Posts Tagged ‘cars’

hugs

Most of them you never see, or notice. Yet everywhere you go, quiet acts of kindness surround you.

Every day, good people live their lives with strength, with purpose, with compassion and integrity. Every day, the whole world is lifted by people who are happy to have the opportunity to make a difference.

Usually, those who boast about it or make grand promises are not the ones who are actually advancing life’s goodness. It’s the quiet, sincere kindness, from folks who have no interest in taking credit, that gives each day its special shine.

It’s hard to remember sometimes, with the relentless miserableness of the news, but the world is actually filled with good, caring people who never find themselves in the headlines and who never care to, either.

The magnitude of their cumulative kindness each day is too large and far too widespread to ever be calculated. It is the perfect tonic to those who are toxic in our life – people who should know better but are nevertheless happy to offload their personal stresses onto us, to be angry, unreasonable, venial or just plain bad.

Life is good today because so many people choose to see it as good. And in every small moment, each in his or her own way, they humbly give life to the goodness.

Quiet acts of kindness surround you, even now. So feel the goodness and quietly pass it on.

A word. A gentle gesture. A task done for someone who can’t manage it themselves. A little encouragement. Or just some simple unforced friendliness.

Feelgood psycho-babble? Nope. This isn’t just “fluffy stuff”. Living in a close-knit community and having good neighbours could have hidden health benefits and may even reduce people’s risk of suffering a heart attack, new research has claimed.

getting onResearchers in the USA said that the social support and reduction in stress levels afforded by getting on well with the people in your community could be of benefit, particularly for elderly people more likely to suffer a health crisis.

Thy found, based on a four-year study of more than 5,000 Americans over 50, that people who said they trusted and liked their neighbours, felt part of the community, and expected their neighbours would help them in a difficulty, were less likely to go on to have a heart attack.

Levels of social cohesion were rated one to seven based on people’s responses. Each one point on the scale represented a 17 per cent lower risk of heart attack, the researchers from the University of Michigan said.

Well, yesterday Mrs Wellthisiswhatithink and I were at the races in the afternoon. We were having a wonderful day – our mare Khutulun won with a huge surge at the end of her race and a great time was had by all.

photo finish

But it was somewhat spoiled by the fact that all the way to the racecourse, about an hour and a half, the car had been busily flashing warning lights at us (and plenty of things that go ping were ping-ping-pinging for all they were worth) and after Khutulun had duly saluted (at 14-1 no less, thank you very much) we called the Roadside Assist guy.

He picked us up from the back of the grandstand, which was very nice of him, as by then there was the mother of all thunderstorms breaking over our head, and to find us he had to weave his way through thousands of pie-eyed drunken revellers and then take us from the track to our car which was miles away in the car park. He didn’t have to say yes to doing that, he just did. And he was chirpy, and cheery, and made us feel better because of his relentless enthusiasm.

He duly got us going, chatting cheerfully all the time dispensing little jokes and bits of folk wisdom, although the car did play up all the way home and finally conked out altogether about three streets from our house, but that’s another story.

What really struck me apart from Mr Happy Car Fixer was the little guy in his 60s sitting in his car waiting for the traffic to clear leaving the course, who got chatting to us as we piled out of the mechanic’s van – that’s when we eventually made it back to our car after narrowly avoiding running down half a dozen young ladies who obviously thought that drinking four bottles of cheap champagne in the hospitality tent somehow makes you invulnerable if hit by a truck.

He was an immigrant from somewhere or other – I am guessing Serbia or Croatia or somewhere like that from his thick accent – and as soon as he worked out we were in a fix he said “Well, I can take you to Melbourne, no problem.” He just smiled an encouraging cracked-tooth, unshaven smile and said it, as if it was the most natural thing in the world to drive someone you’ve met 30 seconds before 125 kilometres down the freeway.

We didn’t need his help in the end, but what a generous thing to say? Fair bucked us up.

As we limped cautiously out of the car park a cheerfully sloshed guy making his way through the puddles back to town called out to us “Any chance of a lift?” and Mrs Wellthisiswhatithink, entirely unsure that the car would keep going for a hundred yards let alone an hour and a half answered “No, sorry.” and I felt a little guilty after the kindness that had been shown to us.

