Ageless Age with Edge

Ageless Age with Edge
welcomes you twofold

Tuesday 28 November 2006

Label over Substance



Truths by Fanatics

"We ordered healthy, non-greasy food."


"Shooo, you're gonna be a butterball after eating all that fat."

"The Japanese live a long time - see what a low-fat diet they have. Sushi is 'low-fat' !"

"I can't wait to chow down on some meat. I'm on my way to clogged arteries and a heart-attack!"

"I gotta get out and run all that fat off I just ate!"

"I'm getting fatter by the day. No more butter on my Wonder Bread, that's final."

"I only use olive oil now. I've really gone low-fat."

"Ok, no more cheesecake and icecream since the doctor told me to watch it. Check out these low-fat chips-a-hoy with carob! They contain sugar, preservatives, bleached wheat, sugar, carob with sugar. Ummagod no fat."

*********************************************
Now Look Here

*
Grease? Life-debasing word. Congealed car oil. Go eat that. But don't you dare throw out that pan grease. Remember the Lakota word for Minnesotan immigrants? "Those-That-Steal-the-Fat". Why did Lakota starve? Someone stole their fat, their life. Fat and Life are interlinked across the globe. Why do you think French, Japanese, and Czech women look perfect? They don't skimp on their fat intake, that's why. Lakota had no animals to eat, no fat. We killed them with prairie grass and potatoes.

*Fat is beautiful. It's perfect. It's the only caloric macronutrient essential to life.

*Nobility imprisoned in Middle Ages were sometimes tortured (at discretion) on a diet solely consisting of dried or soaked out meat with ALL FAT carefully removed - a kind of mega jerky. Their bodies couldn't process the rich nutrients they were taking in. They toxed on unuseable protein, and their calories gradually got vacuumed out of their bodies. They shrivelled and died.

*Every cell making up every tissue in your body - including 'lean muscle tissue' - has a bilayer of fat around it. Otherwise you couldn't move, think, breathe, or keep an organ from shifting! Every rum cell you have is composed of both saturated *and* unsaturated fats, the former for resilience, the latter for flexibility. Upteen functions besides. Remember your nervous & lymph systems, bonemarrow, inner organs, brain! Your body isn't just a mass of muscle or fat tissue. Without fat, you're a shrivelled rat.

Your brain would be bubble-wrap. Low-fat is Stupidity, Usury, Fraud, Food Industry Glutony, and Waste.

*Most non-hybrid life-sustaining carbohydrates have a 1:1:1 ratio of fat: protein: carb (seaweed, quinoa, amaranth, buckwheat, wild rice, almonds, olives, cashews). Humans love drugs and the feeling drugs give them - sugar feels good and gives food longer shelf life. Sugar and grain carbs should be enjoyed - but on the same level as alcohol. They're not meant (by god) to *live* off of. Not for us post-Eden humans. Wheat, barley, maize, rice, rye - all are carb-loaded unbalanced allergenic foods. Our cattle-swilled grass-grains, fermented in multiple stomachs, are the most resilient anti-digestive plant matter on Earth. Tough European cattle cut their gums and tongues on the silicon sharpness of Midwest prairie grass. If only humans were bison. We could burn switchgrass in our cars and homes while eating the richness of it for supper. All our problems would be over.

*Carbs (if over 30% of your diet) bulk up FAT-ONLY CELLS. FAT-ONLY CELLS lead to Fat People.

*Fat people are NOT Renaissance women! Big Hips are Big Life. True fat people are most often commercialized Irish, British or Americans - saggy, big up top APPLES with balloon uppers and meat-less lowers.

*The fat you eat isn't directly pumped into a Fat Cell Zone. No more than gasoline creates gasoline tumours hanging out the side of your car!

*The fat you eat is burned in your muscle tissue (if you have any) for energy. It can even be burned twice. That's certainly not its only vital function, but for now enough said.

*Alas *fat* is both a noun and unflattering adjective in English. A nice pickle we're in. When I complement a person I admire for his/her thickness, I use the adjective I mean: THICK.

Beeflight

Calm and comely
hum on wing,
plush on plume,
filigree flush.
Fetterless fly,
sighless sing.
-Paleo-Nate, August 2006

Sunday 26 November 2006

Swank from Sven


Servus Nathan der Weise!

