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Hormones and antibiotics can be used in food production in Canada. Read on to learn how they are used and what steps are in place to make sure our food is safe to eat.
In Canada, growth hormones are only approved for use in cows used for beef. They help to produce leaner beef at a lower cost to consumers by helping cows convert the food they eat into muscle more quickly and easily. Hormones also occur naturally in all animals, people and plants. So there is no hormone-free beef. Growth hormones are not used in cows that produce milk. They are also not used poultry and pork production.
Keeping animals healthy is a top priority for farmers and animal veterinarians. Antibiotics are medicines farmers can use (with veterinary supervision) to:
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Health Canada sets maximum levels of hormones and antibiotics that can be left in food. These limits are set at levels far below the amount that could pose a health concern. Test results from the Canadian Food Inspection Agency show that hormone and antibiotic levels are rarely found to be above the recommended levels.
Health Canada highly regulates the use of growth hormones and antibiotics in Canada. To protect human and animal health, and the safety of our food supply, Health Canada:
It's the job of the Canadian Food Inspection Agency to monitor the use of growth hormones and antibiotics. Food produced in Canada and other countries is regularly and randomly tested to check the safety levels of hormones and antibiotics. If the standards are not met, the food can be removed from the food supply.
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More and more, as the site grows in readers, I have found that a certain percentage of people seem to have a problem when I post articles about things they don't like. For example, if I post a story I find somewhere or that was sent to me that speaks negatively about the Xbox 360, I get people calling me a MS hater and a Nintendo fanboy in emails, phone messages, and in the comments of the post itself. The very same day I may post something that sounds negative towards Nintendo and I get the same treatment from people who think I am a Xbox fanboy or something like that.
You get the drift. And its getting old. Most of the time I post links and items based on what readers send me, what I find interesting myself, or something topical. I don't WRITE articles that I find and post. I don't automatically agree or disagree with any of them, and to assume such based simply on a copied headline is short sited the part of the offended reader.
Think I am a Sony hater because when I post Sony articles, they swing negative? Guess what! That is ALL you can find out there right now on Sony! Send me some happy articles and news about the PS3 and watch me fill the blog with it. More than happy to.
Another quick example of this: I posted what I thought was a pretty strange Japanese video from some kids show over there. I got REAMED by various people saying that I was being simple minded in my gawking at strange videos I don't understand, and that they would take that stuff over the crap we make here in America. I ask you this: What is the damned difference between what I did and what you said? Nothing! Same thing, just flipped. So spare me that crap.
In short, this is a small vocal minority on the site, and I knew going into this that as things continued to grow, it would come out of the woodwork, and I would not be able to expect everyone to act in any preconceived way. I am fine with that. But the more this happens, and the more things grow, the less I am able to respond to such things. I try REALLY hard to answer every email I ever get from anyone here, and I work to keep in touch with readers as best I can. But at some point, I will have to pick my battles, and will end up communicating with those who share a similar sense of civility and time value. I am officially no longer answering or addressing faceless complaints or biased yelping from people hiding behind this big series of tubes.
Again, MOST EVERYONE here is fine! No problems. Vocal minorities, are…well… vocal. 🙂 I address this problem for two reasons…its stuff you should know, and its a good way for me to vent.
Have a nice day. 🙂

subset: commoncrawl


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Created 02/21/2018 at 2018:05AM
There is an art, or rather a knack to flying. The knack lies in learning how to throw yourself at the ground and miss. I thought about this Douglas Adams quote as I wondered what the hell I was doing standing on a platform 12 stories up in the middle of the Peten jungle in Guatemala. It so green that it made my eyes hurt and dead center of the rainy season filled, no doubt, with ubiquitous malarial mosquitoes and here in my harness, tethered to a steel cable no bigger than my pinky finger, I was trying to muster up the courage to throw myself towards ground and, hopefully, miss. It seemed like a good idea at the time. Part of me thought that it would be a fun idea to go flying through the jungle canopy, but standing on the platform polling which of my parts wanted to do this, they were conspicuously silent. Nary a peep.
I understand that things fall at 9.8 meters a second and accelerate at 9.8 meters a second or expressed as an equation: v = a * t. Standing there, and taking important height, weight and wind resistance factors into account, I quickly calculated that I'd hit the ground somewhere between "oh shit" and "fuck me in both ears, I can't believe I'm standing here". Anyone? Still, the multitude of parts was silent.
So much for flying like the angels. It's easy for them because they are unburdened by an understanding of Newton's second law of motion. I know I know, I'm stalling.
When I thought up this idea, Steven Newman was my first choice for travel companion. I know a lot of "travel people" and after a few drinks they think they are tough. Steven actually happens to be the genuine article. About 20 years ago he went on a very long walk.
Around the world.
For four years.
Thrown in jail four times and nearly murdered on more than one occasion on his journey, he is either the stupidest person ever or the toughest person ever. I know for a fact that he's quite brilliant so you can rule out the former. He is also lucky. Very lucky. Yep, just the kind of guy you want on an adventure. I have the unique honor of being his brother. Not his biological one, but his real one. The difference? He brings a lot of joy and respect into my life and that is a measure of true family. He was my hero, who became my friend who became my family. Pretty damn cool I'd say and today, years after first meeting, I am in no less awe of his achievement.
Order his book "Worldwalk" when you can. Trust me, you'll be in awe too.
Steven looked at me and said "we came this far, no sense in turning back now!".
Shut up Newman. I'm still stalling.
