Well, okay, but they didn’t know it was unsafe before, until a bunch of people got food poisoning. That seems to keep happening every few months. Have things changed so it’s not likely to happen again, or is the strategy to do nothing different, wait for people to get sick, and then have another recall?
“When I was in Dushanbe, the Korean-Tajik ladies who ran the (tiny) cafeteria would serve this daily. We would also get it in Turkmenistan, but it was less common there.”
Well, once I was served roast lamb in a Navy mess hall. It was pretty good. The Marines didn’t know what it was.
For the last few years I’d been having joint pain that, having taken Latin in high school, I felt competent to diagnose as arthritis. Walking was painful, especially after sitting for a long time.
A couple of weeks ago I happened to read something about turmeric, and then the next day there happened to be some turmeric in the mark-down bin at the local grocery. I bought it, then read more about turmeric and one of it’s active components, curcumin. Since then I’ve been mixing up a half teaspoon of ground turmeric with about a quarter teaspoon of black pepper in a glass of V-8 everyday, and have had no more joint pain. The reduction, really the complete elimination of pain, was pretty dramatic and took less than a week.
It sounds like some people respond to turmeric and some don’t. If you have joint pain, it might be worth trying. The black pepper is said to be necessary to metabolize the curcumin, but I haven’t tried it without.
Remember, I’m just a random guy on the internet. Don’t take medical advice from random guys on the internet.
The graduate students at Yale are on a hunger strike: they won’t eat until they get hungry. On the one hand, that’s not a bad habit to form. On the other hand, what a bunch of wimps.
It reminds me of the (no doubt embellished) story of the Irish monks back in the day (800 AD?) who competed in advanced asceticism. The monks on the hill announced they’d fast for so many days. The monks in the valley said they’d fast for one day longer than their brothers up on the hill. One group sent a provocateur over the the other to say the brothers had broken their fast early. So the hungry monks broke their fast. Then the provocateur let it be known they hadn’t really broken their fast, and so had won.
Meanwhile, the Yale College Republicans had a barbeque.
One might say Yale isn’t making their graduate students miserable; the graduate students are making Yale miserable. But nobody’s really all that miserable, just irritable and a bit peckish, except for the Republicans.
Students at Oberlin College don’t like the food. But they can’t just not like the food, because it’s 2015; the food can’t just be not very good; it must be wrong and wicked; violent and oppressive; at the very least, a micro-aggression. Kids today, right? When I was a student, the food was a macro-aggression, and we ate it anyway, because there wasn’t anything else, unless you had money.* Then after dinner we went out and protested — not for ice cream, but for Natan Sharansky. But I digress.
The students at Oberlin find their food culturally appropriative, inauthentic, and racist. They want, no kidding, fried chicken every Sunday. I think the demand for fried chicken is evidence that not everyone at Oberlin is a complete idiot.
“What should we ask for?”
“Come on, guys, this it nuts. The rice for the sushi is undercooked? Really?”
“Yes, Carl, we know, but it’s what all the popular kids are doing. Think of it as an opportunity. What should we ask for? How about a big chicken dinner every Sunday?”
“Sure, whatever; to the barricades! No passaran! For the chicken! Anyway, I’ve got finals to study for.”
“So, all in favor of demanding chicken on Sundays?”
At least maybe someone gets a chicken dinner out of it.
*Really, the food in the dining hall was fine, though a little bland and monotonous. After I moved out of the residnece hall into an apartment the food got a good deal worse.