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Friday, July 8, 2016

U.S. Senate Votes to Deny Americans the Right to Know Which Food Products Contain GMO Ingredients │ Endurance Training Relatively Ineffective for Weight Loss, but Good for Visceral Fat Loss │ Hunger's Adverse Effect on Decision-Making

After becoming too involved with my E-mail Inbox last evening after I had turned off the T.V., it probably was around 12:15 a.m. before I was in bed.

I don't like late nights, but I continue to have them.

A few days ago, a couple of former co-workers had invited me to join them for lunch ─ today at 11:45 a.m. over at the White Spot by Surrey Place (Central City) in Whalley.

I hadn't committed myself until yesterday, but it was still going to depend on how I felt about the hike of just over a mile or so to get there.

I've avoided previous get-togethers.  I just don't like eating out ─ I can't afford it, and it consumes too much of my day (slave to my websites and blog that I am).

So this morning I worked for awhile at the Lawless Spirit post that I began this past Tuesday, and then I assessed how I would feel about the outing.  I didn't feel over-tired as I often do.

The early morning had been grey and wet, but the later morning became quite warm as things started to dry out.  It was still cloudy, however.

I finally decided to ready and head out ─ I had been offered a ride by Angela, the instigator of this meet-up; but I declined.

My youngest step-son Pote had the day off work again, so he was left in charge of the house. 

He had given me a $20 bill yesterday, and that was what I used to pay for what I was to have as my meal ─ a burger, fries, and some sort of coleslaw.

I hadn't seen Angela since she left Agriculture and Agri-Food Canada out in Burnaby back in 2008 ─ we were both Compensation Advisors there in the Compensation section of the Human Resources branch.

And Barb ─ I think I last saw her in October 2003.  We had first come to know one another back when I worked at Transport Canada (Ministry of Transport) and she was with Public Works and Government Services Canada ─ both were in the same building in Vancouver.  

That was in the latter 1990s.

Barb worked in what was referred to as the Pay Office, so she was my contact there when I was still a fledgling Compensation Advisor ─ she bailed me out of so many problems!  The dear thing always answered her phone or responded to an E-mail summons from me ─ her Pay Office counterparts largely remained inaccessible.

Anyway, it was quite a lengthy luncheon ─ we probably didn't leave till around 2:00 p.m.

We all took some cellphone photos of one another as we sat at the table.

This is Angela:




And Barb:





And Angela and Barb together:



Google took it upon itself to make a collage of the four photos of Barb:


Angela hopes we'll all get together again on a far more regular basis, but I simply can't afford to toss away $20 on a meal out ─ not anytime soon, at least.

Maybe in a year....

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Well, America, it seems that you have pretty much let your Senators take away your right to clearly know what food products contain GMO ingredients.

You have been deemed unworthy of  knowing ─ and potentially thereby making a choice not to buy or consume that product.


Highway Robbery
Late last night (Thursday, July 7), 63 U.S. Senators voted to rob you of the right to know what’s in your food.

If you watched any of the Senate “debate” (limited to 30 hours) on the Roberts-Stabenow DARK (Deny Americans the Right to Know) Act, you heard one after another of these 63 Senators misrepresent this industry-written bill as a “uniform federal mandatory labeling solution.”

If you’ve been working on this issue with us for weeks, or months or years, you know that’s a lie.

The bill passed last night is intended to hide information (behind electronic codes) from consumers, not provide it—in plain English, on a label.

The bill passed last night is intended to exempt the vast majority of GMOs from even having to be hidden behind codes, much less labeled in plain sight.

The bill passed last night is voluntary—it contains no enforcement mechanism, no penalties for non-compliance.

The bill passed last night is an attack on democracy, an attack on states’ rights. It not only overturns Vermont’s carefully considered and fairly debated mandatory GMO labeling law, but as Sen. Bernie Sanders (I-Vt.) noted in his speech on the Senate floor, this bill overturns nearly 100 other state laws. (Sanders pushed hard to stop this bill).

