Thursday, August 20, 2009

Holy healthy frustration!

Over-prescribed America: the pharmaceutical industry has successfully turned everyone into hypochondriacs. Nikki, my roommate, works at a pharmacy, and has to deal with getting harassed by individuals who firmly believe that without their medication, they will surely die. Yes, they literally question her, "Do you want me to die?"

Nikki spoke of how pharmaceutical companies, who send reps around with a big wad of money to descend upon doctors and shower them with freebies (in the form of computers and other high tech gadgetry) to use their crap (yes, crap), even make medication for side effects to their own product.

Say, a migrane medicine? Ah yes, I should stock up on high blood pressure and nausea pills too. Or maybe, I could really just drink more water.

Words escape me feeling this utterly painful pit in my stomach in regards to the sadness felt towards the current state of society: that it seems, no one can just fend for themselves: they must always be desperately seeking out some instant temporary relief.

Where's the journalists who are questioning Obama for essentially getting secretly financially involved with all these big company juggernauts? The muckrakers who want to go in and dissect these soulless (albeit beneficial, at times) burdens upon our country? Where's the writers who want to urge Americans, as well as every country, to re-learn how to take care of themselves, in which they wouldn't have to bow down to these modern day carpet baggers?

Under rocks, I suppose. Maybe I can coerce them out with a stick... heeere journy-journ. Come out, come out...

Tuesday, August 11, 2009

Frazzled.

I have a close friend in Northampton who, day by day, has been expanding my knowledge on the current agricultural crisis.

My interest in the topic started when I saw a This American Life episode last winter where they went to an engineered pig farm, but the more I read, the more I'm getting frustrated. Here's some links to various sites/articles/documentaries: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Monsanto, http://www.foodincmovie.com, http://www.organicconsumers.org/monlink.cfm

and apparently, this is the woman to turn to, an Anastasia who lives in the outskirts of Siberia: http://www.ringingcedars.com





even more importantly, I'm teetering on the edge of wanting to be more outspoken about being against Obama. Just as many vegans don't expound their views onto others, I'm not doing so in regards to how I feel towards our current president, but honestly, Americans of every race and religion need to wake up. As a journalist, messenger, whatever you want to call me, I need to be true to myself to say what I think. Think what you want, but I wouldn't call myself misinformed.


[I'd like to think these people weren't crazy.]

On a different note, I have taken much consideration into becoming a vegan. Moving to Northampton has opened my eyes, broadened my horizons and perspectives. Connecticut is in denial mode major, and I'm glad I got out.


Food for thought.

Saturday, August 1, 2009

"Oh come on. You haven't even tried donuts yet. You wanna store some fat, that is the way to store some fat, you'll be sweating through the winter."

Thursday night. Time: around nine pm.

In a quasi sedated state, my roommate Nicki and I decide to leave the apartment. As Nicki grabs something, I lead the way out, walking down the steps, and as I throw open the screen door, I see something that stops me dead in my tracks.

A large, brown bear.

Yes, Yogi the bear had decided to grace his presence upon the residence next door. The only thing separating myself from this nuisance was a miserable looking fence, one that said bear could pulverize in a pinch.

Alas, he was occupied in Fantasyland: four very large, full garbage cans were there for the taking. Nicki and I stood at the fence, transfixed on our visitor. While our neighbor called animal control, Nicki took photos with her phone, and I let out a "Holy shit I can't believe it's a bear" (or something to that extent) every few minutes or so.

At times, he'd look up at us, but that was all; he could care less. Funniest moment: him climbing into a toppled garbage bin, and our neighbor laughing, "If only we could shut the lid and catch him."

When he had exhausted all of his options, he decided to wander down towards an old folks establishment. "If they see him, someone's going to have a heart attack," I told Nicki. I was worried however, for he was walking towards South Street, which is extremely busy.

Running down the road, we found him chilling by a tree. All of a sudden, a helicopter began circling above us; I believe they may have used it as a tactic to 'scare' him back into the woods, and he did run away.

Later on at a friends house, I was a mere feet away from a skunk, who was apparently munchin' and crunchin' on a nice bag of trash. Arriving home, we find out that a neighbor's dog got skunked.

Yes, I made an Over The Hedge reference. It had to be expected, right?

 
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