We arrived the day before into the rain saturated metropolis of Guatemala City in pursuit of our guy adventure. When taking travel writing courses I learned that it's better to use strong verbs than adjectives. The strong verb appropriate for this was "drench". The rain drenched us unceasingly at first and then only slightly more mercifully as the day went on. Arriving in the morning, our bus to Flores didn't leave for another ten hours so we had nothing to do except to explore Zona 1 in Guatemala City. Frankly, for this essay, there's not a lot for me to say about Guatemala City. I have been to the capital numerous times and it doesn't blow a lot of wind up my skirt. It's never been a destination for me other than my association with friends who live here and I've always been on the way to somewhere else. There are two things that stood out during our exploration of Zona 1: no one was smoking cigarettes and every other store we encountered was a shoe store.
Sitting in a restaurant, having our bargain basement priced pollo and papas fritas, we were discouraged by the television news. It didn't take a spanish major to understand that the situation throughout Guatemala was dire. The country was receiving unprecedented rains resulting in numerous landslides everywhere. At least two landslides ended with buses and cars being swept from the road, burying all souls on board. People were homeless and shelters in some places were overflowing. Earlier the massive rains resulted in entire buildings being swallowed by a sinkhole opening up in the relatively impoverished part of Guatemala City.
This is significant because these were not tiny sinkholes. In fact, even calling them sinkholes is a misnomer. Natural sinkholes generally form when heavy, water-saturated soil causes the roof of an underground limestone cavity to collapse, or when water widens a natural fracture in limestone bedrock. There is no limestone directly under the city. Thousands of feet yes, but not immediately adjacent. No, there is something much scarier closer to the surface.
Guatemala, which you may already know, is home to almost 30 volcanoes. Over time, and by that I mean tens of thousands of years, the country has been covered by layers and layers of pumice creating a not so solid crust that's structurally similar to a sponge. Now imagine building cities on top of this surface. Cities that will not only suffer yearly rainy seasons, but cities that will also house millions of people, all using leaky plumbing that also erodes the land. What you end up with are the occasional euphemistically named "piping features" that open up to swallow everything built on top. Holes that are typically hundreds of feet wide and hundreds of feet deep.
Our mission? To traverse from Guatemala City north to the middle of the Peten jungle to Flores by bus and hitch another minivan to Tikal, a journey of about 12 hours.
We came this far, no sense in turning back now. Indeed.
Steven and I made it to Flores and amazingly in pretty good time considering the rains. There were numerous landslides to drive around but we managed to reach Flores and catch a minivan to Tikal in short order.
It was strange returning to Tikal again. My very first visit to Guatemala was to Tikal in 1990 and I immediately fell in love with this little country. I loved it so much that I went back two weeks later to explore Antigua. This was my sixth trip back and I never tire of this place. I don't think I ever will.
It was a different time in Guatemala in 1990. A time of war.
The Guatemala Civil War lasted from 1960 to 1996. 36 bloody years that resulted in 40,000 to 50,000 people being "disappeared" (usually into volcanoes or the ocean) and more than 300,000 just being killed outright. When traveling to this remote outpost there was a real possibility of being robbed and/or murdered by the paramilitaries. Back then, Tikal was not quite as popular among tourists and I spent my entire time climbing all over the ruins with no one or no signs to to tell me what I could or couldn't do. The government had other pescado to fry.
Tikal is massive. There are other contemporary Mayan places like Tulum and Chichen Itza that tend to get the publicity as the places to visit, but for my money Tikal is unbeatable. It's the Maya equivalent of the old city. It's downtown.
Once it was the headquarters of what was the most powerful Mayan empire of the day. It's also the most understood since we know the details of the rulers and the investigation of the place has been extensive. Here some facts to scratch the surface. There are over 3,000 structures here, the vast majority of which have not been excavated. The largest structures are excavated and they are referred to as Temples I through VI. The monumental architecture dates back to the 4th century BC and apogee of this empire is best placed at 200 to 900 AD. The peak population was probably around 90,000 people. So where did they go? Who knows? It's still a mystery.
Whether they starved, died or were taken home by the ancient astronauts, we do know this: the Spanish never conquered them. They were all gone by the end of the 10th century.
We also know this: they were a blood thirsty bunch of folk. You get a real keen awareness of this when noticing the sheer volume of sacrificial altar stones scattered throughout the complex. It made me wonder someday, while unearthing our civilization, if future alien civilizations will see our buildings and bridges and think "Wow! What an advanced people" and then they're going to find the electric chairs and missile silos and think "Wow! What a blood thirsty people". As a species, there are some things you can count on with us.
Regarding the Mayans, human sacrifice was downright mild compared to the Aztecs. Mayans would save the human sacrifices for big events like ill fortune, warfare and consecration of new leaders or temples.
Oh yeah, and they mostly used prisoners from neighboring tribes.
Temple I Temple I
The main attraction is the Great Plaza. On the east and west stand Temple I (Temple of the Great Jaguar. 154 feet tall) and Temple II (Temple of the Mask. 125 feet tall). The North Acropolis developed into a funerary complex for the ruling dynasty. Each new royal burial would add a new temple to the top of the existing one. It is here you will find Temple 33 and in its substructure, a giant mask of Chaac. I had heard from a park ranger years ago that when prisoners were captured they were taken to see Chaac right before their execution. I must admit, looking at it gave me the chills too. It's so damned intimidating.
Unlike 20 years ago, there are now wooden staircases to climb the structures. Staircases that, in the U.S., would immediately be declared hazardous and roped off. Built of untreated wood and maintained maybe once a year, I am reminded of another reason I love Guatemala. You can still die there fairly easily if you try. It's a little terrifying at the time when you're 90 feet in the air halfway up Temple V and climbing dubious 2x4 scaffolding.
There's a lot to climb in Tikal and climb we did. Up all the temples and after a while the superlative adjectives just fail miserably. The Peten jungle is a beautiful place. From the top of Temple IV you can see that it's jungle for as far as the eye can see and if you practice some mindful-awareness of your circumstances, you realize your tiny place on this earth. In that regard, it's humbling, which is probably never a bad thing to be reminded of.
