Sunday, May 6, 2012

Vegetarians are Murderers

Mass Murder At The Dinner Table! How Smug Vegetarians Kill Trillions Of Living Things


As a life-long meat eater, I confess that I'm disgusted and shamed by eating habits that lead to the brutal deaths of so many of God's gentle, living things.

I am sickened by the fact that there are millions of people who don't care, and who even feel a moral superiority about the fact that their dietary practices sustain an industry of systematic mass murder.

I shudder to think that there is a growing culture of ghouls who happily eat babies, fetuses, sex organs, severed heads and mangled appendages, and who cause pain, disfigurement and death to a degree that would shock even a sicko like Adolph Hitler.

They are a culture of smug, arrogant murderers who portray their agenda of wholesale slaughter as the epitome of virtue.

These murderers are vegetarians.

Every year, billions of living plants are killed, disfigured, abused, beheaded, pillaged of offspring and otherwise brutalized in order to satisfy vegetarians' cravings for roughage and a lifestyle that makes them feel superior to others.

It's true . Anyone with the slightest understanding of agriculture knows that many plants are killed when harvested. Others have their fruits, which contain potential offspring, hideously ripped off their bodies.

But you'll never hear about this from vegetarians. All you get from them is self-righteous blather about how they can't eat meat because their overburdened consciences won't let them participate in a ritual that leads to the death of animals.
 

Veggies constantly try to make meat eaters feel guilty about killing cattle. Apparently though, their consciences don't throb over the murder of plants.

That's because the carrot-heads are the stupidest, most arrogant and hypocritical phonies ever. They're too dumb to understand that plants suffer and are killed in order to feed them.

So let's go through it, rutabaga killers.

Enjoying that salad? If it's made with iceberg, romaine, escarole or even succulent bibb lettuce, you're eating the beheaded portion of the plant. The legacy of your passion for leaves? Vast killing fields littered with the remains of millions of stumped, headless, formerly living things.

When a lettuce head is chopped off, a white, milk-like liquid seeps from the severed head and the plant stem. Call it plant juice, or whatever. It's plant blood. And that brown stump on the bottom of the lettuce head is the slice wound scabbed over.

Other plants that are decapitated en masse so veggies can scold others: cabbage, broccoli, cauliflower and celery. Cabbage and broccoli will live after their heads are chopped off. But they will sprout lots of tiny, new heads, making them look like mutated freaks.

Studies have proved that tomato plants scream when their scarlet fruits are ripped from their bodies. I've never heard a nasal-voiced veggie deplore such abuse. Ripe tomatoes contain scores of mature seeds. A plant seed is a self-contained plant fetus. Give it some water, sun and warm air and it'll grow. Billions of plant fetuses are gobbled daily by veggies in an unprecedented massacre of innocents.

Many vegetables are immature when torn from plants. They are, in effect, babies or children. Many simply wouldn't taste good if allowed to ripen or grow to adults. That makes veggies baby and child eaters. The carnage is appalling!

How about the cherished carrot that so many of today's self-righteous murderers chew on? They're ripped out of the ground while alive, and basically eaten alive. Others that suffer a similar fate: radishes, potatoes, turnips, parsnips, beets and green onions.

Consider the prized asparagus. These firm shafts are sliced off of the plants with sharp blades. But if left to grow, they would produce a feather-like plant with thousands of seeds. The shafts contain sex organs.

How many stalks of wheat give their lives for a loaf of whole-grain bread?

Next time a vegetarian nags you with a tirade about being a killer for eating meat, reply that they're the greatest mass murderers ever. And tell them on other thing:

That Adolph is smiling up at them.

Saturday, May 5, 2012

Lying on Resumes


Most people are forced to lie on their resumes



Yahoo’s CEO Scott Thompson is being hounded for lying on his resume and saying he had a degree in computer science when he didn’t. One of Yahoo’s largest shareholders wants the guy fired by noon on Monday for the lie.

My reaction is, so he lied on his resume?. Big deal. Who doesn’t?

Truth is, in this insanely credential crazed society, people feel forced to lie about their experience and credentials. And especially now, when computers, and not human beings, are reviewing resumes. Put the wrong qualification down, or fail to mention one that the computer is programmed to flag, and you’ll never get an interview.

