I am David Adams

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    There are different species of laziness: Eastern and Western. The Eastern style is like the one practised in India. It consists of hanging out all day in the sun, doing nothing, avoiding any kind of work or useful activity, drinking cups of tea, listening to Hindi film music blaring on the radio, and gossiping with friends. Western laziness is quite different. It consists of cramming our lives with compulsive activity, so there is no time at all to confront the real issues. This form of laziness lies in our failure to choose worthwhile applications for our energy.
    Sogyal Rinpoche
    (this post was reblogged from zachklein)

    “One of the many stupidities we allow our politicians — a stupidity that seems to us as incontestable as the law of gravity — is the phrase ‘jobs for working people.’ Oh yes, we all want that. But what exactly does it mean? Does it refer to jobs in menial and debasing situations from the slaughterhouse to McDonalds to Wal-Mart to the corporate carrel? Why do we think in such an uncomplicated way that these are good and desirable forms of work? Is it impossible to imagine that what politicians mean by prosperity is actually experienced by human beings as boredom? As weariness? As betrayal? And just who are these ‘working people,’ after all? Are some people not working people? Doesn’t the term refer to those among us who have little choice except to do anything, regardless of the destructiveness of the task, so long as it is dignified with the title ‘job’?”

    — Curtis White, The Barbaric Heart

    
Paul Roberts, in his book The End of Food, calls this the “protein paradox”: meat production has outstripped people production. Through advances in breeding and grain feeding, the cost of one pound of meat is cheaper now than at any time in history. And yet that downswing in cost hasn’t led to any kind of meat-eating democracy. If anything, it has enabled—and at this point, even encouraged—a kind of pork chop dictatorship. Not only do we eat too much meat, we also eat too much of the wrong parts. We don’t know where our meat comes from, we don’t know what the animal we’re eating ate, and we sure don’t know how to get behind the stove and take control of what we put in our mouths.
We ought to start by looking at the great food cultures of the world. The traditional cuisines of Asia and North Africa, not to mention France and Italy, are based on rice, wheat, spices and smatterings of all cuts of meat. In just about every other cuisine, protein plays second fiddle to grains and vegetables. When meat appears, it does so modestly; it takes up less space on the plate, and more often than not it’s a piece of the animal—tripe or oxtail—that Americans so willingly discard.
Why Cooking Matters by Dan Barber

    Paul Roberts, in his book The End of Food, calls this the “protein paradox”: meat production has outstripped people production. Through advances in breeding and grain feeding, the cost of one pound of meat is cheaper now than at any time in history. And yet that downswing in cost hasn’t led to any kind of meat-eating democracy. If anything, it has enabled—and at this point, even encouraged—a kind of pork chop dictatorship. Not only do we eat too much meat, we also eat too much of the wrong parts. We don’t know where our meat comes from, we don’t know what the animal we’re eating ate, and we sure don’t know how to get behind the stove and take control of what we put in our mouths.

    We ought to start by looking at the great food cultures of the world. The traditional cuisines of Asia and North Africa, not to mention France and Italy, are based on rice, wheat, spices and smatterings of all cuts of meat. In just about every other cuisine, protein plays second fiddle to grains and vegetables. When meat appears, it does so modestly; it takes up less space on the plate, and more often than not it’s a piece of the animal—tripe or oxtail—that Americans so willingly discard.

    Why Cooking Matters by Dan Barber