But we had been told in no uncertain terms not to stop if we wanted to get home, so we spluttered and lurched onwards.

Sorry mate. Hit us up again next time. Just let me get the car fixed first. Which I have no doubt will cost every penny we won on Khutulun.

Funny old life. And often, a kind one.

Welcome to Hell.

Welcome to Hell.

Beware a man seeking some peace and time to think.

We have recently completed some renovations at home, Dear Reader, and we now have yet more electrical devices that helpfully go Ding when they want to let us know they’ve done their bit, don’t know how to do their bit, or maybe they’re just feeling lonely because we haven’t sworn at them recently.

We have a toaster. It goes ding. Because two pieces of toast soaring into the air and landing in the dog’s bowl isn’t enough of a clue that it’s done its job successfully.

We have a cooktop. Electric. Swanky looking. It goes peep whenever you press a button. Take a ring all the way up from one to nine and that’s nine peeps. Leave a tea towel within a hundred yards of it’s blinking red diode controls and it peeps. It probably peeps on the hour just to share the existential horror of its owners at the passing of the day, but we haven’t caught it doing that yet.

We have a new oven. It peeps when it gets cold. It peeps when it gets hot. It peeps all the bloody time. It probably peeps hello as you come through the front door. It also has a bell as well as a peep, for when one has inadvertently turned a timer on because one cannot master the buttons. Given time, we will write a multi-instrument symphony for the oven alone.

We have a dishwasher. Leave the door open. Peep. Finish a wash cycle. Peep peep. A celebratory extra peep for shiny, dry dishes.

fridge_angryIt lives in the kitchen with the fridge. That doesn’t peep, beep or ding. It bongs. When left open. Weird noise. Booo-ONG. Still, it’s Korean.

It has a little door on the front of it to let you get to the milk faster because it’s just too damn exhausting and time consuming to open, like, the whole fridge door. The little door has to be closed with the precision used to manufacture nuclear centrifuges because leave that open and a sepulchral bong sounds not once, but twice.

If you forget to switch your immaculate new iPhone to airplane mode on retiring you can pretty much guarantee that’s the night, as you lie there desperate for sleep, collapsed with sheer exhaustion, that you are awoken by a new Facebook friend you haven’t spoken to in real life in thirty years messaging you to tell you that he’s getting divorced over that little dalliance with a waitress and could he come stay for a bit. PING!

Do you think he’s ruined his life or is it a fresh start? PING!

Will the kids get over it? PING!

Should he be worried that he’s on his fourth scotch for the night? PING, PING, PING!

Ping-is-an-app-that-keeps-you-notified-about-the-things-youre-interested-in.(Frighteningly, there’s even a popular iPhone app called, appropriately, Ping!, to send you random “humorous” or “useful” messages during the day. You’d have to really be Johnny No Friends to want that. Sad but true.)

A text message comes in. Buzz, Ding! (Yes, both.) Don’t forget the breakfast meeting at 6.30 am with the client. Except it’s now 4.30 am and you’ve been awake all night after being woken up by the suicidal Facebook friend.

We have a habit of getting in the car and starting the engine and then putting the seatbelt on. This upsets the car, which sings out a warning signal of not one, not two, but FIVE beeps.

Any messages the engine wants to send us – Windscreen washer bottle is empty – really? – we wouldn’t have noticed when we pressed the windscreen washer button and no water came out? – are accompanied by a beep.

As the sensors in the engine are so precise that they measure the coolant fluid dropping by as much as one one thousandth of a millimetre from full-to-overflowing – the only state it will accept for all oils and fluids – there are at least three beeps every time we start the engine, to go with the five reminding us to put our belt on.

While driving, the engine will sometimes send other messages – BEEP! – so randomly as to nearly cause us to drive off the road in shock, Mozart’s Requiem rudely interrupted to let us know that the boot isn’t so much open as just bored.

