Thanks to farm subsidies, the fine collaboration between agribusiness and Congress, soy, corn and cattle became king. And chicken soon joined them on the throne. It was during this period that the cycle of dietary and planetary destruction began, the thing we're only realizing just now.
quote by Mark Bittman
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Related quotes
The sad thing is, when it comes to diet, is that even when well-intentioned Feds try to do right by us, they fail. Either they're outvoted by puppets of agribusiness, or they are puppets of agribusiness.
quote by Mark Bittman
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sunday Cycle Rides
Quite often, on a Sunday morning,
Dad and I would take a cycle ride.
Up the steep hills, we would struggle,
But, down them, we would glide.
We’d cycle to villages like Monxton,
Abbott’s Ann and St Mary Bourne.
We’d pass fields of lowing cattle,
As well as fields of golden corn.
Once, as we were passing some sheep,
I gently applied my brakes and stopped.
I stood watching the cute little lambs,
As they leapt, and jumped, and hopped.
We would cycle along the back roads,
And whiz along winding, country lanes.
I felt happy enough when the sun was out,
But not so much so, when it began to rain.
Along the roads, we’d pass babbling brooks,
And horses with rhythmic clip-clopping hooves.
We’d pass village greens with duck ponds,
And pretty little cottages with thatched roofs.
But our cycle rides abruptly came to an end,
When, one day, my Dad suddenly died.
Nowadays, I don’t even own a bicycle,
But I really miss our Sunday cycle rides.
poem by Angela Wybrow
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Old Macdonald
(words & music by randy starr)
Old macdonald had a farm, ee-i-ee-i-o
And on that farm he had some chicks, ee-i-ee-i-o
With a cluck, cluck here, a cluck, cluck there
Loud as they could be
And when those chicks got out of line
Chicken fricasse
With a cluck, cluck here, a cluck, cluck there
Loud as they could be
And when those chicks got out of line
Chicken fricasse
Well, old macdonald had a farm, ee-i-ee-i-o
And on that farm he had some cows, ee-i-ee-i-o
With a moo, moo here, a moo, moo there
Cattle everywhere
And when those cows got out of line
Hamburger, medium rare
With a moo, moo here, a moo, moo there
Cattle everywhere
And when those cows got out of line
Hamburger, medium rare
Ohh, well, old macdonald had a farm, ee-i-ee-i-o
And on that farm he had some pigs, ee-i-ee-i-o
With an oink, oink here, an oink, oink there
Pigs everywhere in sight
And when those pigs got out of line
Pork and beans at night
With an oink, oink here, an oink, oink there
Pigs everywhere in sight
And when those pigs got out of line
Pork and beans at night
Well Im goona have a farm one day, ee-i-e-i-o
And Ill do things mcdonalds way, ee-i-e-i-o
With a cluck, cluck here, a cluck, cluck there
A moo, moo here, a moo, moo there
An oink, oink here, an oink, oink there
And I can promise you
If those animals ever get out of line
Well have a mulligan stew
How about you?
song performed by by Elvis Presley
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Varied Menu
Chicken and rice.
Fish and rice.
Rice and chicken.
Rice and fish.
Varied menu - 'ish!
Nice jungle place.
There's plenty of space.
Fresh clean air
But that dietary pair,
Fish or chicken
.....Not again!
So more trekking with a frown
Back to Georgetown.....
poem by George BernardBloodyShaw
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Extraterrestrial Beings - David Wilcock
Calculate revolutions of all objects celestial
using the magical Nineveh constant - fit the
planets’ rotation into a round cycle number
indicating each object’s sun revolution
The stars become a celestial clock, day one
is the alignment of all planetary bodies, used
as coordinates in the hyper-dimensional
gymnastics of extraterrestrial beings
Extraterrestrials travel outside linear time, they
see planets in all probable positions at the same
time so planetary orbits appear as giant rings
and all conjunctions are visible at a glance
Their coordinates set to ‘Omega Point’ where the
cycle begins, planets aligned, they enter our third-
dimension linear time-stream at light-speed, planets
swinging round about like a big clock
They choose a time period within cycles of twenty-
five-thousand Pluto revolutions, Jupiter and Saturn
in conjunction - the perfect time for the arrival of
extraterrestrial beings…
David Wilcock: Divine Cosmos
The Nineveh Constant is a fantastic calculator, as it is designed to fit the rotation of every planet into a certain round number of cycles...