Lebst Du auch noch? Klingt ja sehr interessant, Dein Steinzeitleben. Siehst Du Dich mehr als Sammler oder auch als Jäger? So ein kleines Mammutsteak wäre ja mal nicht schlecht.

Was denn für ein Bild im Internet? Von mir??? Ist ja interessant. Ich hoffe, das war keine P*o*r*-Webseite? ha ha :-)

Und was treibst Du sonst noch so neben Deiner Schwerkraftbekämpfung? Bist Du noch in Wisconsin? Im Mai/Juni bin ich vielleicht für ein paar Tage auf einer Konferenz in Madison. Mad City.
skall,
S>EZ :-)

Saturday 25 November 2006

Computers Finally Master English

You say: "negotiations"
They spell: "new cushy Asians"

You say: "your cellphone"
They spell: "your self fun"

You say: "otherwise Press 1"
They spell: "other wives Press 1"

You say: "Honestly they are very excited"
They spell: "On a sleigh they are very excited"

You say: "Geriatrics Center"
They spell: "Area Tricks Center"

You say: "Find out if it's real"
They spell: "Find out it's Israel"

You say: "Veterans Office"
They spell: "Mitterrand's Office"

You say: "Operator"
They spell: "Mob her rate her"

You say: "She's actually eating right now"
They spell: "She's sexually eating right now"

You say: "We're working on our garage sale skills"
They spell: "We're working on erogenous skills"

You say: "I'm just calling to say Hi"
They spell: "Mad sodomist calling to say Hi"

You say: "To become one of Sear's loyal customers"
They spell: "To become one of Saddam's loyal customers"

You say: "I'll pick you up tomorrow"
They spell: "I'll pick you off tomorrow"

You say: "When there's a knock at her door her dog barks and lets her know"
They spell: "When there's knock at her door her dog farts . . . . "

You say: "You have reached the voicemail of _______ Oil Company."
They spell: "You have reached the boy smell of _____ Oil Company."

You say: "We're just sitting here catching our breaths."
They spell: "We're just sitting here touching our breasts."

You say: "What if you dial . . . . ?"
They spell: "Dud you die alone."

You say: "Who am i talking with Question Mark"
They spell: "Who am i talking with a smurf?"

You say: "I am coughing most of the time"
They spell: "I am quaffing most of the time"

You say: "I thought you called about a load"
They spell: "I thought it was all about blood-flow"

You say: "Use as directed"
They spell: "Use direct kick"

You say: "We will try to connect again to catch up on Friday"
They spell: "We will try to connect a gallon cock up on Friday"

You say: "Then all you will have to do is email her"
They spell: "Then all you will have to do is kill her"

A Stór A Stór

A Stór mo Chroí, traditional after Karen Casey

A Stór mo Chroí, when you're far away
From the home you will soon be leavin,
Sure it's manys the time by night and day
Your heart will sorely be grievin.
Though the stranger's land is rich and fair,
And has riches and treasures golden,
You pine, I know, for the land, long ago
And the heart that's never olden.

A Stór mo Chroí, in the stranger's land
There is plenty of wealth and earnins.
Sultan gems adorn the rich and grand,
but their faces are pulled and tearin'.
For the road it is weary and hard to tread,
And the lights of the city do blind you;
Oh turn, A Stór, to Éirinn's shore
And the ones you left behind you.

A Stór mo Chroí, when the evenin sun
on mountain and meadow is fallin,
won't you turn away from the throng and sounds,
And maybe you'll hear me callin.
For the voice you hear is surely mine
after somebody's speedy returnin.
Aroon, aroon, won't you come home soon
To the ones who'll always love you.

Thanksgiving

"Thanksgiving,
and terror of loss,
make all but my love of life
dross."


Rick Lee, via Nic Jones


The Staid Saxon

The ox he's never woe
till he to harrow go,
for the harrow like the witches
runeth the rows in twitches

-
Thomas Tusser, 15th century

Commentary: Dorothy Hartley compares oxen to English Saxons who, like oxen, preferred life's steady unchanging pace. The tails of
mediæval harrows were made of dense, sharp twigs which jerked and skipped when drawn. Witches shiftily followed the lines of hedgerows (literally 'hag-rows') at darting speeds upon sticks.