It's also not a bad thing to be reminded that bug repellent can't be slathered on enough especially during the rainy season. Every morning it was always the same routine: wake up and immediately survey the bed. Invariably there were splotches of blood where something feasted on me during the night. Bedbugs? Probably. All the bug repellent in the world didn't seem to help my ankles which is where the buggers tended to bite. Steven however seemed to be immune. More of that Newman luck I suppose.
After a few days in Tikal we traveled back to Flores, the largest city in the Peten region with about 14,000 people. The old part of the city is on an island in the lake, Lake Petén Itzá, that's connected to the mainland by a causeway. It's not a very long minivan ride back to Flores and since our bus to Guatemala City didn't leave until late we decided to go on a boat ride.
The Boat on Lake Peten Itza Lake Peten
The boat ride, like most things in the developing world, was agreeably cheap at around 10.00 for us both. It was good to get out on the water and just smell the lake and relax. The experience was everything I could have wanted in a spur of the moment ride. Confident captain, a weather worn vessel with faded colors to match and a pleasant dusk to enjoy it all. I like being on the water for the same reason I like being on a bicycle, it's just instant zen. I'm not sure how to otherwise explain it.
It was about 6:30am, in the mountains heading back into Guatemala City when I saw that familiar look of horror on Steven's face. We apparently had a close call with a boulder, as if negotiating the maniacal traffic weren't bad enough. The bus driver was apparently in some hurry to get back to the city and would drive at a terrific speed, missing boulders and other vehicles at the last second.
I'm not a generally religious man but trust me on this, if you want to get a close and personal relationship with (INSERT YOUR DEITY HERE), bus rides in Guatemala are a great way to do this. When I first started riding the infamous chicken buses I would nearly gouge holes in the seats from holding onto them so tight. They are not called chicken buses because people bring chickens on board, although that happens from time to time. They are so named because the drivers routinely play pollo with each other on the mountain passes. Most of the time it's safe (?!), but it does result in the occasional fiery bus crash down a mountainside with near certain death for everyone involved.
Here's the easy way to imagine it. Just pack a metal coffee can with small mice, nails, a little bit of gasoline and broken glass. Now set it on fire and slam that against a wall as hard as you possibly can.
Enjoy your bus ride!
Next stop for Steven and I was Antigua. We arrived no worse for wear in Guatemala's third capital (the first two being destroyed), a beautiful place surrounded by three volcanic peaks. The most dominant one is Volcan Agua (12,400 feet) so named because an eruption in 1541 destroyed the original capital with a mudflow. It hasn't been active for quite some time, but looking at it from Antigua, you are aware that it's watching. Always.
The other two volcanoes are no slouches either. Acatenango is the tallest of the three at a little over 13,000 feet and it had its last eruption in 1972. Volcan de Fuego is famous for being constantly active at a low level. It consistently fires off every 15 to 20 minutes with a loud bang. It's also the least imaginatively named of the three (Volcano of Fire).
Me on the street in Antigua Me, in Antigua
Antigua is a tourist dream. Everywhere are cobblestone streets with buildings of Spanish Colonial architecture. At the center of it all is Parque Central (Central Park) at the center of which is a beautiful reconstructed fountain. Also in the park on this day were school kids practicing their English and they set their sights on Steven and I. They peppered us with questions like "What did you eat for breakfast?" and "What do you like best about Guatemala?". They were so enthusiastic at having real Americans to practice on that turning them down was never an option.
Then there was Club Habana. I have two great weaknesses I submit to when in Guatemala: Cuban Cohiba cigars and Cuba Libres made with Ron Zacapa Centenario Rum. We were in Antigua for a couple of days and after walking around, people watching and seeing the sights we ended up at Club Habana smoking, drinking and listening to a Cuban duo perform. It felt like what a 1950s club in Battista's Cuba would've felt like I imagined.
Antigua is a nice place, but it has a much darker side that hits closer to home for me.
I worked for two years as a volunteer IT director for a non profit in Washington DC: the Torture Abolition and Survivors Support Coalition (TASSC). It was there I met and became close friends with Sister Dianna Ortiz. Sister Dianna Ortiz is an Ursuline nun and was at an Antigua convent in 1989 when she was kidnapped by a U.S. trained Guatemalan army captain and taken to the basement of Politécnica, a police training institute near the US Embassy.
It was there that she suffered horrific torture. She was shown a picture of a woman who looked nothing like her and asked if it was her to which she replied no. Each time she answered no she was burned by a cigarette ultimately enduring 110 burns by the time it was over. It was after this that she was repeatedly raped and tortured (details of which I can't bring myself to write).
It wasn't as if Dianna was some sort of radical. She was taken because she was a run of the mill Catholic missionary who was unfortunate enough to be in Guatemala at a time when the military was hell bent on scaring the church. Priests, nuns, and human rights workers were routinely tortured for decades in Guatemala with the sole purpose being nothing more than to terrorize entire trades.
Dianna's torture included having to assist killing another prisoner. She was handed a knife and with a torturer's hands around hers, the knife was plunged into another unfortunate female prisoner at the Politécnica. She endured being placed in a pit of dead and dying people that included other women and children. Her captivity lasted for 24 hours, but during that time she ended up losing all memory of her life up to the abduction. She was only released when the American leader of the torturers, a man named Alejandro, instructed the other torturers that they had made a mistake in taking Dianna. They had the wrong woman (as if there was a "right" woman to torture). They had taken an American nun and people were starting to ask questions.