divinecosmos.com/resources/shiftoftheages /18.html
poem by Margaret Alice Second
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The Farm
There┬┤s a cockroach in my coffee
There┬┤s a needle in my arm
And I feel like New York City
Get me to the farm
Get me to the farm
Get me to the farm
Somebody get me to the farm
I got terminal uniqueness
I'm an egocentric man
I get caught up in my freakness
But I ain┬┤t no Peter Pan
Get me to the farm
Get me to the farm
Get me to the farm
Get me...
Buckle up straight Jack
Sanity is such a drag
Jellybeam thorazene
Trancendental jet lag
Sanity I ain┬┤t gotta
Feeling like a pinala
Sucker punch-blowin┬┤lung
Motherload-pigeonholed
I'm feeling like I'm gonna explode
I wanna be a Hare Krishna
Tattoo a dot right on my head
And the prozac is my fixer
I am the living dead
Take me to the farm
Take me to the farm
Somebody take me to the farm
Somebody take me to the farm
Take me to the farm
Take me to the farm
Somebody take me to the farm
Somebody take me to the farm
Take me to the farm
Take me to the farm
Take me to the farm...
Take me to the farm
Take me to the farm
Somebody take me to the farm
song performed by by Aerosmith
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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It Is What It Is Or Is It
Failure requires no preparation
Is this my downfall is this where i went wrong
Was i preparing way to long
Can birds fly upside down
But are we all scared of clowns
What came first night or day
The chicken or the egg they say
You can be in a crowd but still be lonely
If you walked backwards
Would you end up at the start
How come lightning never strikes twice in same place
Dose it know its been there before
Can you miss someone you have never none
Why do we fall down but never up
Is the best thing for a hangover
Drinking heavy the night before
Whats on the dark side of the moon
Can you circle the globe in eighty days
In just a balloon
Do fish sleep while they are still moving
Can you still hear without listening
Can you still see with with out looking
Do bees make honey cause they have a sweat tooth
If you had an ant farm would you farm ants
Why cant a step ladder have ladders of their own
And the king have a lounge instead of a thrown
Do animals like being in a zoo
Would like every one watching everything you do
It’s the second day that I visit
It’s the second day that I visit
on the farm near Reivelo,
just past Vryburg.
They farm with cattle, goats,
a few sheep, muscovy ducks, turkeys
and chicken.
The scrambler bumps up and down
right through the field
and go past rocks and bushes,
while we drive along the rough field
and the hot wind
cut across my face
and there are places
where it cannot go.
It’s time to transform
young bulls to oxen,
to brand cattle
and to cut their horns
and I get a black stallion
to ride into the field.
My cousin rides in front
with a brown Arabian mare
and there are bushes
and flat slabs of rock
and small hillocks that we past
to try and round up young cattle
to the corral.
It’s nice to be a cattle herder
for a time
and to use legs and heels
and reigns,
to round up cattle in the field.
Every thing goes well until
I chase a young black bull
just to the entrance of the fold,
where it stops stubbornly
and doesn’t want to move
a feet further.
I jump out of the saddle,
fasten the reigns
to a small branch
and rush to the obstinate bull.
It stands and snorting
and stamp its feet
and when it sees me,
it rushes confused
at the horse.
That faithful horse stands firm
while the bulls horns swishes
onto the reigns
and the horse
stops that bull in its tracts,
that a piece of the bridle
breaks right off.
Then I am at the bull
and pull the reigns
out of its horns
and it walks meek
into the corral,
while in astonishment
I stand and look at that animal.
With a knee-strap
and pliers in the nose
we draw the bull to the ground
and when we shear it,
it moans like a heifer
and there’s a burning smell
that goes up from the branding iron
and I see the horns
dropp at my feet
and it’s another beast
when it stand on its feet.
poem by Gert Strydom
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Women's song of the corn
How beautiful are the corn rows,
Stretching to the morning sun,
Stretching to the evening sun.