The bill passed last night is a fraud, an affront to the nine out of 10 Americans who want what citizens in 64 countries already have—the basic right to know what’s in our food.

The 63 Senators who sided with (and took hundreds of millions of dollars from) Monsanto and Big Food, stole your right to know, and whatever shred of belief you might still have had in the democratic process.

But they did not steal your power to boycott any brand or company that refuses to label GMOs. They did not steal your determination to take back an unhealthy, toxic, corrupt corporate food and farming system.

On Wednesday (July 6), during the cloture vote (which assured that the Roberts-Stabenow bill would not be open for discussion or amendments), OCA led a protest on the Senate floor. That protest led to the arrest and detainment, for over 24 hours, of our political director, Alexis Baden-Mayer. We didn’t change the vote. But we took a stand.

The Roberts-Stabenow bill will now go back to the U.S. House, which in July 2015 passed its own version of the DARK Act. If the House and Senate reach an agreement, Congress will vote on a bill to keep you in the dark. That bill will then land on President Obama’s desk.

We will continue to fight it all the way. We hope you will, too.

Watch the OCA ‘money bomb’ protest
It's disgusting.

A largely boot-licking Senate whose majority serves Monsanto and the Food Manufacturing Industry ─ not the consuming public.

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You surely have heard something of the recent recall that Ikea made of some of its unstable furniture such as dressers? ─ these pose a deadly threat to children.

Here is a good and concise overview of the issue ─ from NewMarketHealth.com.
Imagine the horror of a mother who comes to check on her napping toddler, only to find him crushed beneath a six-drawer dresser that had toppled over.

Sadly, the incident that took the life of 22-month-old Ted McGee wasn't just a one-in-a-million tragedy.

Falling furniture -- especially dressers and television sets -- result in the death of at least two children a month and injures an estimated 25,000 every year, according to the Consumer Product Safety Commission.

But it wasn't until Ikea announced a recent recall of 29 million unstable chests and dressers that this hazard began to get widespread attention. In fact, a warning of a tip-over problem with unsecured Ikea dressers, which had already killed two other children, was issued last summer by both the company and the CPSC, but the McGee family was unaware of it.

So what can you do to protect your own kids or grandkids against the danger of such an accident? Some of the precautions recommended by safety experts include:
  • Anchoring any heavy pieces of furniture, such as a dresser or bookcase, to an adjoining wall, using studs.
  • Placing TV sets on low cabinets or stands specifically designed to accommodate them rather than on bureaus, where a study has found they pose a hazard of falling and causing serious head injuries. (And even when in a stand, a TV should not be too close to the edge.)
  • Using drawer stops to keep dresser drawers from being pulled out all the way and falling on a child.
  • Keeping things like toys and remote controls off the tops of furniture where a child might try to reach for them, as well as keeping electrical cords that can become entangled in furniture safely hidden.
And if you have any chests or dressers from Ikea, you should check its website to see if anything in your home is involved in the current recall. If so, the company is offering partial and full refunds, as well as wall-anchoring repair kits. 

That piece above isn't Ikea-produced.  But believe it or not, the design is intentional ─ as are numerous other lopsided furniture designs at that website!

I wouldn't think anyone should have a kid in the house with something like this!

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I was never one who exercised to try and achieve weight-loss.

Certainly a reduction in body-fat is always desirable, but I exercised primarily for strength and muscle gains.

Nor have I ever in my life had a gym workout ─ I always exercised on my own, by myself.

Consequently, the following report doesn't quite work for me:

You heard it here first -- and now the rest of the world is finally starting to catch on!

If you want to lose weight... feel great... and get into the best shape of your life, the only "exercise" you need to do is take your gym membership card and tear it to shreds.

Yes, my friend, go ahead and cancel it -- you'll not only save on those monthly fees, but you'll also quit putting yourself through the pointless torture of "exercise."

If you're like most Americans, you probably weren't using it anyway -- and now, the latest research proves (yet again) that it won't help you shed so much as a single pound.

This isn't based on one study... or several studies... or even dozens of studies.