Vittles That Mean Vim

Breakfast

Raw sage
Raw basil
Raw dill
Raw parsley
Raw garlic
Arugula
Watercress

Lox
Almonds
Sardines
Turkey
Beepollen and Kelp (drink)
Gunpowder Tea (drink)
Green Tea (drink)
Dark chocolate (80%)
Kombucha / Olinka / Kwass / Ling-Tsche
Quinoa Griddlecakes
Amaranth cake with butter
Fried Eggs
Raw cranberries
Raw crabapples
Fresh catnip
Raspberries
Blueberries
Plums

Avocado
Pablano Pepper
Liver
Lamb Hearts from Farmer's Market
Canine Biscuit
Adult Carpenter Ants



Conjugal Consonance

Oak of Ages ever with you
Godtree of grace gilded with stars,
adorned with daylit leaves of light.
Its girth, by lovewords girdled.
Its sap, sung by sapient Sage.
Its blossoms, blood-filled, blown.
Its limbs, lissom, love-wound,
limberly tracing the Lode to Life.

In time's seasons, tree rings widened,
Leaves unfolded, fell down golden.
Year-rings lengthen, new rind livens.
Out of ashes, new flesh shapen,
Out of winter, warmth awaken,
Tinge the twigs, bulge the boughs,
Bleed the berries, swell the blades,
Welter gladly, heart-blood's swelter.
Wag the soul in God-swung cradle,
Saddle with song, mirth-milk ladle. -Paleo-Nate

Friday 24 November 2006

Cubans and Celts

End of October, i served Unc and Bri a three-course meal on my new rugs. Slowcooked chicken breasts in butter with pablanos, portabellas, red bells, onion, salt, pepper, sage and Herbes de Provence. Arugula salad. Sweet afters pecked: pecans and dark chocolate. Abt 12 Belgian, trapped by Trappists. Can you blame those 'celibates' throwing themselves at brew vats? Such aleswilling must be connubial. We fell on the feast, fortified with Yerba Matë, jasmine flower greentea, oil-black coffee – and convivial chews on two inches of Cuban shared among three. Kari-Synnøve, Norwegian folklorist dissertator maid in man's guise, brought it by, courtesy of dandy Scott Mellor. http://www.scandinavian.wisc.edu/mellor/hca_summer/index.html
I'm no smoker. Clinton's my man – i don't inhale. Not a fumer, yet the smokey cud was toothsome. Sweet was the ale on cigar-bitten tongue, bittersmack against Belgian sugar.

Dijeridoo droned between pucker-blown puffs. "Experts know nothing about lung capacity", came the purring report, as I bore up the doughty Donder Dij, echo-growling from underground. "Here's to Chestertonian charity and the quickness of queens and kings." Aborginal wood lodged in lip-pout, I made it groan like a grizzly. I opined my opinions of Halloween's social applications for Kari's videocamera and dissertation - several new pages toward a chapter. Every man was an orator, endemic with intellect. Puffing with posture. Ah. An evening of great repose and deep fruity laughs. I never once went out toward Langdon or State. Let the unhallow revelers de-hallow the Day. Lovely Halloween.

On Walpurgis, April 30th, i was warmed up to by Brían Hart, a St Louis vocal prodigy with Irish music band Gan Bua, and only American ever to win the Sgiath Uí Dhlaig shield at a traditional sean-nós singing contest in Ireland – he's sung for President Mary McAleese. He appears in published albums, and works with Cé in Milwaukee. The fond affinities and affection I found will complement my comrade bonds among men of camaraderie. I'd no idea who or what he was when we sang back to back at a session in DeKoven Center in Racine for an Irish Language Weekend. I was surpised, but comforted. As the craic increased and crowds dwindled, he and i lingered last in the room - sheep outside the fold. Two mottled sheep in a flock of same thousands. Not often I meet another Melungeon who's also part Ashkenazi Jew, all Celtophile, and entranced by Transylvania. He's the only person i've met whom i consider 'my other'. Wonder to watch another me. http://www.ganbua.com/