With my deep connection to all foodish things that are far too rich and gooey I'm probably not doing my best to age gracefully, which is what this latest rant is partially about. As for my next annual exam at the M.D. --something tells me my cholesterol levels are going to be a bit too off the charts this time, so I shouldn't worry about being around for the next extinction level event. I've already created it in my kitchen.
But what the heck, I'll share my latest obsession using my Bullet Blender that was supposed to help me juice healthy things. Not three egg yolks and melted butter for a quick and easy hollandaise that will come in handy for your next round of tater tots. Or whatever. I put it on tater tots baked in the oven in cupcake tins and smashed with bacon. Stop rolling your eyes, it was delicious.
3 Egg Yolks (very expensive these days)
1 tsp. lemon juice
1/4 cup butter, melted
Blend eggs and juice, add in butter. Blend again until thick, about 60 seconds in my bullet blender.
Dump on tater tot cheesy bacon bites.
Enjoy.
(Cardiac Unit may be handy)
Latest rant: What makes someone "qualified" to tell other people what the "truth" is?
Let's start with "facts".
Facts help substantiate "truth".
Ask any of five people who just witnessed a car accident or something equally horrific and you're going to get five different versions of "the facts".
The same goes for delightful incidents, although the less heinous of events tend to be a bit more easily shared across the board of "what happened". That's where trauma comes in to sit on the shoulders of emergency medical technicians and first responders on site. I worked with Police and EMT's to help them become less aggressive with their "just the facts, ma'am" approach as well as their own built-up trauma shields as a result of day in, day out witnessing the after effect of terrible things. Those people have it really rough, and they do deserve our respect in spite of the latest trend in fearing many of our authoritative peacekeepers and veterans.
Anyhow, let's bring it in a bit more for the sake of time and the possibility you're going to rush off and make hollandaise sauce.
(Another one of my A.I. images rendered on NightCafe)
There is a bit of yakking on the woo (and some not so woo) sites about this huge red planet called Hercolubus that tends to swing around into our view every so often. It's the thing that supposedly causes the earth to have cataclysmic events. Some say it was the end of the first civilizations such as Mu, Lemuria and then Atlantis. It seems that we've been here for a very long time, although we can't seem to actually remember to record or leave any sort of report that the giant red thing in the sky is what causes us to have a massive rebuild, over and over again.
So, according to the people who have the gall to tell us that the sky is falling, or going to cause us to fall, we need to make less hollandaise sauce and get to repenting, or ascending or whatever the latest round of enlightenment is called. And to that end (no pun intended) I want to ask, "why?" And here's where the rant comes to sit. When I was in elementary school, we used to have these "They're going to drop the nuke" drills. There would be an alarm, and the teacher would stand up and shout, "under your desks!" and 30 children would do the mad scramble and hunker down. We'd sit there holding our knees, peering out at each other, often making faces.
Leave it to me, after watching The Hindenburg, that I decided that it wasn't worth the trouble and continued sitting at my desk doing my word search or whatever the hell we did in school at the age of ten. I do recall thinking that George C. Scott would have been delighted, and since my father knew Anne Bancroft, I was hoping he'd tell her that I was involved in a rebellion. I ended up in the principal's office after I told my teacher that it wouldn't do any good to crawl under our desks if they were going to drop the big one, and that if it was going to happen, we should just go outside to watch before we croaked. Because we were surely going to die, like everyone on the Hindenburg.
Hey, she asked when I said, "Why?"
(picture of my Blu-rayDisc of the movie cover)
In retrospect perhaps this is why I became a trauma recovery specialist, because the uproar I caused in my classroom from kids crying and upset parents has sat with me for a very long time.
But it was true, right? Big Badda Boom. Done.
Ask questions if you intend to get involved in the truth business, because your life isn't a press conference. If your questions are met with refusal or that mitigating gaze of "if you have to ask why, then you're not at our level of expertise", move on. Get out from under the desk of delusion. It's worth the walk to the principal's office. When people share their version of "The Truth" though, it's important to do a little research on what qualifies them as the fact keepers, because media is a greedy business. Living is a greedy business, and it can be difficult to make up our individual minds for personal truth. Someone, somewhere, is going to come along and challenge what you "think" is true. Like the comment I just read on twitter about the giant coronal mass ejection on the sun, "The sun has nothing to do with our climate, SUVs on the other hand, do."
Yeah. That.
For me, though, in regard to this massive planet swinging through space I've come across more nonsense than I knew could possibly exist from religious fanaticism to NASA scientists. Is there, or is there NOT a huge planet orbiting our solar system that will rock our boat? The pieces are coming together for me in a way that would point to a "yes", however I'm still skeptical, because of the lack of experts willing to step up who aren't part of some major cultivation or ... cult. I'm still looking for answers. I'll keep you posted in between recipes and heart monitoring.
Thank you for reading, please share your thoughts because I love comments and then take a minute to look at the community of #Silverbloggers and join us if you think you qualify. (If you think you qualify, you probably do!)