They’re building a home behind us. They start on site at 7am. The man on the little digger machine thingy who is digging drainage ditches has a device that makes his thing go beep beep beep (at a horribly screechy, high pitch designed to terrify dogs and cause them pain) when he’s reversing. Which we can just about see the common sense of, except he’s on the site on his own. So the only people he’s warning of his sudden backwards lurch are hundreds of yards away.

And they’re trying to get a lie in, after cancelling the breakfast meeting.

You know what cracks us up? The things that go ping in hospitals, on big imposing pingy machines next to very sick people. Ping, every time your heart beats. Ping if your blood pressure goes up. Or down. Or you wink, or move. You know how they reckon people in comas can hear you talking to them? Can you imagine days, weeks, months or worse lying immobile next to a machine that goes ping? Oh, the humanity of it.

Ding, beep, ping, pong, dong, bongy devices: you’re right. That is a shotgun in our backpack.

We are not even pretending to be rational. You have been warned.

In our career in the advertising business, we have spent a lot of time drooling over – prior to writing about – cars.

Car head. Car nut. Car freak. They all apply.

This work included the re-launch in Australia of the Porsche 911, which included some of the most beautiful cars imaginable.

1993 3.3 litre Porsche 911 Turbo S

1993 3.3 litre Porsche 911 Turbo S

I well remember being given one for the weekend to drive around so I could “get my head” into the brand, in preparation for the writing. In traffic approaching the freeway junction I could not help but notice the admiring glances of all around me. But by thirty seconds onto the freeway itself I knew all I needed to know, and, in fact, turned back and returned the car to the dealership. By the first flyover I was doing well over 160 kmh and hadn’t even noticed the car accelerating. Had I kept the car all weekend, I am in little doubt I would have killed myself and others.

Another personal favourite of mine of ours was when we were doing all the writing for Holden Special Vehicles (exported as Vauxhauls to the UK and Chevrolet’s to other parts of the worldf In particular, I admired the two-door HSV Coupe which revolutionised the market with its good looks as well as its performance.

2009 Holden Special Vehicles Coupe

2009 Holden Special Vehicles Coupe

During this time we coined the new slogan for HSV – “I just want one” – which we are pleased and proud to say is now one of the longest-running car slogans anywhere in the world. And it still perfectly captures the quirk nature of HSV buyers.

Anyhow, we have compiled a collection of some of the most beautiful cars that have ever been produced. We would love you to contribute your favourite, with a photo. Please click on the comments section and add in a photo, why you love the car, or a url link to a picture of it. Have fun!

Here’s our faves:

1939 BMW 328 Roadster

1939 BMW 328 Roadster, surely the most beautiful BMW ever.

1948 Jaguar XK120

The 1948 Jaguar XK120 – the owner of Jaguar said “We have created a car which is alive.”

1954 Mercedes Benz 300 SL

1954 Mercedes Benz 300 SL …

... with it's gull-win doors.

… with it’s gull-wing doors.

1958 Chevrolet Bel Air Impala Convertible - created just one year after we were born, but sadly cars didn't look like this when we were able to drive.

1958 Chevrolet Bel Air Impala Convertible – created just one year after we were born, but sadly cars didn’t look like this when we were able to drive.

Ferrari have made many beautiful cars - this 1961 250 GT California is one of our favourites, and as an interesting tit-bit, the first Ferarri ever to not have wire wheels.

Ferrari have made many beautiful cars – this 1961 250 GT California is one of our favourites.

The 2008 Alfa Romeo 8C Competizione. Frankly, it's a sexual thing.

The 2008 Alfa Romeo 8C Competizione. Frankly, it’s a sexual thing.

The Bugatti Type 57 - only three were ever made.

The Bugatti Type 57 – only three were ever made.

Quintessential Britain - the 1954 MG TF. Want.

Quintessential Britain – the 1954 MG TF. Want.

The 1930 Pierce-Arrow Model B Dual Windshield Phaeton - - just one of dozens of such cars from the period that we could have chosen.

The 1930 Pierce-Arrow Model B Dual Windshield Phaeton: just one of dozens of such cars from the period that we could have chosen.

So those are our favourites? What’s yours? Modern, antique, and everything in between.