The new review looked at OVER A HUNDRED studies that ran as long as six months -- and in that time, endurance training led to almost no weight loss at all, ranging from ZERO pounds in some to a maximum of about nine pounds at best.

Imagine that: Sweating and slaving in a stinky gym for HALF a year... only to lose barely a pound a month, and that's if you're lucky.

If not, you'll have nothing to show for it except maybe a sports injury and an appointment with an orthopedic surgeon.

Of course, the clueless media isn't playing up this big discovery.

Nope, instead they're harping on nonsense like the fact that muscle weighs more than fat -- as if that can explain this staggering failure.

Just about the only bright spot of the study -- and it's a pretty small one -- is that while exercise won't help you to lose weight, it might burn a little of the dangerous visceral fat that builds up around the organs.

But who cares?

Sure, that's the kind of fat that'll boost your risk of disease -- but the folks in the study lost just 6 percent of that visceral fat.

Big whoop!

There's a much more efficient way to force that fat to melt itself away so you're lean and mean, and you don't have to spill a drop of sweat to get it done.

Switch to a high-fat, low-carb diet.

Giving up carbs triggers ketosis, which some people incorrectly call "starvation" mode.

You're not starving. You're giving your body just what it needs -- the only thing it has in common with "starvation" is that it forces fat-burning, when your body dips into the stash of fat it's been saving and melts it away to create energy.

That's GOOD, not bad, and will cause your dangerous visceral fat to dissolve like butter in a hot pan... and you'll get leaner, faster.

Don't worry about "exercise." Just be sure to get up on your feet and get natural movements throughout the day.

Take up an active hobby like walking, dancing, or even golf... and your "exercise" will be covered.

Not breaking a sweat....
This is the study, but only the abstract is available for free to the general public:  A systematic review and meta-analysis on the effects of exercise training versus hypocaloric diet: distinct effects on body weight and visceral adipose tissue (DOI: 10.1111/obr.12406).

Another report on that study is available here:


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This final report strikes me as being rather doubtful, but I think that I will try to keep the claim in mind for future trial just in case there is something to it where solid and clear decision-making is concerned:

There are three things you should never, ever do on an empty stomach.

Don't drink hard liquor... don't go to the supermarket... and whatever you do, don't even THINK about making a big decision when you can hear your stomach rumbling.

A new study on rats of all things shows how a little hunger can throw your mind so far off track that you're almost guaranteed to make impulsive and outright bad decisions.

In this case, the rats were trained that waiting for their treats led to even more treats -- and for the most part, once they figured that out, the little rodents would wait.

Rats, like people, want more when they can get it.

But as they got hungry, they lost the ability to wait. As levels of the "hunger hormone" ghrelin jumped, their ability to resist plunged.

And when it reached levels of hunger normally seen right before meals -- in rats and humans -- you can forget about waiting.

The rats didn't care about MORE, all they cared about was NOW.

They became impulsive, and made lousy decisions that ultimately cost them treats... but they didn't care, because of their hunger levels.

Rats are pretty smart -- and if you've ever seen them duck the traps in your shed and steal your stuff anyway, you know how clever the critters are -- but they're still just rodents at the end of the day.

But you've got a few things on your side they don't -- like logic, memory, experience, and wisdom.

You can THINK, you can PROCESS, and you can DECIDE; and I don't care how hungry you are, you can do all that better than a rat any day of the week.

But there's still a lesson in here for you -- because you don't need a study to know judgment can fly out the window when you're hungry.

How many times did you know dinner was coming, but gave in and ate some snacks anyway because you were hungry... especially when you were REALLY hungry?

That's the ghrelin at work, doing to you just what it did to the rats.

While you're obviously better able to resist it, that's not always the case -- and you don't want anything working against you when you need to focus.

So before you make any big decisions -- especially if it involves pulling your retirement funds, selling the home, buying a new set of wheels, or moving to Florida -- do yourself and your family a favor.

Have a big meal, think about it some more, and THEN make a decision.

