A Quote by Henry Matthew Ward on love, hugs, happiness, health, and prescription

No moving parts, no batteries, No monthly payments and no fees;
Inflation-proof, non-taxable, In fact it's quite relaxable;
It can't be stolen, won't pollute, One size fits all, do not dilute.
It uses little energy, But yields results enormously.
Relieves your tension and your stress, Invigorates your happiness;
Combats depression, makes you beam, And elevates your self-esteem!
Your circulation it corrects, Without unpleasant side effects.
It is, I think, the perfect drug; May I prescribe, my friends,... the hug!
(And of course, fully returnable!)

Henry Matthew Ward

Contributed by: Trevor

A Quote by Sol Luckman on immunity, retrovirus, immunization, vaccine, vaccination, genetic code, Genetics, dna, health, diagnosis, fibromyalgia, chronic fatigue, multiple chemical sensitivity, cfids, cfs, and mcs

I concluded that immune-wrecking retroviruses can penetrate the bloodstream via “immunizations” and alter one’s genetic code, potentially sabotaging health under a myriad of creative diagnoses such as “fibromyalgia,” “chronic fatigue,” and “multiple chemical sensitivity.”

Sol Luckman

Source: Conscious Healing: Book One on the Regenetics Method, Pages: 11..12

Contributed by: Leigh

A Quote by Henry Landry on health, happiness, learning, realization, karma, nirvana, wisdom, and enlightenment

The Buddha may open the door, but you must decide to walk through to the world of wisdom and enlightenment

Henry Landry

Source: Buddha Nature Now: Discovering Your Buddha Nature, Pages: 180

Contributed by: Ajari

A Quote by Michael Pollan on eating disorder, food, food supply, diets, diet, and health



What should we have for dinner?

This book is a long and fairly involved answer to this seemingly simple question. Along the way, it also tries to figure out how such a simple question could ever have gotten so complicated. As a culture we seem to have arrived at a place where whatever native wisdom we may once have possessed about eating has been replaced by confusion and anxiety. Somehow this most elemental of activities—figuring out what to eat—has come to require a remarkable amount of expert help. How did we ever get to a point where we need investigative journalists to tell us where our food comes from and nutritionists to determine the dinner menu?

For me the absurdity of the situation became inescapable in the fall of 2002, when one of the most ancient and venerable staples of human life abruptly disappeared from the American dinner table. I’m talking of course about bread. Virtually overnight, Americans changed the way the way they eat. A collective spasm of what can only be described as carbophobia seized the country, supplanting an era of national lipophobia dating to the Carter administration. The latter was when, in 1977, a Senate committee had issued a set of “dietary goals” warning beefloving Americans to lay off the red meat. And so we dutifully had, until now.

What set off the sea change? It appears to have been a perfect media storm of diet books, scientific studies, and one timely magazine article.  The new diet books, many of them inspired by the formerly discredited Dr. Robert C. Atkins, brought Americans the welcome news that they could eat more meat and lose weight just so long as they laid off the bread and pasta. These high-protein, low-carb diets found support in a handful of new epidemiological studies suggesting that the nutritional orthodoxy that had held sway in America since the 1970s might be wrong. It was not, as official opinion claimed, fat that made us fat, but the carbohydrates we’d been eating precisely in order to stay slim. So conditions were ripe for a swing of the dietary pendulum when, in the summer of 2002, the New York Times Magazine published a cover story on the new research entitled “What if Fat Doesn’t Make You Fat?”  Within months, supermarket shelves were restocked and menus rewritten to reflect the new nutritional wisdom.  The blamelessness of steak restored, two of the most wholesome and uncontroversial foods known to man—bread and pasta—acquired a moral stain that promptly bankrupted dozens of bakeries and noodle firms and ruined an untold number of perfectly good meals.

So violent a change in a culture’s eating habits is surely the sign of a national eating disorder. Certainly it would never have happened in a culture in possession of deeply rooted traditions surrounding food and eating. But then, such a culture would not feel the need for its most august legislative body to ever deliberate the nation’s “dietary goals”—or, for that matter, to wage political battle every few years over the precise design of an official government graphic called the “food pyramid.” A country with a stable culture of food would not shell out millions for the quackery (or common sense) of a new diet book every January. It would not be susceptible to the pendulum swings of food scares or fads, to the apotheosis every few years of one newly discovered nutrient and the demonization of another. It would not be apt to confuse protein bars or food supplements with meals or breakfast cereals with

medicines. It probably would not eat a fifth of its meals in cars or feed fully a third of its children at a fast-food outlet every day. And it surely would not be nearly so fat.