While working at TASSC, I had the occasion to see Dianna talk about her torture which she managed to do fearlessly and I don't know how she managed. Sometimes, when others were talking about her ordeal, she would just put her head down and cover her ears and it ripped me up to see her in that state. She told me that having to talk about it again only made her re-live the experience. She would say that she felt guilty for years after the abduction because she thought that she was somehow to blame. Her shame was made even deeper by having to endure an abortion because she was impregnated during her multiple rapes. This is how you can hate people you've never met and I hated these people for what they did to her.
She is hands down one of the bravest people I have ever met. Dianna later went back to fight with two lawsuits in Guatemala and one in the United States. Lawsuits with the intent of uncovering U.S. paperwork of her torture. The U.S. government is a major funder of the Guatemalan military and it should come as no surprise that the State Department did what they could to cover up her torture.
Famously, in a 1996 interview on Nightline, Cokie Roberts came out and insisted she was lying even though there was ample evidence of her ordeal. It should come as no surprise that Cokie Roberts' brother Tom Boggs, worked for the law firm of Patton, Boggs and Blow, a law firm that was paid by the Guatemalan military to promote a positive images of the dictatorship and death squads in Guatemala.
My experience with TASSC made me realize that it's true that sometimes fictional characters can be more real than those people with real flesh and blood. People are capable of unspeakable horror and some things I am just never going to understand in a million years no matter how hard I try.
You can see Dianna's story here, at least the first part. You can see the rest of the series at YouTube, but better yet buy her book "The Blindfold's Eyes".
[youtube War on Democracy - An individuals experiance in Guatemala]
Dateline: the market at Santo Tomás Chichicastenango, or as the locals call it, Chichi. This market has been a trading place for hundreds of years, even before the Spanish showed up. There's a little place where I like to stop and eat a traditional breakfast before taking on the shopping. It's scrambled eggs and mozzarella rolled into tortillas and covered by a black bean mole sauce. It is a great meal that I love so much that even now I have it almost every morning minus the tortillas.
Chichi is a large market covering several blocks with narrow walkways and vendors everywhere trying to pull you in to consider their handicrafts. Everywhere you turn something catches your eye. It's a detonation of color with emerald greens, royal blues, cherry reds, and other bright, indescribable colors competing for your eyes. The textiles are famously multicolored and you can buy them incorporated in thousands of different items from jackets and bags to hammocks and purses.
It's dizzying to say the least. It's a dilemma everytime: so many things for sale with so little time and baggage allowance. The haul this time? A couple of masks, a shirt and some small worry dolls. The idea is that you place them under your pillow at night and they take your worries away. I'm not holding my breath, but I like the thought.
Now I'm standing on the platform again. Thinking back to it all, it seems like a dream which I suppose it is. All phenomena is a dream, or the as the bible says when it remarks that "This too shall pass". I hope that Sister Dianna remembers this but it's important for me to remember this too while I am trying to throw myself towards the ground in my quest to miss. There's an Aztec proverb....
We only come to sleep We only come to dream It is not true, it is not true That we come to live on Earth
I am comforted by this as I jump up in the air, throw back my head and fly down the wire into the unknown. Indeed, I have missed.


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At least 18 people, including five children, were killed when warplanes on Saturday struck Syria's northwestern province of Idlib, where a chemical attack had killed scores of people earlier this week.
The airstrikes was carried out on the opposition-held northern town of Khan Sheikhoun, where 87 people were killed in the chemical attack earlier this week, according to the Britain-based Syrian Observatory for Human Rights and the Local Coordination Committees, an activist collective.
According to the Observatory and Ariha Today, an activist group, the airstrike on a rebel-held town in the northern Idlib province killed at least 18 people, including women and children.
It was not immediately clear who carried out the strike.
The chemical attack last week had prompted the U.S. to launch nearly 60 Tomahawk missiles on a Syrian air base early Friday, which killed nine people and marked the first time Washington has directly targeted Syrian government forces since the war began in 2011.
Over 320,000 people have been killed in Syrian conflict that began in March 2011 with demonstrations against President Bashar al-Assad and his government.
Turkey, Saudi Arabia welcome US strikes; Iran, Russia fume
The move was welcomed by the Syrian opposition and its main backers, including Turkey and Saudi Arabia, but harshly condemned by Russia and Iran, who back Assad and said striking his forces would complicate the struggle against extremist groups.
Turkish Foreign Minister Mevlut Cavusoglu said the U.S. strike should be the start of a renewed effort to end the civil war, which has killed an estimated 400,000 people and displaced half of Syria's population.
In Saudi Arabia, the official Saudi Press Agency reported that U.S. President Donald Trump has spoken by telephone with King Salman about the U.S. missile strike on Syria.
The news agency reported that during the Friday phone call, the Saudi monarch congratulated Trump for his "courageous decision."
Saudi Arabia said the missile launch was the right response to "the crimes of this regime to its people in light of the failure of the international community to stop it."
The kingdom is among the most vehement opponents of Assad and supports Sunni rebel groups fighting to oust him. The Sunni rulers of Saudi Arabia are in a power struggle for regional dominance with Iran's Shiite government.
Iran, which has provided crucial military and political support to Assad, meanwhile called for a fact-finding mission to determine what caused the chemical attack in Khan Sheikhoun. State television quoted Iranian President Hassan Rouhani as saying the committee should be impartial and "must not be headed by Americans."
Rouhani said. "Neutral countries should come and assess to make it clear where the chemical weapons came from."
Syria's government has denied carrying out any chemical attack, and Russia's Defense Ministry said the toxic agents were released when a Syrian airstrike hit a rebel chemical weapons arsenal and munitions factory.
British Foreign Secretary Boris Johnson cancelled a planned trip to Russia because of fast-moving events in Syria. Johnson said the situation in Syria has changed "fundamentally" following the chemical attack and the U.S. response.
Johnson condemned Russia's continued defense of Assad "even after the chemical weapons attack on innocent civilians."