Focused on food....
This is the rat study:  The Stomach-Derived Hormone Ghrelin Increases Impulsive Behavior (doi: 10.1038/npp.2015.297).  

And here is a report on that study:


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I have a relatively long entry to post from my journal of 41 years ago, back when I was 25 years old, and living in a basement housekeeping unit in New Westminster.

I was renting my room in a house located on Ninth Street at Third Avenue.

My mother ─ Irene Dorosh ─  lived in the Kennedy Heights area of Surrey.  Her home was my mailing address, so normally I tried to hike out to visit her at least twice a week.  

However, she had gone to Reno for the week.

I had gone to the house just the previous day, filling up on cherries from a tree in her backyard.

The walk to her home would take about 1½ hours of fairly fast hiking.  The house no longer exists, but its address was 12106 - 90th Avenue. 
TUESDAY, July 8, 1975

I was awake often, but did rest well, arising before 4:40 a.m.

It rained sometime during the night.

I had dreams, especially one I recall of being back in school at my current age, Mr. Carey presiding, and bully John Cousley unable to accept that I am no longer in the position of having to play the role I once did.  On my way to buy some equipment after my first day (I seemed to be heading to a large city that felt like Edmonton), I misplaced myself, ending up trespassing through a yard on a street where all the houses were large affairs; but the houses were boarded up and empty.  I crossed along a rotted ditch bridge to get to the road, which was on an elevation above the yards.  But old trees formed a border between the ditch and the deserted road.  As I struggled to ascend and keep from falling into the ditch, my graspings revealed the trees to be as rotten as the boardwalks; I eventually smashed my way through the bases and won free.  In Army & Navy prior to this, I recall Alvin Saunders.  In another phantasy, I was in a department store with dad and either Marie or mom; Phyllis was there also.  She and I were very close and friendly, and were childishly cavorting; I recall sitting back while we grappled toes with toes.

At dawn a thunderstorm broke.

I decided to hike to mom's again.  I left shortly after 8:00 a.m. under cloudy sky, going by Econo Mart, which was yet closed, it not being 9:30 a.m.

At my destination, I had a few raspberries, then proceeded to feed again on cherries, hoping they wouldn't pass through me later the same day as yesterday, even if they were heavily digested.

I ate half an hour or so, then looked for mail:  a Church of God letter and my Orpheum Lottery ticket (note:  yesterday came a Western Lottery Foundation envelope for Mark, thanks to me, I am sure).

I left in sunshine shortly past 10:00 a.m., stopping in at Econo Mart; no 29¢ lb chicken, but lots of 45¢ & 49¢ lbers. 

I left too soon for my cherry feed to have any disturbing gaseous effects.

On Queens before reaching 6th St, I saw the S.A.N.E. truck turning down 7th.  Shortly after this as I turned up for the 'big white dog' lane, a shaded, dark, lightly bearded fellow enquired as to the location of Agnes St. 

I made a delicious chicken stew after homing.

I finished At the Edge of the World and began Don Rodrigues:  Chronicles of Shadow Valley.

I shall try and retire for good at 6:20 p.m.

This proved impractical due to wakefulness.  But I eventually did get some sleep, a few hours later.

However, a little after 11:30 p.m. came knocking; it was Norman, so I answered.  He'd been drinking alone with Cathy some several hours, and had come to pick up me and further drink.

We left close to midnight; he gave me $10 and I added 10¢ to it to cover two cases at the Mr. Sport.  By now Mark's birthday was on; he finished work at 1:00 a.m.

Cathy was high spirited.

Mark came home, and it wasn't too much longer till we began card games.

A light Granola breakfast, and Norman was spinning me home just 5:15 a.m. in the daylight.

I brought home a coupon for a $2 Greenpeace Lottery ticket.
I cannot explain that dream sequence, but I can identify the three names I mentioned.

"Mr. Carey" was my teacher and the school principle when I was in Grades V, VI, and VII at Johnston Road Elementary School out in Surrey ─ today, the school is called Sullivan Elementary.  

"John Cousley" was a good-humoured but bullying kid I had to endure when I went on to Newton Junior High School in September 1962 through June 1964.