Very beautiful, the long rows of corn.
How beautiful is the white corn,
I husk it,
I grind it.
Very beautiful, my white corn.
How beautiful is the red corn,
I gather it and make fine meal,
I am glad doing this.
Very beautiful, my red corn.
How beautiful is the black corn,
I give it to my father,
To my mother,
I give it to my child.
Very beautiful, the black corn.
How beautiful is the mottled corn,
Like the sky with little clouds,
I eat it looking at the sky.
Very beautiful, my mottled corn.
poem by Amy Lowell
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The Obama administration and the Democratic Congress have taken the biggest lurch to the left in policy in American history. There've been no - no Congress, no administration that has run this far to the left in such a small period of time. And there is a reaction to that.
quote by Haley Barbour
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Washed Animals
After ablutions and breakfast, the cattle are raised
To be fine helpers in the family farm so to speak.
Turning the radio to a desirable station our keeping
Is alerted by the frowning of a gentlemanly farmer.
From the supermarket a produce is used for excellence
To remain in the morning of salutations and remembrance.
The cattle grow everyday to enlighten and disburden,
This pouring out of wine into the jug of the golden variety
Is stale action, stale thought and stale wording.
We as cleanliness must reach a proper income
By instigating and stating the sum of money.
poem by Naveed Akram
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Chicken Pot Pie
When we were young, bernies deli was down the block
(ooh ooh ooh ooh)
He made a great liver pate
(you know he did, you know he did, you know he did)
But if theres one thing in this world that I like better
Than a corned beef on rye
Its chicken pot pie
Chicken pot pie
(chorus of chicken-cluck imitations)
song performed by by Weird Al Yankovic
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Watching The Rebirth Of Your Star...(repost)
when your universe breaks
in the same manner that other universe does
the most natural thing
that must happen
i, in my own, planetary motion,
watch the shattering and the bursting
of the bubble
it is not that i want to see
how you destroy yourself
i am not that
sadistic, the stars know me by heart
and the moon likes me for that
it is this
within you, after, shall be
the birth of the
new star
and this happens
all you have to do is just wait
because
as always stars are born
after an explosion
tell you what?
it will be the best stage to watch
the nicest thing that happens to you
also happens
to me
and once again the universe
celebrates again
each, happy again,
following each own
planetary orbit
with Sun as God
with the other planets as
friends.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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We made more money feeding molasses, urea, and corn cobs to cattle than we ever did feeding dent corn.
quote by Orville Redenbacher
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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L'Ancien Regime
Who has a thing to bring
For a gift to our lord the king,
Our king all kings above?
A young girl brought him love;
And he dowered her with shame,
With a sort of infamous fame,
And then with lonely years
Of penance and bitter tears --
Love is scarcely the thing
To bring as a gift for our king.
Who has a thing to bring
For a gift to our lord the king?
A statesman brought him planned
Justice for all the land;
And he in recompense got
Fierce struggle with brigue and plot,
Then a fall from lofty place
Into exile and disgrace --
Justice is never the thing
To bring as a gift for our king.
Who has a thing to bring
For a gift to our lord the king?
A writer brought him truth;
And first he imprisoned the youth,
And then he bestowed a free pyre
That the works might have plenty of fire,
And also to cure the pain
Of the headache called thought in the brain --
Truth is a very bad thing
To bring as a gift for our king.
Who has a thing to bring
For a gift to our lord the king?
The people brought their sure
Loyalty fervid and pure;
And he gave them bountiful spoil
Of taxes and hunger and toil,
Ignorance, brutish plight,
And wholesale slaughter in fight --
Loyalty's quite the worst thing
To bring as a gift for our king.
Who has a thing to bring
For a gift to our lord the king?
A courtier brought to his feet
Servility graceful and sweet,
With an ever ready smile
And an ever supple guile;
And he got in reward the place
Of the statesman in disgrace --
Servility's always a thing
To bring as a gift for our king.
Who has a thing to bring
For a gift to our lord the king?