At least when humans looked at these things they could get a feel for the person behind the words on the paper. No more.

And, as employers demand super-human employees who can do everything, job seekers are inflating their skills and experience to meet those idiotic expectations.

So, if you even once helped a co-worker learn a new skill, even if it was just for a day, you are now a “mentor who trained colleagues to master new skills critical to the company’s core mission.”

It’s as big a lie as saying you have a degree when you don’t. But it sounds good, and recruiters and interviewers love it. No, they demand it. Try shrugging in an interview and saying, “Yeah, I took a couple hours one day and showed Ed how to use Excel. It was no big deal after he got used to it.”

They’ll throw you out the door for failing to be a mentor.

I’ve seen resumes loaded with examples of “community service,” and boards and commissions people are on, which some bosses love. Problem is, most of that stuff is fraudulent as well. If some of these people actually participated in all those organizations and boards, they’d never have time to actually do their jobs or care for their families. They join the boards just to pad their resumes. They don’t actually do the stuff.

But imagine if you were asked in an interview about your record of community service and answered:

“I don’t have one. I work 50 hours a week, got a family, and when I’m off I’m dead tired and I like to spend it with them. And, when I’m off I like to relax, pop a few beers and watch war movies.”

You’d never get the job.

And when it comes to college degrees, in many instances nothing could be more useless, especially if you’ve been doing your job for more than 20 years. If you’ve been in the workforce that long, most of the stuff you learned in college is obsolete. If you’ve been working that long, you’ve learned more on the job, including new technologies and skills, than you ever did or could in school.

So why do they keep asking for obsolete degrees?

Some people, especially older workers, don’t have college degrees, but they have enormous skills, experience and instinct that college can’t and never could teach. If they’re honest on their resume and say they didn’t finish college, they’ll never get past the computer and called for an interview.

If they do lie and the lie is discovered, the self-righteous interviewer (who has most likely loaded up his or her resume with massive exaggerations) will become indignant.

It’s good that the late Steve Jobs started his own company. His resume would never make it past the computer because the founder of Apple never finished college.

There’s got to be a better and more honest way to hire people. The standard should be whether they can actually do the job, not what degrees they do or don’t have.

Until we find that better way, most everyone in the workforce will continue to lie.

Monday, January 2, 2012

Obesity Researcher's Theory Full of Fat

By Dennis Domrzalski

In the summers, after a breakfast of cornflakes and milk with a teaspoon of sugar—for treats, sugar-coated Frosted Flakes and Trix—we were out the door by eight.

There was only one rule: be home for supper at five in the afternoon.

We walked, we ran, we bicycled, we crawled, we hid, we played, we jumped hedges; we climbed fences, lampposts, buildings, garages and trees—we roamed our Chicago neighborhood at will until we dropped. After supper we went out again and played until dark. We slept soundly and jumped out of bed in the mornings, ready for another satisfying breakfast of cornflakes and a day of nonstop playing.

We were kids, and with a couple of exceptions, none of us were fat. How could we have been, what with engaging in eight to 10 hours of physical activity every day?

I mention this because there’s another idiotic theory on the obesity epidemic that has supposedly turned America into a nation of 300 million butterballs. This one, by Melinda Sothern, a fitness and nutrition expert at Louisiana State University, says that we’re all fat because of mothers in the 1950s and 1960s. Those moms smoked during pregnancies, didn’t breast feed and had kids too often. That has, according to Sothern, led to metabolic and physiological body changes that have turned us all into waddling, diabetic slobs.

If my ma were alive and had read Sothern’s theory she would have rolled her eyes, waved a hand and proclaimed, “That’s so silly. Doesn’t she have any common sense?” She would have answered herself, “no.” There are so many complex theories about obesity by over-educated PhDs., sociologists and other alleged deep thinkers that someone needs to throw simplicity into all the yakking and handwringing. So here it is:

Maybe we’ve turned into a nation of tubbos because we’ve become inert slobs who stuff our faces with chips while vacantly staring at wide-screen TVs and computer screens. Maybe we’re fat because we don’t do anything anymore—none of us.

I’ll start where obesity starts, with kids and their parents.

