Post by M KfivethousandPost by M KfivethousandPost by M KfivethousandPost by M KfivethousandPost by M KfivethousandPost by M Kfivethousanda woman i worked with died this summer. Heart attack, she was probably only about 50. not covid
she was a vegetarian who had never heard of miso
based on her diet I would call her a pizzarian
mk5000
I would never die for my beliefs because I might be wrong.
as much as trump yaps about his nobel nominations, so did the chef who he battled with get a nomination
Jose Andres
from wikipedia
Awards and prizes
2003 – Best Chef of the Mid-Atlantic Region, James Beard Foundation[27][28]
2010 – Orden de las Artes y las Letras de España – Order of Arts and Letters, Cabinet of Spain[29]
2010 – Vilcek Prize in Culinary Arts[30]
2011 – Outstanding Chef, James Beard Foundation[31]
2015 – National Humanities Medal, National Endowment for the Humanities (NEH), United States government[32]
2017 – Lifetime Achievement Award, International Association of Culinary Professionals[33]
2018 – James Beard Foundation Award for Humanitarian of the Year[34]
Media honors
2004 – Saveur 100 List, Saveur[28]
2004 – Chef of the Year, Bon Appetit[35]
2009 – Chef of the Year, GQ[36]
2012 – One of the world's 100 most influential people,Time[37]
2016 – Michelin Guide Washington, DC, 2 Michelin stars for minibar by José Andrés[38]
2018 – One of the world's 100 most influential people,Time[39]
Honorary degrees
Andrés received in May 2014, an honorary doctorate degree in public service from George Washington University, and served as the university's commencement speaker at the National Mall the same year.[40]
In May 2018, Andrés received an honorary Doctor of Public Service degree from Tufts University and served as the commencement speaker for the Gerald J. and Dorothy R. Friedman School of Nutrition Science and Policy at Tufts University.[41]
Nominations
In 2015, Andrés was appointed by President Barack Obama as an ambassador for citizenship and naturalization.[42]
In 2018, Andrés was named a Nobel Peace Prize nominee for his humanitarian work.[43]
For a stable genius with enough lawyers to fill a sports stadium, Trump sure does lose a lot of lawsuits.
Oh but one other thing that actually does worry me: scotus
mk5000
Anxiety, it feels way inside of me)
(Every time I smile what I'm doing fine does it show
Cause' I'm really freaking out too scared of letting you go)
I can't eat, I can't sleep, I get anxiety--Blackbear
“As a consequence, it was possible for Mueller to conclude categorically that the Trump campaign maintained an interest in the work of the Russian government throughout the campaign and was eager to use Russian resources to help collect and distribute information damaging to Clinton. (Prior to the Trump Tower meeting Donald Trump, Jr., was offered documents that would “incriminate Hillary and her dealings with Russia and would be very useful to your father. This is obviously very high level and sensitive information but is part of Russia and its government’s support for Mr. Trump.” Trump Jr.’s response was, “If it’s what you say I love it especially later in the summer.”
Excerpt From
Traitor
David Rothkopf
Sure, junior.
So, head on a pike, kind of?
he is such a hypocrite
https://twitter.com/donaldjtrumpjr/status/1225146642527113216?refsrc=email&s=11
Yeah that's my favorite
Why does no one ask the obvious question- then how did you form an opinion about it?
mk5000
Can get in the way of what I feel for you, you, you
Can get in the way of what I feel
I know some people search the world--
To find something like what we have--no one,alicia keys
there's at least some irony that the xtian fundies prayed for rain in
Denver so that Barack couldn't deliver his outdoor stadium speech
but instead God sent the Republicans Hurricane Gustav who messed up their show much more
mk5000
My Article Of Faith) This is my strongly held belief. I'm not here on earth coincidentally or by chance. Rather, I'm here on earth for a divine predetermined purpose or mission i.e. to fulfill my God-given uncommon destiny. Guess what? I cannot and will not fulfill my destiny miserably NO not at all. Instead, I can and will surely fulfill my God-given destiny in a grand style. Oh! Yes, I can and I will do just that even against all odds. That's just my own article of faith. I don't know about yours. -Emeasoba George
I cannot remember why or when I was in Corinth MS but apparently I was
It is clear that vengeful spite is a characteristic shared by Trump, evangelicals and the confederates/
History rhymes
Chapter 1
Corinth
May 1862, Corinth, Mississippi
As far as the foot soldiers were concerned, the other side could have
the damned town. The generals might have gladly given it up too, if
not for the railroad junction. Corinth was pestilential. Even the
Union’s pitiless William Tecumseh Sherman said the place made him feel
“quite unwell.” Sherman’s superior, Henry Halleck, had such a low
opinion of it that when he fell ill with a bowel ailment, he sourly
named it “the evacuation of Corinth.”