Oh Lord. Mustn’t forget Mum’s trusty 1963 Triumph Herald that took us everywhere till it actually literally fell apart from rust. She’d never forgive us.

The smallest turning circle of any production car ever. There. you didn't know that, did you?

The smallest turning circle of any production car ever. There. you didn’t know that, did you?

Morgan, car manufacturing

The Morgan. Apparently we can’t make cars like this in Australia.

So it’s been a rough couple of years for the car industry in Australia.

A while back we lost Mitsubishi. Then we lost Ford.

Then a couple of months ago, General-Motors Holden.

And yesterday, Toyota.

Jobs to be lost (including the components market) are in the region of 50,000 – 100,000, depending on whose estimate you believe. Invisible effect on that on banks, local services, whitegoods, retailers, and the public purse? Impossible to calculate, but huge.

And this is in the most successful capitalist economy in the world, right now.

The Tesla. Apparently we can't make cars like this in Australia.

The Tesla. Apparently we can’t make cars like this in Australia.

The blame game is well underway, of course. Books have been and will be written on the consummate failure of successive Governments and the business community to grapple with the endemic problems of the local industry – a small local market, for one, and competing with lower wage cost economies for another, or operations in countries where the taxpayer support is even more generous than it has already been in Australia.

But as someone who has been intimately involved in marketing cars in Australia for 25 years, the real culprit is obvious to those who have had anything to do with the industry.

It is in the consistent lack of imagination and courage in the upper levels of management of the companies concerned, and the marketing management specifically.

First: by persisting in chasing lower price tickets rather than higher value, year after year, ignoring the fact that better value, better looking, and better performing cars did and do command a premium. Second: by persisting in producing four door V6 and V8 sedans when the market was crying out for innovation in small cars, two seaters, and SUVs. And third: by forgetting, constantly, the cardinal rule of all car advertising – consumers buy models, not ranges.

Because let us be clear: the new car sales market in Australia is actually doing rather well. We’re just buying far too many imported cars, and not enough local ones. And the reason is simple.

They’re better cars, that answer local desires more closely.

Let’s just have a look at the lost companies. One thing links them all. They’re all overseas firms, for whom Australia is a tiny little market on the outer edge of the known universe. We haven’t actually had an “Australian” car industry in, like, ever.

But now, ironically, amidst all the doom and gloom, we have a chance to build one.

All over the world, small, fast-reacting car companies are producing exciting, stylish, innovative vehicles in small numbers, and selling them to a market that is hungry for new ideas, new features, and for the sheer joy of a great new car.

There are only three major American car manufacturers in the USA now, for example. Chrysler, Ford and GM. There are also, however, more than 30 small, independent car manufacturers (or engine/drivetrain manufacturers) catering to niche markets, often high-end, high-profit, and low overall numbers produced, or utilising new electric technologies. Of these the best-known in Australia is probably Tesla.

In the UK, Morgan produce 640 hand-made sports roadsters cars a year from their Malvern factory. The waiting list varies between one and two years.

Even the Czech Republic has Tatra, a commerical truck and off-road builder. That’s on a population half the size of Australia’s.

I could go on listing, but I’ve made my point.

So this is my challenge to every banker in Australia, every car guy, every entrepreneur, every politician, and every journo.

Vast amounts of productive capacity, and vast amounts of human potential, are about to be wantonly be flung on the scrap heap.

Is it really beyond the wit and wisdom of our entire country to pick up the soon-to-be dismantled manufacturing equipment and spaces for a song (because we sure as hell don’t owe their previous owner’s anything), and the best and brightest of the existing workforce, and start creating a uniquely Australian car that meets our needs, and most of all our desires, perfectly – at a price that middle Australia can afford – and to sell it as not just a patriotic emblem, but also a “must have” product that people will love?

When you rich and powerful people get your shit together, I know an ad agency that would like to be involved.

I can’t believe this is beyond us. I don’t want to believe that. I refuse to believe it. And that’s a start.

If you agree, please reproduce this article on your Facebook page, Twitter, Reddit, send it to your local paper, print it out and give it to you bank manager, MP, whoever you like.

But join the call. Because we can do this, if we try.