Our parents weren’t fat. Oh, some of the women were stout, and some of the men had beer bellies—back then a sign of prosperity and a nobly-lived life. They couldn’t have been fat because they actually did stuff. Most of the men worked in factories or machine shops and spent their eight hours lugging around hunks of steel. Others were mechanics or carpenters or printers, and who knows what else. But they moved all day and, for the most part, didn’t sit in offices and at desks. There were no computers or cell phones, so they couldn’t waste hours sitting still playing solitaire or checking stock prices.

Most of our moms were housewives. They didn’t sit around like lumps either. They washed clothes, ironed, vacuumed, swept, dusted, washed floors on their hands and knees and made breakfast, lunch and dinner. When they needed groceries or clothes for us kids, they—a shocker here—walked to the neighborhood stores. They had to walk because most families had one car, and the fathers took those to work. My ma walked somewhere every day.

Those moms weren’t fitness freaks who believed that kids could live on ionized air and melted glacier water. No, they believed in hearty meals. We ate fatty foods—lots of sour cream, butter and rich and tasty gravies. Pie crusts were made with lard, and fillings with real sugar.

Cauliflower was boiled and then slathered with bread crumbs and melted butter. Same with cabbage. Pork chops were fried in bacon grease. Chicken was baked in a roaster with a couple of sticks of butter for gravy. Pound cake and mashed potatoes were made with butter. We drank chocolate milk and ate cheesy, greasy pizza.

So why weren’t we fat? Because we moved—constantly.

If we weren’t out of the house by eight in the summers, we were told to get out and stay out. It’s not that the parents didn’t love us; they just knew instinctively that kids had to be out in the fresh air playing with their friends. So we did. And it was fun and glorious because we were with our pals and there were no parents hovering around worrying that we might fall and scrape our hands and knees, bump our heads or break a fingernail.

We walked and biked everywhere—to parks where we played ball, to junk-strewn lots where we played guns and army, to the railroad tracks where we put rocks and pennies on the tracks, to magic shops a couple of miles away. We played football, baseball, hide n seek and guns in the narrow streets and 16-foot-wide alleys. We caught spiders, hunted grasshoppers and raced each other for the hell of it. Our dads made us dig weeds in the lawns and cut the grass—with push mowers! We had to wash windows and blinds, sweep sidewalks and basements and otherwise work around the house. Later on, many of the guys had paper routes, which they walked.

During the school months we were in our play clothes and out of the house within 10 minutes of getting home. Here’s another shocker: We walked to and from school! For some kids it was a six-block walk. In kindergarten we were walked by parents, but from the first grade on, by older brothers and sisters. In nine years (1959-1968) of walking to the same grammar school, none of us was ever kidnapped.

We walked home for lunch and then back where we had Playground, which is now called recess, and which is increasingly banned by sissified and terrified school administrators. We chased each other, fought each other, played basketball, dodge ball and other games that are now considered horrifyingly dangerous by parents who are afraid of everything and who think that life is a risk-free proposition.

In the winters we shoveled snow, built snow forts, had snowball fights and played hockey. During the two-week Christmas break we were at Koz or Mozart parks every day, where they flooded the ball fields to make ice rinks, and skated until we dropped or our toes went numb. Then we’d go home, warm up, eat and go back to the park at night to skate some more.

The girls played too, maybe hopscotch and jump rope, who knows. But they were active because none of them were fat either.

As evidence that obesity is related to metabolic and physiological changes in Americans, one journalist who wrote about Sothern’s theory cited statistics. In 2002, middle-aged American men were 27 pounds heavier than guys in 1960, and gals 25 pounds heavier.

To that, we in the neighborhood would say, “No shit.”

In 1960, men and women moved and did physical labor. By 2002, most were behind computer screens and sedentary, and so were their kids. If you eat the same or more and become less physically active, you turn fat.

Rather than blaming obesity on 1950s moms, Sothern should cheer them for having had the common sense to have known that kids needed to be out playing constantly by themselves and burning up all that energy and all those cornflake calories. If she wants to end obesity, it’s simple: stop babying kids and get them playing, walking, fighting, jumping rope and running again, and get Americans out from behind their desks, computers and all-you-can-eat buffets.

And if Sothern wants to be taken seriously, she should slim down her mind; it’s obese with over-educated theory.