Nor would such a culture be shocked to discover that there are other countries, such as Italy and France, that decide their dinner questions on the basis of such quaint and unscientific criteria as pleasure and tradition, eat all manner of “unhealthy” foods, and, lo and behold, wind up actually healthier and happier in their eating than we are.  We show our surprise at this by speaking of something called the “French paradox,” for how could a people who eat such demonstrably toxic substances as foie gras and triple crème cheese actually be slimmer and healthier than we are? Yet I wonder if it doesn’t make more sense to speak in terms of an American paradox—that is, a notably unhealthy people obsessed by the idea of eating healthily.

Michael Pollan

Source: The Omnivore's Dilemma: A Natural History of Four Meals (Large Print Press), Pages: intro

Contributed by: HeyOK

A Quote by Michael Pollan on food, food supply, feedlots, industrial farming, and health

... One of the most troubling things about factory farms is how cavalierly they flout these evolutionary rules, forcing animals to overcome deeply ingrained aversions.  We make them trade their instincts for antibiotics.

            Though the industrial logic that made feeding cattle to cattle seem like a good idea has been thrown into doubt by mad cow disease, I was surprised to learn it hadn’t been discarded.  The FDA ban on feeding ruminant protein to ruminants makes an exception for blood products and fat; my steer will probably dine on beef tallow recycled from the very slaughterhouse he’s headed to in June.  (“Fat is fat,” the feedlot manager shrugged, when I raised an eyebrow.)  Though Poky doesn’t do it, the rules still permit feedlots to feed nonruminant animal protein to ruminants.  Feather meal and chicken litter (that is, bedding, feces, and discarded bits of feed) are accepted cattle feeds, as are chicken, fish, and pig meal.  Some public health experts worry that since the bovine meat and bonemeal that cows used to eat is now being fed to chickens, pigs, and fish, infectious prions could find their way back into cattle when they’re fed the proteins of the animals that have been eating them.

Michael Pollan

Source: The Omnivore's Dilemma: A Natural History of Four Meals (Large Print Press), Pages: 76

Contributed by: HeyOK

A Quote by Michael Pollan on feedlots, cafco, mad cow disease, usda, food, food supply, beef, health, and corn

[Arrival at the CAFO – Concentrated Animal Feeding Operation for a cow]

            The feed mill’s pulsing din is the sound of two giant steel rollers turning against one another twelve hours a day, crushing steamed corn kernels into warm fragrant flakes.  (Flaking the corn makes it easier for cattle to digest it.)  This was the only feed ingredient I sampled, and it wasn’t half bad; not as crisp as Kellogg’s flake, but with a cornier flavor.  I passed on the other ingredients:  the liquefied fat (which on today’s menu is beef tallow, trucked in from one of the nearby slaughter-houses), and the protein supplement, a sticky brown goop consisting of molasses and urea.  The urea is a form of synthetic nitrogen made from natural gas, similar to the fertilizer spread on George Naylor’s [one of the people visited by the author to research this book] fields.

            Before being put on this highly concentrated diet, new arrivals to the feed yard are treated to a few days of fresh long-stemmed hay.  (They don’t eat on the long ride and can lose up to one hundred pounds, so their rumens need to be carefully restarted.)  Over the next several weeks they gradually step up to a daily ration of thirty-two pounds of feed, three quarters of which is corn – nearly half a bushel a day.

            What got corn onto the menu in this and almost every other American feedlot is price, of course, but also USDA policy, which for decades has sought to help move the mountain of surplus corn by passing as much of it as possible through the digestive tracts of food animals, who can convert it into protein.


            We’ve come to think of “corn-fed” as some kind of old-fashioned virtue, which it may well be when you’re referring to Midwestern children, but feeding large quantities of corn to cows for the greater part of their lives is a practice neither particularly old nor virtuous.  Its chief advantage is that cows fed corn, a compact source of caloric energy, get fat quickly; their flesh also marbles well, giving it a taste and texture American consumers have come to like.  Yet this corn-fed meat is demonstrably less healthy for us, since it contains more saturated fat and less omega-3 fatty acids than the meat of animals fed grass.  A growing body of evidence suggests that many of the health problems associated with eating beef are really problems with corn-fed beef.  (Modern-day-hunter-gatherers who subsist on wild meat don’t have our rates of heart disease.)  In the same way ruminants are ill adapted to eating corn,  humans in turn may be poorly adapted to eating ruminants that eat corn.

