March 2010
38 posts
February 2010
22 posts
Metric advance,
Lapse into arcs in deference
To circumstance.” —on inhabiting an orange :: josephine miles « poetry
Even a healthy eater might be induced to have a cookie or two when the neighborhood Girl Scout comes knocking. But with conclusive evidence that trans fats are a serious health risk, it doesn’t take a radical food activist to decide to avoid it altogether. Which begs the question: Should the Girl Scouts be peddling cookies that Americans shouldn’t eat? That’s right, the cookie you’re supposed to feel good about contains trans-fat, forcing you to decide whether to warm your heart by helping your neighbor’s kid or protect your heart by avoiding a notorious no-no food. Trans fats, which are more dangerous than saturated fats, have been linked to heart disease and diabetes. The health effects are serious enough that the generally permissive FDA requires food labels to include trans-fat content. But, if the content is less than half a gram, the manufacturers can round down to zero. Such is the case for several types of Girl Scout cookie. Trans fats are born in the food laboratory from the process of hydrogenating oils to extend shelf life.
The first language humans had was gestures. There was nothing primitive about this language that flowed from people’s hands, nothing we say now that could not be said in the endless array of movements possible with the fine bones of the fingers and wrists…
During the Age of Silence, people communicated more, not less. Basic survival demanded that the hands were almost never still, and so it was only during sleep (and sometimes not even then) that people were not saying something or other. No distinction was made between the gestures of language and the gestures of life. The labor of building a house, say, or preparing a meal was no less an expression than making the sign for I love you or I feel serious. When a hand was used to shield one’s face when frightened by a loud noise something was being said, and when fingers were used to pick up what someone else had dropped something was being said; and even when the hands were at rest, that, too, was saying something…
If at large gatherings or parties, or around people with whom you feel distant, your hands sometimes hang awkwardly at the ends of your arms – if you find yourself at a loss for what to do with them, overcome with sadness that comes when you recognize the foreignness of your own body – it’s because your hands remember a time when the division between mind and body, brain and heart, what’s inside and what’s outside, was so much less.
” —abi | blog » The Age of Silence