He had planned to travel to Russia Monday on a trip intended to start a fresh dialogue with Moscow.
U.S. Secretary of State Rex Tillerson meanwhile plans to meet with G-7 foreign ministers in Europe next week before going on to Moscow. Johnson said Tillerson will be able to give a "clear and coordinated message to the Russians."
Syrians protest in Damascus against US strikes
In Damascus, dozens of Syrian students gathered outside the offices of the United Nations to protest the U.S. missile attack, chanting "Death to America" and "Death to Israel."
University student Ashraf Fadel said he came to denounce "the unjust American aggression against Syria." He added that the United Nations was "created to support America instead of serving the wronged people."
(With AP inputs)


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Ian's is voluntarily recalling specific lot numbers of two products due to contamination risks of the bacterium Listeria monocytogenes. The affected products have been distributed to retailers in Alaska and are sold in the frozen foods section.
The recalled products include 8-ounce boxes of Ian's Wheat Free, Gluten Free Mac and No Cheese with a use-by date of Aug. 26, 2011 and UPC code 7-49512-43670-8. There were 372 packages affected. The other recall is for 8-ounce boxes of Ian's Wheat Free, Gluten Free French Bread Pizza with a use-by date of Aug. 28, 2011 and UPC code 7-49512-91572-2, with 120 packages involved.
Consumers who purchased the above products with the specific use-by dates and UPC codes listed are asked to return the products to the place of purchase. Products that do not contain the specific use-by dates and UPC codes listed above are not affected by the recall. Consumers with questions can contact Ian's at (80) 543-6637.
© 2018. All Rights Reserved. | Contact Us


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The Russian Orthodox priest gunned down in his church last week was buried yesterday in Moscow. There has been an intense amount of media coverage of this crime and most of the speculation, by the media and police authorities, centers on a suspected Islamist killer in light of Fr. Daniel Sysoyev's outspoken and aggressive campaign to promote Orthodox Christianity among Muslims and other … [Read more...]
A 'Controversial' Priest
November 24, 2009 Posted by: 6 Comments


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1. Worth the Wait
2. That Place Where Nothing Matters
3. The Wound of Love
4. The Lion
5. Dignity
6. Oneness
7. Worth the Wait (Alt take 1)
8. Worth the Wait (Alt take 2)
Mark Christopher Brandt: acoustic piano
Shaun Jurek: acoustic bass
Nate Panning: drums
All songs composed and arranged by Mark Christopher Brandt. ©2010 All rights reserved.
Heart of the Lion Publishing Co./BMI. Recorded and mastered at Slipped Disc Audio, Ashland, Virginia.
Released September 22, 2010
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Pros: two heat settings ? 1000 and 1500 watts
Cons: carry handle is underneath
Here in Southern California it finally feels like winter season with the temperatures in the forties and fifties the past week or so. Before that the weather varied from needing a jacket in the morning to windows rolled down in the afternoons. We are also having rainstorms every few days making the outdoors unpredictable.
Back in early October I had called the Gas Company to turn on my heater and learned that the thermostat is not suited for the type of heater in this rental house. The serviceman showed me a technique to touch two metal keys to the bottom of the heater to turn it on. The weather did not require turning on the heater until December, at which time this was not working.
I have been purchasing fans for my home at Rite Aid for several years so figured I could find a small portable heater for my home as well. The manager pointed me to a spot in the back of the store that no one would ever know these were stored. I was so pleased with this find I raved about it to the gal at the pharmacy who also picked one up for $19.99.
This is the best type of product to buy because you can open the box and pull out the item and simply plug it in without needing a battery or complicated directions to peruse. This is a small white heater with fan measuring 9 ? x 7 ? that easily fits on a wooden television table I keep a water rock fountain on. The extra large grill is for maximum output and gets hot rather quickly.
I change diapers frequently, which means washing my hands throughout the day. I was able to cool off my hands when placed in front of the heater in a few moments time. When I woke up prior to my children I plugged in the unit and turned the dial to the highest setting. A half-hour later when they came into the living room the chill was gone from the room and it was comfy for them to get dressed. In fact I prefer the lower setting, especially when I am sitting on the couch midway in the room.
The knob is located at the left hand corner of the base with no actual words on the dial but symbols for off, fan I and II for the heat selections. The power light is on the right corner with the red light on when plugged in and in operation. I unplug the unit when not in use, just to be cautious and do not keep it on when the fake tree is lit up.
The picture on this site is almost what mine is but with only the left knob. When you click on check latest prices it brings you to cornerhardware.com. This website lists the UPC code (48894301049), that happens to be the same one on the bottom of the box my Holmes? Power Heater HFH104 is packaged in.
There is a one-year limited warranty plus the heat safe protection that is tested beyond UL standards. This means Ceramic Control guarantees heater shut-off until user resets the unit. If there is an overheat situation this will turn off on its own. I have not tested this and only use this for brief periods of time and never when not in the room or overnight. I would also not move the unit when it is plugged in and turned on. The coils in the back get red and you can see the red light on in the back.
This should not be used in a bathroom or near combustibles (at least three feet away from curtains), and avoid using with an extension cord. There is a polarized plug and a plastic fitting over the plug that needs to be removed. This is for indoor use only and not to be placed on soft surfaces like a bed or in laundry areas. If you need to reset the heater you need to wait five to ten minutes allowing for cool down and always have it in the off position when unplugged.
I prefer to use online registration for products and this can be done within ten days of purchase at http://www.prodregister.com/holmes. The Gas Company came out again the other day and now we have our heater to use as well as the Holmes? Power Heater HFH104. This is a very lightweight unit that has the reset directions on the side for easy access. I did find the name of the product on the box confusing with the owners guide. This is listed as 1500 Watt Portable Power Heater. Yes it is portable because it can be picked up and carried to another room, but the box mentions a carry handle indicating something more than the little hook at the bottom.