A soldier brought him war,
La gloire, la victoire,
Ravage and carnage and groans,
For the pious Te Deum tones;
And he got in return for himself
Rank and honors and pelf --
War is a very fine thing
To bring as a gift for our king.
Who has a thing to bring
For a gift to our lord the king?
A harlot brought him her flesh,
Her lusts, and the manifold mesh
Of her wiles intervolved with caprice;
And he gave her his realm to fleece,
To corrupt, to ruin, and gave
Himself for her toy and her slave
Harlotry's just the thing
To bring as a gift for our king.
Who has a thing to bring
For a gift to our lord the king,
Our king who fears to die?
A priest brought him a lie,
The blackness of hell uprolled
In heaven's shining gold;
And he got as guerdon for that
A see and a cardinal's hat --
A lie is an excellent thing
To bring as a gift for our king.
Has any one yet a thing
For a gift to our lord the king?
The country gave him a tomb,
A magnificent sleeping-room;
And for this it obtained some rest,
Clear riddance of many a pest,
And a hope which it much enjoyed
That the throne would continue void --
A tomb is the very best thing
For a gift to our lord the king.
poem by James Thomson
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Improved Farm Land
Tall timber stood here once, hee on a corn belt farm along the Monon.
Here the roots of a half-mile of trees dug their runners deep in the loam for a grip and a hold against wind storms.
Then the axemen came and the chips flew to the zing of steel and handle--the lank railsplitters cut the big ones first, the beeches and the oaks, then the brush.
Dynamite, wagons, and horses took the stumps--the plows sunk their teeth in--now it is first class corn land--omproved property--and the hogs grunt over the fodder crops.
It would come hard now for this half mile of improved farm land along the Monon corn belt, on a piece of Grand Prarie, to remember once it had a great singing family of trees.
poem by Carl Sandburg
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Crow Black Chicken
(laurence wilson)
Well, I went on the mountain
And I gave my horn a blow
Thought I heard some purty gal say
Yonder come my beau
Crow black chicken and crow for a day
Crow black chicken and fly away
Crow black chicken and-a ...
I like chicken pie
Well, the hardest work that ever I done
Is plowin a field of rye
The easiest work that ever I done
Was eatin chicken pie
Chicken crow for midnight
And chicken crow for a day
Along come an owl, lord, have mercy
And stole my chicken away
song performed by by Ry Cooder
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Madness
(For Sara Teasdale)
The lonely farm, the crowded street,
The palace and the slum,
Give welcome to my silent feet
As, bearing gifts, I come.
Last night a beggar crouched alone,
A ragged helpless thing;
I set him on a moonbeam throne --
Today he is a king.
Last night a king in orb and crown
Held court with splendid cheer;
Today he tears his purple gown
And moans and shrieks in fear.
Not iron bars, nor flashing spears,
Not land, nor sky, nor sea,
Nor love's artillery of tears
Can keep mine own from me.
Serene, unchanging, ever fair,
I smile with secret mirth
And in a net of mine own hair
I swing the captive earth.
poem by Joyce Kilmer
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They called me to the Window, for
628
They called me to the Window, for
" 'Twas Sunset"—Some one said—
I only saw a Sapphire Farm—
And just a Single Herd—
Of Opal Cattle—feeding far
Upon so vain a Hill—
As even while I looked—dissolved—
Nor Cattle were—nor Soil—
But in their stead—a Sea—displayed—
And Ships—of such a size
As Crew of Mountains—could afford—
And Decks—to seat the skies—
This—too—the Showman rubbed away—
And when I looked again—
Nor Farm—nor Opal Herd—was there—
Nor Mediterranean—
poem by Emily Dickinson
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Forgiveness (Realization)
forgiveness is the energy
of realization...
realizing, the person you're
mad at or hurt by is just an
extension of yourself, another
part of you. realizing, the act
they've committed against you
is just a human act, whether
done on purpose, or without
thinking... realizing, that you
commit similar acts in your day
to day existence...
realizing, not forgiving, holding
on to the anger and pain, only
hurts you yourself! it becomes a
form of prison, self-imposed...
realizing, the mistake is not the
person!
forgiveness, the realization of
freedom in relationships!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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