroleum dandelion. It really works that way too. In a few thousand years all the bodies of the people who were merc’ked by the Khmer Rogue will become some fossil fuel we will use to do the shit what we do.
Altho’ the Deepwater Horizon oil rig disaster is wild bad (I suppose) it was bound to happen sooner or later and its likely to happen again and again. The problem isn’t British Petroleum who contracted TransOcean to put the hole in the ground underwater. The problem is you. And me. But really, its more you. You see I recognize that shit like what happened in the Gulf is what happens in the world when niggas need iPhone 4Gs, Snuggies, sneakers, audiobooks and even plastic bags. Sheeeeeeed, paper too.
You can close this drop right now if you want or you can face the truth that you and your fake ass righteousness has always been the problem. You want to save the Earth but you steady killing it. You don’t want to be a racist but you tacitly approve the lynching of Black males. You want to be a vegetarian but your lying ass knows how much you love the taste of bacon on your lips. British Petroleum is your dealer and you are such an addict if they weren’t here you would go across the street corner to get your fix.
We rely on petroleum for EVERY FUCKING THING in our lives. EVERYTHING. You want to challenge me on that?!? Good luck, but you still can’t handle the truth. You don’t have the mental ability, determination or courage to live above petroleum production. The difference between you and I is that I won’t try to fool myself about the issue. There are drilling apparatus that have penetrated the Earth for greater than 6 miles (over 30,000ft) because you need the blood of your ancestors that badly. So as long as you read this weblog please recognize that you are the problem and British Petroleum is your scapegoat.
Let late night Jimmy Fallon with the help of the Roots, Brian Williams and Herbie Hancock bring some levity to your consciousness…
^ Unfortunately for Gen. McChrystal its too late for the buttoned lip strategy…
Some military leaders are totally the movie. They are uncomfortable around people who don’t wear their uniform. I used to think it was because there was some ghey oath they all take. You know, ‘Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell’? That may be only part of the reason. The main reason is that these people are generally anti-social pricks. I mean, if your business model is essentially to kill, maim and capitalize people’s lives you’re clock is off a few clicks. I suppose the world turns with everyone having their own personal moral compass for direction and mental clock to let them know what time it really is.
Maybe that is the real reason that U.S. General Stanley McChrystal spazzed out at length in front of a Rolling Stone reporter about the administration in D.C., the war in Afghanistan, and just everything in general. Life is far too short to remain as wound up as he was and not have some epic calamitous spin out. Speaking of the war in Afghanistan… It sux. Thank God for British Petroleum’s Gulf debacle of the microscope would have been deeper into the ass of the failed strategy in Afghanistan. Recently the Pentagon informed us that there was trillions of dollars of mineral resources in Afghan soil. And they weren’t even talking about heroin.
The President relieves General McChrystal of his post in Afghanistan. The general can now return to his wife of 33 years and take her on dates to White Castke or Jack In The Box or wherever rich people go to appear normal. In the meantime and in between time more American lives are being committed to the mountains of Kabul and Khandahar with no end in sight. Maybe that will be the subject of the general’s upcoming speaking engagements alongside Sarah Palin no doubt.
Editor’s note: Five year ago on this day my dad passed away. The letter below was sent to my friends because I felt guilty about my relationship with my dad. He put in a lot of work to get me to this point in my life and I wish that I could have been there for him at the moment that he needed me the most. Although I had repaired the strain that my teenage years put on that bond we had it can never make up for lost time. If you have a family member or a friend that you truly love please take a minute today to tell them that you love them. Do that for my dad and me.
I have some sad news to relay to you all. My dad died yesterday morning. He passed away due to a massive coronary failure and this was a shock to the immediate family since he has had no history of heart problems. I am more likely to have a heart attack than he was. He had been in the hospital recently for a pancreas condition but there was no inkling that he was having any heart issues since his EKG and blood pressure tests both appeared normal. On tuesday morning as he prepared himself for work he felt chest pains. He continued with his prep until about an hour or so later when he realized that he needed some help. He phoned the ambulance service and he was rushed to the hospital. Inside the hospital as he has undergoing treatment his heart stopped and the doctors could not revive him.