I would start off with the lower setting of 1000 watts and then progress if needed to the higher 1500 watt. I even like the fan setting, once the room has warmed up. This is not being used in our bedrooms but the main living room because we prefer to have the ceiling fan and another fan in the bedrooms for sleeping comfort. Although the picture at most places I searched for this product show the two knobs this is the same unit. When I clicked over to https://store.holmesproducts.com/ the photo showing on this first page for heaters is the exact same item I have. Of course once you click on to view the heaters this one is nowhere to be found!
For twenty bucks this helped us through several mornings while waiting on the Gas Company to put our heater back on track. I like using the Holmes? Power Heater HFH104 over the main heater due to the smell of the main one and this being very quiet. Since utilities are included in our rent the options for us can still be explored using one or the other when the house gets cold during the day.


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Themes and Meanings
(Comprehensive Guide to Drama)
One of the clearest themes in Endgame, that of play, branches into two metaphors. To live is to play a game; it is also to play a role. Hamm's first words. "Me—to play," twice echoed later, suggest both. Specifically, the game is chess, "endgame" being the point at which victory for one player or stalemate must occur. As in William Shakespeare's As You Like It (pr. c. 1599-1600), all the world's a stage, but Samuel Beckett has contracted the world into a bare room, with only four players remaining for the final act.
A series of exchanges between Hamm and Clov near the curtain show Hamm as both ham actor and Hamlet. "Let's stop playing!" exclaims Clov; Hamm responds, "Never!" Hamm seems to anticipate Clov's sighting of the boy during his final inspection of the landscape and mutters, "Not an underplot, I trust." Clov, about to leave, says, "This is what we call making an exit." Hamm accepts Clov's defection: "Since that's the way we're playing it . . . let's play it that way," and then continues (in the manner of Hamlet's final "The rest is silence"), "and speak no more about it . . . speak no more." On occasion, Hamm also suggests Prospero and Clov suggests Caliban the sullen but obedient servant. At one point, Hamm quotes Prospero: "Our revels now are ended."
Hamm's final words, however, point to an even more pervasive thematic concern with Christ's crucifixion. Holding his handkerchief, he concludes: "Old stancher! . . . You . . . remain." A number of critics have associated...
(The entire section is 649 words.)


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Letters to the Editor
I just read your PageSat article. We've been waiting for our system for three months. Unfortunately if you dial the main PageSat number you get another number to call, 415-493-9592—which says PageSat is history, gone, no longer in service. (It was a good article anyway.)
It's too bad. I was eagerly waiting for this, since our Newsfeed is very poor. Do you have any other suggestions for an alternate newsfeed? Ed Longstrom email@example.com
Rich Myers, who wrote the article in question, recently sent us e-mail on this very question:
NCIT (aka Pagesat) has ceased operations effective 12/4/96. Norman Gillaspie is starting a new business, PC-Sat, to continue the satellite newsfeed for both current and future customers.
We should have a web page on-line by the time you read this. The location of the web page will be: http://www.pc-sat.com.
Would you please pass on this info to the interested parties?
Thanks in advance for your assistance! Rich Myers firstname.lastname@example.com
First let me say that I enjoy LJ very much and get a lot out of every issue.
I'm considering using Linux in some commercial installations and have held off because of a glaring omission in the networking subsystem. I can find no evidence of Linux support for the NFS lockd and statd network lock managers which are required to guarantee exclusive file access over NFS. Our application support software uses a shared NFS mounted file system and must have this to work. I believe the lack of this capability will impede Linux's acceptance in enterprise computing environments that depend on robust networking support. Other than that, it seems Linux offers the most bang for the buck for Unix computing and networking. Toby L. Kraft firstname.lastname@example.com
I read with interest your editorial ("The Politics of Freedom", Phil Hughes) in the October 1996 Linux Journal, #30, and thanks for webbing Richard M. Stallman's letter for background. Will you entertain a comment from an outsider?
It's too bad the word "political" has such a bad flavor. Virtually everyone wants to make things better in his community (the polis) and tries to persuade others to cooperate in doing so, i.e., acts politically... the catch, of course, being how to decide what is "better".
I don't use Linux. I make a living writing commercial software for commercial platforms. I have also written, published, and placed in the public domain a few utility programs. I did so for at least three reasons I'm consciously aware of (not necessarily in priority order):
to make useful tools available to others
to share my pleasure in solving a problem elegantly
to show off what a clever bugger I am
At least one of these motivations—the desire to benefit my fellows—RMS also feels. Perhaps he feels the others as well. Nothing wrong with any of 'em.
You suggest RMS "feels that everyone has to believe exactly the same things he does." I read his letter somewhat differently.
First, let's dispose of the myth of "free" software. They ain't no sech animal. Even if you obtain it without exchange of valuta, you must still invest time and skullsweat to use it—both scarce and valuable commodities, perhaps more so than money. So, any system competes with all others for your investment, whether cash changes hands or not.
Perception is reality. If Linux and GNU do not share a name, they are more likely to be perceived as distinct rather than variants of the same thing (one of RMS's points, and I agree). If they are distinct, they compete.
And "free" software already competes with the notion "if it really was valuable, you'd be charging us for it"—as Heinlein pointed out, why do you think they take collection in church? Added competition between Linux and GNU can't help but drain both against the "common enemy", which I think is what he is saying.
I'm sorry to have to disagree with Linus Torvalds, but it does matter what people call Linux, and this is why. Since Adam's day, to name a thing is to have power over it... and to be trapped by its paradigm.
