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Saturday, February 4, 2017

☠ 💀 Carcinogenic Acrylamide in Our Diets: Two Opposing Views │ Monsanto's Herbicide Roundup About to Be Labeled Potentially Carcinogenic by California? │ TV Watching and 8 Major Causes of Death

Dissolute corruption reigned yet again last night; and by the time I had left my computer and found myself in bed, it was 2:47 a.m.

My spirit is bruised this day.

We continue to receive some snow ─ it began early yesterday, and has thus far left so much that I would say we have as much as we did in the peak during the six or more weeks when we had our first Winter's fall of snow early on December 5, 2016.

I took these three photos through the living room window, looking out into our cul-de-sac, around 1:45 p.m.:




And it was 2:09 p.m. when I took this photo of my youngest step-son Pote trying to winkle out the broken-off stem of the key used to lock the backyard shed. He had gone out there last evening to get a shovel, but instead broke off the key trying to unlock the door:


He failed to retrieve the severed length of key, so he has as his next mission to try and find a locksmith's key extraction tool somewhere.

And now I see that Google has already made a panorama of those first three photos:


After failing to get the broken-off piece of key, Poté said that he was going to borrow a shovel from our neighbours' home to the immediate right as one faces out the living room window ─ it were some of that household who were engaged doing some snow-clearing of their own in the photos above.

Otherwise, he doubted he would be able to get his car out of the open car-port where it was parked.

He went outside, and just then his older brother Tho came hiking in ─ he had been away since at least Wednesday, probably staying at the home of his girlfriend.

As it developed, Tho did the roughshod clearing. He worked for speed and not thoroughness, probably wanting to get the shovel back to its owners as quickly as he could.

Poté and his newly-arrived girlfriend stood under the shelter of the car-port and watched Tho. And eventually, Poté was able to drive off with said girlfriend, supposedly to do some shopping ─ and perhaps get a key extractor.

As for Tho ─ serving a year-long driving suspension (it is his car near the entrance to the driveway in that first photo) ─ I took some mercy upon the lad and finally offered to show him how to use my younger brother Mark's Android TV Box to watch a new movie. We have had that device for several months, but Tho was never made privy to its use.

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Quite recently in one of my posts, I included some information concerning a U.K. study warning against acrylamide in our diet ─ it is carcinogenic. I have long known that consuming food that has been partially charcoalized can indeed lead to the development of cancer, but the study declared that even just browning will produce this dangerous substance.

Here is an official U.K. report targeting the public about the issue of browning foods:

Food.gov.uk

The reason I am bringing this up again is because of two extreme views on the warning. Let's lead off with the one that feels the danger is not sufficiently stressed:

JacksDailyDose.com

And now one that basically pooh-poohs the danger:

Wired.co.uk

Professor Paul Pharoah is of course welcome to his views, as is Jack Harrison. But I think that I would prefer to lean towards the cautionary camp as opposed to those impugning the dangers of dietary acrylamide.

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I only learned today that utterly despicable Monsanto may have lost their bid to stop California from labeling the herbicide Roundup as potentially carcinogenic:

DailyMail.co.uk

USnews.com

That corporation is founded upon lies and bullying ─ it should deservedly go extinct.

The following is from NewMarketHealth.com, offering a few tips on how to avoid Roundup's active deadly ingredient glyphosate:
...While completely avoiding exposure to it may now be almost impossible, here are the top three ways to protect yourself and your family from everyday sources of glyphosate: 
#1: Go for organic when buying bread and other items made from flour and lentils, peas, dry beans, flax, barley, potatoes, and oats. Those are crops most likely to have been sprayed with the chemical before harvesting. 
#2: For the big three GMO crops — soy, canola and corn — your choices should be organic, or those labeled “GMO-Free.” 
#3: Don’t use Roundup around your home. It may be an easy way to kill weeds… but honestly, is that something worth risking your family’s health over?
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An interesting article by Dr. Marc S. Micozzi postulates something I have wondered concerning those studies that find that T.V. couch potatoes are threatening their own lives with the dormant pastime ─ might not one of the reasons for the increase in incidences of disease be all of the harmful snacks such couch potatoes generally consume?

Mightn't the ingestion of improper foods and refreshments night-after-night be more dangerous than inactivity?

DrMicozzi.com

The only time I watch T.V. in a passive 'zombie-like' state is when I am sitting up late on those nights that my wife Jack has come home from Vancouver, and I am awaiting her retirement to bed so that I can do the same.

Because we have an Android TV Box, I spend a few hours of my evening deeply invested into the entertainment that I lose myself to, for the shows are all regulars that I very much enjoy, and they are commercial-free.

They are exciting viewing, and I find myself strongly affected by them.