I am sad for his passing, but what compounds this feeling of sadness is the fact that I have never been one to accept the responsibility that is usually reserved for an eldest child. I did not have any concerns for anyone other than myself and I lived my life without the cognizance that there was someone else that was watching me and heavily influenced by my actions. I spent time in and out of jail and other troubles and everytime that I needed someone to bail me out he was always there. He certainly didn’t have to be because he wasn’t my father, and one day I told him so to his face.
CLARENCE PENN married my mom after meeting her at NYU night school. She had divorced my father, DALLAS ELLIS, two years after I was born because of his habitual drug use and his physical abuse. Mr.PENN knew that my mom had me and he accepted the responsibility of being my father. He worked hard to put me through prep schools and provide the experiences for me that would help me excel in life. In my teenage years I began to resent him because I felt that he was too demanding of me. I left my parents house at 17 after being thrown out of Brooklyn Technical High School and quitting the work-study program at City-As-School.
I spent the next ten years in a virtual detente with my father. Not speaking more than a hello and not offering more than a good bye. Even though we used my mother as a conduit for communication, we never shared a conversation. When I needed money for college because I refused to take any loans, he would send me a check for tuition through my mother. This situation may have have continued up to his death but when I was 27 he gave me a phone call.
My dad asked me to help him out with my kid brother who was falling prey to the same demons that attack most of us middle-class Black kids. The peer pressure to affirm your Blackness through criminality. Its sometimes as if our skin color doesn’t satisfy that confirmation, so then we must go into the world and perpetuate a stereotype. That my dad turned to me at this moment was a profound revelation. He could have called on so many other people that were close to him, but that he came to me for help was so humbling to me. Ten years prior I had broken his heart to the core, but here he was before me on bended knee asking for my assistance.
All I can say to you is that from that point forward I learned more about brotherhood, fatherhood and manhood than in the 28 years prior. One thing for certain is that getting someone pregnant is the most miniscule part of fatherhood. There is a value system and a dedication to principles and community. Then there is an unconditional love for family and friends. Unconditional love requires the courage and heart of a lion. This is probably why I took it for granted that Mr.PENN’s heart could last forever. I owe my father now more than I can ever repay him and that is the saddest part of his passing.
I thank you all for allowing me this moment to cry on your shoulders and for lending my family your prayers and your support.
One of my favorite basketball teams of all-time is the Harlem Globetrotters. Don’t laugh out loud when I tell you that I thought they were actually a REAL team, too good to play in the league with the other teams because they always won.
The truth about the Globetrotters is that they were actually a professional team in their beginnings during a time in America when Black athletes had to exist within the separate and unequal parameters of this country’s fringe. Just like baseball’s Negro League barnstormers would have exhibitions against players from the majors, the Globetrotters would match up against NBA teams like the great Minneapolis Lakers and they would triumph more often than not.
Team owners and league officials realized that Black athletes were the perfect exotic draw to their flagging businesses so as white professional leagues pushed towards integration it meant that the pro teams and clubs that weren’t within their jurisdiction would end up going out of business. Not so much for the Harlem Globetrotters who incorporated entertainment elements within their athletic exhibitions. They mixed their basketball skills with a touch of Vaudeville.
Nike’s putting out some Dunk Lo’s for kids this summer they are calling the ‘Independence Day’. If I had a kid I would copp these kicks for him or her as a testament to the independent spirit of Abe Saperstein and all of the Harlem Globetrotters past and present.
As a kid I never knew the backstory of this team and what it meant to my dad to watch them play. I just thought they were good. And funny. And what else does a child need but to be happy? The realities of the world will find him soon enough.