(Insert clever pun about "Paradigms Lost" here. Oh, never mind.) That's my two pfennigs, anyway. Hope you enjoyed it.Davidson email@example.com
Phil Hughes points out RMS asked for and was offered the opportunity to respond, but so far, we've not heard from him.


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Chapter 1 : View from the Sidelines
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Anyway, this story came to me after I was reading through some Harry Potter forums in which the question was posed: who would James and Lily want Harry to be with? The general concensus was that Lily would prefer Hermione (James was a mixture of Ginny and Hermione). Anyway, the line, "Lily Evans Potter did not like being dead," suddenly popped into my head, and voila. A humorous one-shot (yes, you heard, right - a humorous one shot, not an angsty one shot). Anyway, I hope you enjoy this!
Lily Evans Potter did not enjoy being dead.
She conceded that there were few who actually enjoyed this rather depressing phenomenon, but she hated it more than any other dead person in the world.
And that was that.
She had spent the past sixteen years watching over her only son. The whole dying at the tender age of 21 thing had sort of impeded on her "two kids, a white picket fence, and a house with a yard" dream. Not that that had been her actual dream (she had been too driven when she was alive, and that drive certainly hadn't left her just because she no longer had a corporeal body), but the fact remained that when you're dead, dreams are a bit difficult to come by.
And so she had settled on living vicariously, in every sense of the word, through her son, Harry James Potter. Her husband, James, had usually joined her in her daily Harry check-in, but since the arrival of his best mate, Sirius Black, James had been catching up on old times. Truth be told, Lily was a bit relieved that she had been left to her own devices today. She loved her husband dearly, especially now that he wasn't a complete prat, but when his old personality was drudged up…suffice it to say she would rather spend her days knitting than with James, and she had never been that talented with a needle…or yarn for that matter.
Today Lily was a bit (a bit meaning very) upset with her son. While she adored her son, as most mothers did, she couldn't deny that sometimes his obliviousness mixed with the stubborn nature he had inherited from both of his parents led him to act in a very foolish manner. At the moment, Harry was telling one of his best friends, Hermione Granger, that for the past few months he had felt that something was off about his relationship with one Ginevra (called Ginny, apparently) Weasley.
"I know I like her," Lily could hear Harry tell Hermione, "I mean I must, right? I pined for her all of sixth year, and we kissed, and I never felt anything like that in my entire life, and…"
Lily wanted to reach down and slap her son. Of course there was something "off" about his relationship with Ginny. For one thing, and this scared Lily more than anything else, his girlfriend looked exactly like his mother. While Lily was pleased that Harry clearly missed her, she felt sticking his tongue down Lily Version 2.0 was going a bit too far. His life was complicated enough without an Oedipus complex added into the mix.
And here was the lovely Hermione Granger, a sweet, caring, clearly-in-love-with-her-best-horribly-blind-friend young woman, and he was just sitting there rattling off reasons why Ginny must be the greatest woman in the world.
Granted, Lily understood that Harry couldn't discuss a possible impending break up with his other best friend, Ron, given the fact that he was Ginny's older brother, and it wasn't as if Harry had another friend to confide in other than Hermione, but for the love of Merlin could he let up on the whole "Ginny is the prettiest girl in the world" thing? She hadn't raised – or rather pretended to raise – a son who valued a girl due to her looks. And for Merlin's sake, so Hermione wasn't a raving beauty! That girl had a soul, and unlike certain redheaded girlfriends, she didn't go around encouraging Harry to hex people just for the hell of it. Lily hadn't much appreciated when the redhead girl accused Hermione of wishing Harry dead simply because she scolded him for almost killing another student. Such rash, proud, and careless actions had been the reason why Lily originally disliked her husband, and she couldn't imagine her shame if at the next Dead Mothers Society meeting she had to report that her son officially had a history of attacking fellow students for the fun of it.
"Anything wrong, Miss Evans?" rang a clear, male voice.
Lily turned around, startled, and found herself facing her old headmaster. "Professor Dumbledore!" she exclaimed, regaining her ability to breathe. "You surprised me. And it hasn't been Miss Evans for years, Professor."
"Forgive an old man for his bouts of nostalgia," Dumbledore smiled gently. "Now, what is bothering you, Miss Evans?"
Lily sighed. "It's my son, Professor. He…"
"Is blind as a bat?" Dumbledore finished with a raise of an eyebrow.
"Yes!" Lily exclaimed, throwing up her arms. "I'm sure Ginny Weasley is a lovely woman, truthfully I know very little of her as I only observed my son's life, but I wish Harry would hurry up and recognise that his soul mate, for lack of a better and less clichéd term, is sitting right across from him!"
"Ah, well, I've found that all young men and women have trouble appreciating what has been there all along. But I think you have little to fear, Miss Evans."
"It's just so frustrating, Professor. I had such high hopes back in his fifth year when he was unconsciously choosing Hermione over that crying Cho girl. I thought for certain he'd come to his senses after the whole ministry debacle, no offense, Sir," Lily added.
"Oh, none taken, Miss Evans. Debacle it was."
"But then he comes back for his sixth year and suddenly he's chasing after that Ginny Weasley girl like a sick puppy! And above all I really do want Harry to be happy, and if Ginny is the right woman for him, then I'll let it go. But…" Lily bit her lip and sighed. "I'm just so sure that she's not right for him. She's feeding his ego and letting him forget about his past, but he needs someone who will balance out his rash tendencies and will help him cope with the tragedies that have occurred, not help him ignore everything." Lily shook her head. "I only wish there was something I could do."
"Miss Evans, how long have you been up here?" Dumbledore asked, eyes twinkling.
"Well sixteen years, I suppose," Lily answered offhandedly. "Why?"
"We're all allowed to break a rule or two every once in a while," Dumbledore answered vaguely. "I think no one would begrudge you for doing so now. Not that I condone interfering with the lives of the living, but alas, I have no control over your actions, Miss Evans."