.It was wretched ground for a fight, with boggy fields, swarms of
bugs clouding the fetid air, and a chronic shortage of decent drinking
water. A Confederate colonel called it a “sickly, malarial spot, fit
only for alligators and snakes.” It left no better impression on a
Yankee lieutenant from Minnesota, who found the locals “ignorant” and
the women “she vipers” with the figures of “shad bellied bean poles,”
he wrote. As far as he could tell, the chief local produce consisted
of “wood ticks, chiggers, fleas, and n------.”
But men on both sides understood, if reluctantly, that Corinth was one
of the most vital strategic points in the South. It was “the vertebrae
of the Confederacy,” as one rebel official put it. In the middle of
town, two sets of railway tracks crossed each other in a broad X: the
Memphis and Charleston ran -east--west, while the Mobile and Ohio ran
-north--south. The intersection was a working hive: locomotives
screeched and huffed, while men on platforms loaded and offloaded
downy bales of cotton, stacks of lumber, crates, barrels, sacks of
provisions like salt beef, and other vital war materiel. Trains were
the reason for Corinth’s existence: the village was just seven years
old and the streets were still raw dirt. The largest hotel in town,
the Tishomingo Hotel, was a broad -two--story affair with six chimneys
that fronted directly on the tracks of the Memphis and Charleston,
which ran just outside the front porch.
There were 80,000 Confederate troops under General Pierre G. T.
Beauregard jammed into the brick and clapboard town, which normally
housed just 2,800 inhabitants. Corinth was filled with rebel wounded
from Beauregard’s catastrophic encounter in April with U. S. Grant’s
Yankee troops at Shiloh, just a few miles away. The battle, so named
for the log church where Grant’s men had camped, was the worst
bloodbath in the Western Hemisphere to date, with a toll of 20,000 in
two days. “God grant that I may never be the partaker in such scenes
again,” one Confederate survivor wrote. “When released from this I
shall ever be an advocate of peace.”
Corinth was hardly an ideal place to recover. Contagion was inevitable
with such a large army closely confined in pestiferous surroundings,
the comings, goings, spewings, and brawlings of thousands of men,
horses, mules, and oxen trod everything into mud, and their litter and
foul runoff attracted hordes of fleas and mosquitoes. There were not
enough rooms to accommodate the wounded, much less the sick. On the
first floor of the Tishomingo, men lay on blood- and water-soaked
carpets or blankets in the vestibule and hallways. On the second
floor, the -charnel--house vapors caused some of the doctors and
nurses to pass out.
One of the wounded was a rugged -thirty--year--old colonel in the 6th
Mississippi Infantry, and a future governor of the state, named Robert
Lowry. This peacetime lawyer had been raised in Smith County, one
county over from Jones. He had taken wounds in the chest and another
in the arm, as his company lost 310 men out of 425. The performance
had earned his unit the nickname “The Bloody Sixth.”
Those Confederates who survived Shiloh unharmed were as likely to get
sick in Corinth. The rebels were preparing for a state of siege as a
federal army of 120,000 under Union general Halleck encroached on the
outskirts of town. Men labored constantly with shovels in the
sweltering heat, as Beauregard ordered the defenses fortified with
immense earthworks. The men dug until they were thirsty, then drank
foul, swampy water. Diarrhea and dysentery became endemic. Soon, a
quarter of the Southern troops were ill. “The water was bad enough to
kill a dog much less a man,” wrote a Mississippi cavalryman named
William L. Nugent home to his wife.
Beauregard responded to the epidemic by trying to rally men with
rhetoric: “We are about to meet in the shock of battle the invaders of
our soil, the despoilers of our homes, the disturbers of our family
ties,” he wrote in a widely distributed letter. “Face to face, hand to
hand, we are to decide whether we are to be freemen or the vile slaves
of those who are free only in name . . . Let the impending battle
decide our fate, and add one more illustrious page to the history of
our Revolution, one to which our children will point with noble pride,
saying, ‘Our fathers were at the battle of Corinth.’ “
But even as his letter circulated among the soldiers, Beauregard
decided to evacuate the city. At the end of May, Beauregard hastily
decamped his army and its provisions, mostly hunks of heavily salted
meat, for the healthier environs of Tupelo to the west. Beauregard,
too, had gotten sick. Suddenly, he did not feel his presence was
required in such a swampland. He took an unauthorized leave to
recuperate in comfort in Mobile.