It's peculiar the two of them were unified into the same dream.  As far as I know, they never met.

I must have crossed paths with "Alvin Saunders" in a dream wherein I was shopping at Army & Navy department store in New Westminster.  He was another fellow student ─ a really nice guy ─ I may have gotten to know when I was in Princess Margaret Senior Secondary out in Surrey.

The dream sequence involving my father Hector would have been particularly bizarre.  His girlfriend of the time was Maria Fadden; he and my mother had divorced, and not seen one another since maybe Summer of 1964.  Phyllis is my older maternal half-sister.  She was a beautiful young woman ─ in fact, a former Miss Richmond; but it sounds like we were conducting ourselves nearly incestuously in the dream.  

The thunderstorm was reality.

With my mother away for the week, I decided to make yet another visit to her home.

Econo-Mart used to be a supermarket chain, and there was an outlet in the Townline shopping centre located at 96th Avenue & Scott Road (120th Street) out in Surrey.  I would have tried to check in for a stewing chicken deal while hiking to my mother's home, but I found the store closed.

Upon reaching her home, I went directly to the backyard to forage.  She and her husband Alex had raspberries and blueberries; cherries, apples, plums, and even a peach tree.

And of course, various vegetables in a garden.  
 
After feeding out there for a half-hour, I went into the house to check for the mail.

Because I was a tither, the Worldwide Church of God newsletter was a regular feature sent to me. 

The Orpheum Lottery ticket had been something that I had mail-ordered.

My younger brother Mark was to become 23 years old the following day, so I had mail-ordered him a couple of lottery tickets that seem to have arrived the day before, but I had failed to mention it in the previous day's journal entry.

It would have been unusual for me to have spent so little time at my mother's home before embarking on the hike back, but I was one heck of a walker back then.

I was able to access Econo-Mart this time, but the inexpensive stewing chicken I had wanted was not in stock.  I never said if I bought any of the more expensive fowls.    

I was back in New Westminster and trekking along Queens Avenue towards Sixth Street when I noticed the S.A.N.E. (Self Aid Never Ends) pick-up truck turning down Seventh Street (see this Google map, if the link works).

I worked at S.A.N.E. once a week ─ it was a charitable organization, and I was a swamper on that truck.  Today, S.A.N.E. is known as Fraserside Community Services Society.

I now have no idea what nor where "the 'big white dog' lane" was.  Obviously, there was a big white dog along it somewhere that had impressed me, perhaps negatively.

I also have no idea what book At the Edge of the World may have been.  However, Don Rodrigues:  Chronicles of Shadow Valley is easier to find information about, even if I don't recall the book.  

I had all but forgotten its author's name:  Lord Dunsany.  Interesting.  That name used to intrigue me.

Anyway, it appears that I made a bid to retire early that evening, but I was not sleepy for a long, long time.

And then late into that evening, my old friend Norman Richard Dearing came calling ─ he had a distinctive knock so that I would always know it was he, or I otherwise would be unlikely to answer the door.

He had been drinking with my brother Mark's girlfriend, Catherine Jeanette Gunther.  Mark and Jeanette were renting a home together located on Bentley Road in Whalley ─ the house was fairly near to 108th Avenue & King George Highway.

I guess she sent him to fetch me when he offered to head out and procure more beer.

I was willing ─ Norman was very dear to me.  So off to the Mr. Sport Hotel (formerly the Russell Hotel) we went to buy some off-sales.  Norman worked full-time, so he sprang for the two cases.

Mark was working shifts in some sort of mill, and scheduled to be finished his shift that night at 1:00 a.m. ─ an hour into the day of his birth.

He must have arrived home fairly soon after Norman and I joined Jeanette, and then the four of us sat up virtually all night drinking and playing cards ─ good times!

But poor Norman!  He drove me home to my room in New Westminster after daylight, and then would have had to turn about and drive back into Surrey and travel all the way to 64th Avenue and somewhere in the vicinity of 128th Street.

How did we keep those hours with such consistency?
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