Lily's eyes widened as she began to comprehend what the professor was saying. "You mean I should…"
"I mean nothing, Miss Evans," Dumbledore replied as he walked away. "It is all in your hands."
Lily frowned. Dumbledore couldn't mean what she thought he did, could he? Banishing the thought with a shake of her head, she returned to her son.
"Think about it, Hermione," Harry was saying now. "I mean she's great at sports, Quidditch especially, she certainly knows how to have fun, she's got a – how did you describe it before? – spitfire personality, and she's— "
"The carbon copy of you?" Hermione asked with a raise of her eyebrow.
"No she's not!" Harry exclaimed, and then he stopped and thought on this comment for a moment. "Is she?"
"Oh, Harry," Hermione said with a sigh, reaching over to squeeze Harry's hand gently. "Yes, she is. She's a wonderful girl, you know I think highly of her, but…"
"She's the female version of me," Harry finished, realisation dawning on his face. Hermione nodded sympathetically, letting go of his hand and leaning back against the couch. "I just…I mean…she is, isn't she?" Harry asked incredulously. "I've been dating…me. How sick is that?"
"Well I was personally always more disturbed by the fact that she looked so much like your mother," Hermione offered offhandedly. "I suppose the Oedipus myth always gave me quite a fright as a young girl."
"Oh Merlin, she does look like my mother!" Harry cried, quickly becoming overwhelmed.
"Well, save for the eyes, of course," Hermione said quickly, hoping to calm Harry's nerves. She gave a small laugh and then added, "Which is a bit ironic, isn't it, given the fact that you—" Harry's glare cut off Hermione, who quickly suppressed her smile and looked down at her hands. "Er, sorry. I suppose that was going too far."
Harry groaned, burying his face in his hands. "What am I going to do?" came his muffled voice.
"What do you think you should do?" Hermione asked gently.
Harry picked up his head and stared at Hermione. "I know, I know," he answered in reply to Hermione's intense stare. "It's just…"
"Not easy giving up something so comfortable?"
Harry nodded sullenly.
"I'm sure you'll figure it out," Hermione assured him, offering him a comforting smile. She looked down at her watch and screamed. "Oh Merlin, I'm going to be late for Ancient Runes! Oh, Harry, I'm so sorry. We'll talk more on this later, all right? You have free time before dinner, don't you?"
Harry nodded once more as he watched Hermione race through the portrait hole. As he glumly looked around the room, Dumbledore's words repeated in Lily's mind. If he was right…if she could really get away with interfering… But the trouble she could cause, that she could get in… Oh, screw the consequences! She had to do something about her son.
"Why isn't Ginny right for me?" Harry asked no one in particular. "I mean I know why she isn't, but…why?"
Lily leaned down until she was just above her son's head. Placing her hands around her mouth she said in a loud whisper, "Because you don't love her." She prayed that this would work.
Harry frowned as Lily's voice permeated his thoughts, and Lily gave a sigh of relief. Clearly she had succeeded. "But she's perfect. Every guy loves her. Why can't I just love her too and be done with it?"
Lily couldn't help but roll her eyes. It was nice to know that her son was such a romantic. Nevertheless she leaned back down and told him, "Because you're in love with Hermione Granger."
Harry blinked a few times, trying to understand this notion. "I'm…what?" he asked the empty room, wondering why his sub-conscious had decided to reveal this incredibly important piece of information now.
"You're in love with your best friend," Lily repeated, a little urgently. The butterflies were starting to flutter across her stomach. Please let this work. Please.
Harry laughed. "That's just ridiculous. She's Hermione, for Merlin's sake. I mean…she's Hermione!"
Lily sighed. Clearly this would take a little more convincing. "At the end of the day, which girl do you want there by your side?"
Harry considered this question. "Well, Hermione," he admitted. "But that doesn't mean I'm in love with her does it? Just because I'd rather be with her than my girlfriend doesn't mean I have feelings for her."
The words, "Yes it does," was on the tip of Lily's tongue when Harry beat her to it.
"Oh Merlin," he said, eyes suddenly widening in understanding. "I…I'm in love with Hermione Granger! I'm in love with Hermione Granger!" He jumped up and commenced pacing nervously across the common room. "How is this possible?" he yelled up at the ceiling.
Lily could only smile. Sure, her son would spend the next few days examining every little aspect of his relationship with Hermione and wondering if she felt the same way, but at least now he was on the right road, a road that would ensure him happiness…and save his poor mother from suffering a post death coronary.
"How was you day, Lils?" a familiar voice asked. Lily's grin widened as she felt her husband stand behind her and wrap his arms around her.
"Wonderful, actually," Lily replied. "I think I finally straightened out Harry's life."
"You finally convinced him that he should stop with the seeker nonsense and become a chaser?" James asked hopefully.
Lily turned around and gave James a light slap on the arm. "No, I did not, you prat. I made him see what was always right in front of him."
James stared blankly, and Lily sighed. "Never mind," she said in a resigned voice. "What were you up to all afternoon?"
James's face lit up like it was Christmas. "Oh, Lily, it's brilliant! Padfoot and I are planning a huge celebration for when Moony finally gets off his lazy arse and joins us up here."
It was Lily's turn to stare blankly. "I love you, James," she told her husband, "but sometimes, and I mean this in the kindest way, sometimes you make very little sense."
James shrugged. "I suppose it's more of a marauder thing."
"Suppose indeed," Lily agreed, and she turned her attention back to her son, who was still agonising over his newest revelation. She couldn't suppress her smirk.
Yes, Lily Evans Potter hated being dead. But she had to admit, every now and then it had its advantages.
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View from the Sidelines: View from the Sidelines
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