With the Confederate withdrawal from Corinth, the Union forces moved
in. They found the place a stinking pit. Abandoned foodstuffs and
other detritus rotted on the roadsides. A soldier with the 81st Ohio,
Joseph K. Nelson, noticed an odd glint in the earth that crunched
under the soles of his boots. When he bent down to examine the dirt,
he found it was literally moving with insects.
”The Johnnies left behind something for us to remember them by,” he
wrote in his diary. “The ground in places was alive with ‘body
guards’-lice-and was much littered in places with large chunks of very
salt beef. The salt sparkled and glistened in it.”
October 1862, Northern Mississippi, on the March
General Earl Van Dorn was a -ringlet--tossing little Mississippian in
search of a big reputation. Profligate with the lives of men and
impossibly conceited, as suggested by his extravagant twists of auburn
hair, Van Dorn openly aspired to “a burning name,” as he put it. He
was continually conceiving of schemes that could win him the flaming
renown he sought, and his latest was typical.
As an Indian summer fell over Mississippi, Van Dorn -about--faced the
Confederate Army of the West and marched it back toward Corinth with
the intention of retaking the town. His plan was a hurriedly drawn,
surprise full frontal assault, and heedless of risk, but that only
made it more infectious to some of his colleagues. He was after “great
objects,” and that justified the “unusual hazard” of the attack,
according to his chief of staff, another overeager Mississippi
cavalier general named Dabney H. Maury.
But Newton Knight, a young sergeant striding in Company F of the 7th
Mississippi Battalion, felt none of the enthusiasm that the
-glory--seeking Van Dorn and Maury tried to summon with such verbal
flourishes. He was neither free nor proud to be a Confederate soldier.
Company F, made up of -sixty--nine men and four officers from Jones
County, had been forcibly mustered into the ailing Confederate army
after Beauregard’s evacuation of Corinth in May. Now, just four months
later, almost half the new men were ill. Fully -two--thirds were
absent or on leave, and six had died. At the last roll call, only
twenty men and two officers had answered present, Knight among them.
Men were sick with yellow fever, dysentery, malaria, and influenza. Or
they were just plain sick and tired of marching around northern
Mississippi as their vainglorious commanders ordered them to and fro
across the sweltering countryside. It was a testament to Knight’s
sheer vigor that he was on his feet.
Newton was a -long--limbed, shaggily handsome -twenty--four-
-year--old accustomed to privation. His wavy black hair curled to his
shoulders and was greased with sweat over a tall forehead. A rampant,
untended mustache and beard fell below his chin into his shirt
buttons. His large, pooling, -blue--gray eyes seemed preternaturally
sighted and were spaced far apart, which led some to accuse him of
eccentricity. He had perpetually sunburned cheekbones and a large jaw
clamped hard and slightly off center.
He was rawboned and muscular from habitual work and a lifelong diet of
sweet potatoes, cornbread, and whatever wild game he brought down with
his shotgun. “Big heavyset man, quick as a cat,” a friend described
him. Men from easier backgrounds found camp life a misery; the beds on
wet ground, the foraging and scrabbling for decent victuals, the
tramping in all weather with never a change of clothes. Not Newton:
hard didn’t bother him.
Newton suffered from a different complaint: he was an unwilling
soldier. In April of 1862, the Confederacy, badly in need of
reinforcements, had passed the first Conscription Act, drafting all
men between the ages of eighteen and -thirty--five. “They just come
around with a squad of soldiers ‘n took you,” Newton remembered. On
May 13, 1862, Newton and -twenty--two of his closest relatives and
friends, young men who hunted together, worshipped together, drank
together, helped build one another’s homes, and even married one
another’s sisters, had reluctantly enrolled in Company F together,
“rather than be conscripted and be put into companies where we didn’t
want to go,” another Jones Countian recalled.
Excerpted from “The State of Jones” by Sally Jenkins and John Stauffer
Copyright © 2009 by Sally Jenkins and John Stauffer. Excerpted by
permission of Doubleday, a division of Random House, Inc. All rights
reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted
without permission in writing from the publisher.