I do not snack, but I do have my evening drinks to enhance my enjoyment, and help relieve me of the day's stresses.

I watch no T.V. during the day ─ I am too busy in the mornings with whichever of my six hosted websites that I am compiling a post for; and my afternoons are consumed by this blog.

I find that the shows I regularly watch provoke thought and emotion. For me, T.V. viewing in the evening is nothing passive.

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I hope eldest step-son Tho does not get too comfy watching Android TV Box movies ─ the afternoon is one thing, and he can watch as much as he likes; but I need my evenings in front of the box!

Here to close out today's post is a journal entry from 41 years ago when I was 26 years old, and living in a basement housekeeping unit in New Westminster.

I was renting that small space in a house located on Ninth Street, and one or two houses up from Third Avenue.

My major plan of the day was a hike out to the home of my mother Irene Dorosh in the Kennedy Heights area of Surrey. That little house that she shared with her husband Alex was my main mailing address.

The house is now gone, but its address was 12106 - 90th Avenue. To hike there from my room took about 1½ hours of fast-paced walking. 

I had turned in at 8:30 p.m. the previous evening.
WEDNESDAY, February 4, 1976

After a pretty bad night's sleep, I got up about 4:00 a.m.

I left for mom's about 6:35 a.m. The sky was black and clear, and it was fortunately chill, for I was lugging along 25 lbs. of flour.

My foot acted as if the arch were injured, and this is now accepted by me as a possibility; bones could be disturbed, for coming home in the evening it felt as if my foot could be suffering a dislocation.

I kept my eating to a reasonable level quantitavely, though I ate a lot of carbohydrate.

A letter from Terri was ─ no,it was Ron whose letter was awaiting me; in today's mail came February's Good News

In the afternoon, Mark dropped off Cathy while he went to keep a mill job interview; he got the job, and starts tomorrow afternoon; he's not exactly happy about the situation tho.

It seems Bill damaged 3 toes in his Monday a.m. fall at Nell's; he even went so far as to have them examined. He was staggering around painlessly enough after the incident, however.

And supposedly Bruce had a heart seizure, and was coughing up blood. 

Cathy also said that there may be a surprise birthday party Saturday for Sandy; she will let me know the facts when she learns them.

I left for home with a small loaf of bread mom gave me.

It was sunny all day, but cold.

Alex tooted at me coming home along Scott.

I found an envelope on my door; it contained an invitation for the marriage & reception of Art's brother Gerald February 14 at the Unit 68 Legion Banquet Hall 1837 Maine; he's wedding Shirley, whom I met a New Year's Eve about 2 years ago.

My bran is sure coming through!

Bed: 7:15 p.m.
Terri Martin and Ron Bain were U.S. pen-pals I had back then.

My younger brother Mark was to come by our mother's home to leave his girlfriend Catherine Jeanette Gunther while he headed off for the job interview.

The previous Sunday evening, a bunch of us ─ two cars were used ─ went down to Bellingham to drink U.S. beer. There were no Sunday openings of bars or liquor stores hereabouts in British Columbia back then.

My old friend William Alan Gill owned one of the cars, but Jeanette drove it that night. Bill got so plastered that when we returned to the home of my maternal Aunt Nell Halverson in Surrey, he fell on the front steps.

Keep in mind that Bill was maybe 5 feet 10 inches in height, and well over 300 pounds. He was so very drunk that a young fellow named Bill Little had to drive Bill and I back to New Westminster.  Bill Little returned the car the next morning.

It was my maternal cousin Bruce Halverson who had the seizure or whatever befell him. Bruce had also gone drinking that night. He had rheumatic heart fever as a youngster, and later needed heart surgery, but he loved his drink. Alas, the dear young man was to die in February 1978 at the age of 27.

The possible surprise birthday party coming up on Saturday was for Sandy Halverson, wife of my cousin Randy Halverson ─ Bruce's older brother.

As I was making my way for home, my mother's husband Alex passed me on Scott Road as he drove home from work.

The wedding invitation I found on my room's door was for the marriage of Gerald (Judd) Smith, the younger brother of a former older co-worker by the name of Art Smith. Art was in his early 40s.

I was to attend that wedding with the two brothers ─ we all got lit. But practically from the start of the marriage, Judd was to learn painfully that he had married a quarrelsome lush. They were not to be together for long.

I always felt bad for good-hearted Judd ─ I quite liked the man. He spent money celebrating his marriage as if he were a rich man, but he most assuredly was not. 

I looked up the address for that Legion banquet hall after seeing it in that journal entry.. An auction group named Maynard's now has that location.  

Regardless, the original location may not have been a Legion. A Unit #68 exists for the Army Navy Air Force Veterans in Canada, although housed elsewhere.
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