            Yet the USDA’s grading system has been designed to reward marbling (a more appealing term than “intramuscular fat,” which is what it is) and thus the feeding of corn to cattle.  Indeed, corn has become so deeply ingrained in the whole system of producing beef in America that whenever I raised any questions about it among ranchers or feedlot operators or animal scientists, people looked at me as if I’d just arrived from another planet.  (Or perhaps from Argentina, where excellent steaks are produced on nothing but grass.)

            The economic logic behind corn is unassailable, and on a factory farm there is no other kind.  Calories are calories, and corn is the cheapest, most convenient source of calories on the market.  Of course, it was the same industrial logic – protein is protein – that made feeding rendered cow parts back to cows seem like a sensible thing to do, until scientists figured out that this practice was spreading bovine spongiform encephalopathy (BSE), most commonly known as mad cow disease.  Rendered bovine meat and bonemeal represented the cheapest, most convenient way of satisfying a cow’s protein requirement (never mind these animals were herbivores by evolution) and so appeared on the daily menus of Poky and most other feed yards until the Food and Drug Administration (FDA) banned the practice in 1997.

Michael Pollan

Source: The Omnivore's Dilemma: A Natural History of Four Meals (Large Print Press), Pages: 74

Contributed by: HeyOK

A Quote by Michael Pollan on feedlot, cafo, beef, food, food supply, and health

This biological absurdity, characteristic of all CAFO’s, is compounded in the cattle feed yard by a second absurdity.  Here animals exquisitely adapted by natural selection to live on grass must be adapted by us – at considerable cost to their health, to the health of the land, and ultimately to the health of their  eaters – to live on corn, for no other reason than it offers the cheapest calories around and because the great pile must be consumed.  This is why I decided to follow the trail of industrial corn through a single steer rather than, say, a chicken or a pig, which can get by just fine on a diet of grain:  The short, unhappy life of a corn-fed feedlot steer represents the ultimate triumph of industrial thinking over the logic of evolution.

Michael Pollan

Source: The Omnivore's Dilemma: A Natural History of Four Meals (Large Print Press), Pages: 68

Contributed by: HeyOK

A Quote by Michael Pollan on food, food supply, high fructose corn syrup, corn, health, subsidies, farming, farm subsidies, and george naylor

Corn is not the only source of cheap energy in the supermarket – much of the fat added to processed foods comes from soybeans – but it is by far the most important.  As George Naylor said, growing corn is the most efficient way to get energy – calories – from an acre of Iowa farmland.  That corn-made calorie can find its way into our bodies in the form of an animal fat, a sugar, or a starch, such is the protean nature of carbon in that big kernel.  But as productive and protean as the corn plant is, finally it is a set of human choices that have made these molecules quite as cheap as they have become: a quarter of a century of farm policies designed to encourage the overproduction of this crop and hardly any other.  Very simply, we subsidize high-fructose corn syrup in this country, but not carrots.  While the surgeon general is raising alarms over the epidemic of obesity, the president is signing farm bills designed to keep the river of cheap corn flowing, guaranteeing that the cheapest calories in the supermarket will continue to be the unhealthiest.

Michael Pollan

Source: The Omnivore's Dilemma: A Natural History of Four Meals (Large Print Press), Pages: 108

Contributed by: HeyOK

A Quote by Michael Pollan on organic produce, organic, and health

... the greens were grown organically.  Since they’re not pumped up on synthetic nitrogen, the cells of these slower-growing leaves develop thicker walls and take up less water, making them more durable.

            And, I’m convinced, tastier, too.  When I visited Greenways Organic, which grows both conventional and organic tomatoes, I learned that the organic ones consistently earn higher Brix scores (a measure of sugars) than the same varieties grown conventionally.  More sugars mean less water and more flavor.  It stands to reason that the same would hold true for other organic vegetables: slower growth, thicker cell walls, and less water should produce more concentrated flavors.  That at least has always been my impression, though in the end freshness probably affects flavor more than growing method.

Michael Pollan

Source: The Omnivore's Dilemma: A Natural History of Four Meals (Large Print Press), Pages: 176

Contributed by: HeyOK

A Quote by Michael Pollan on ascorbic acid, lycopenes, resveratrol, flavonols, organic, food, food supply, and health

Studies show that organically grown crops produce more of the things (ascorbic acid, lycopenes, resveratrol, flavonols in general, etc) that our bodies need and also have less toxic residue.  Science is still catching up with this.  J. Agric. Food. Chem. Vol. 51, no. 5, 2003.

Michael Pollan

Source: The Omnivore's Dilemma: A Natural History of Four Meals (Large Print Press), Pages: 181

Contributed by: HeyOK

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