I am indebted to the food section of Yahoo for raising this topic, which is fascinating.

If only because forewarned is forearmed. On the basis of this news, the Wellthisiswhatithink clan is going to start hoarding tins of Stag Chilli and Fray Bentos meat pies forthwith. If our home is suddenly subsumed by some nearby Pompeii-like eruption future archaeologists will surmise the modern Australian diet considered of nothing else. Well, and coffee, of course.

The domesticated cow is going to fart itself to oblivion if it's not careful.

The domesticated cow is going to fart itself to oblivion if it’s not careful.

For all sorts of very good reasons, you see, Dear Reader, meat is going to play a lesser part in our diet moving forward. For one thing, all sorts of domesticated animals, and especially cows, burp and fart a lot.

And we mean, a lot*.

Methane, primarily. From their gut.

As one of the most potent greenhouse gases there is, if we could rid the world of farting cows we could all afford to drive gas guzzling SUVs back and forth to the shops till the, er, well, till the cows come home, and the world wouldn’t be affected much at all.

(One of the great myths of global climate change is that cars are strongly implicated – they aren’t, really, as engines become ever more efficient, and hybrid technology grows. Other factors are much more serious. Cars are just “in our face”: an easy target.)

Plus it takes an awful lot of grass – and water – and time and effort (and more greenhouse gases) – to “grow” meat protein compared to, say, veggies.

And our environment also suffers from the deleterious effect of cloven-hoofed animals wandering pristine grasslands digging up the surface soil so it can blow away to end up in the sea.

All in all, we can expect to see the price of beef and lamb/mutton especially climb to exorbitant levels. It will become an occasional luxury, and an environmentally unsustainable one at that.

Insects will probably play a much more central role in our diet ... like these dung beetles.

Insects will probably play a much more central role in our diet … like these dung beetles. Just don’t think too hard about what they eat.

OK, meat’s out. What next?

So what can we change our diet to? All sorts of yummy items. Not.

Insects are already a common source of protein in some parts of the world less wealthy, and less squeamish, than the West.

With the world’s population predicted to hit 9 billion by 2050, our diet will have to change as food production struggles to keep pace with the boom.

And there are lots of good reasons why we should consider ordering a dung beetle burger next time we’re at the pub.

Not only would insect farming be kinder on the environment than our current agricultural industry with its focus on factory farming large animals such as cattle and sheep (just think of all the methane produced as a side effect of our love affair with beef), insects are surprisingly nutritious too.

According to a BBC report, 100g of ground dung beetle contains 17.2g of protein, 30.9mg of calcium and 7.7mg of iron. A 100g serving of minced beef provided 27.4g of protein, 3.5mg of iron and negligible amounts of calcium.

Deep fried grasshoppers. Well, er. OK. If I must.

Deep fried grasshoppers. Well, er. OK. If I must.

Now we just need someone to tell us they taste just like chicken, and we’re in.

Visiting China (amongst other places) one often sees skewers of deep fried grasshoppers on offer from street stalls, along with a lot of other little beasties that one can’t even identify without a biology manual.

Indeed, over 1000 species of insects are eaten by people around the world, like these Thai deep-fried grasshoppers.

Artificial meat?

Of course, we might not be able to give up our addiction to flipping hamburgers on the BBQ and scientists may have one answer. Artificial meat grown from stem cells could solve the problems caused by the huge amount of water and energy required in traditional animal production.

But while scientists are in theory able to create a lab-grown burger that looks like the real deal, taste is another matter.

The taste of meat is created by blood and fat, and is difficult to recreate in an artificial setting. Not to mention, presumably, the mouth-soothing sensation of fat, which is one of the most obvious reasons that we all love eating marbled meat, ice cream, buttered bread and so forth.

Then again, watching the way clever chefs can use other ingredients to mimic the flavour they are searching for, one supposes that anything’s possible.

There is, presumably, a chemical formula for every type of taste sensation, so if we want to keep chowing down on beef we may have to accept that it means munching bowls of noxious chemicals too.

Don't look in their eyes. Just don't look in their eyes.

Don’t look in their eyes. Just don’t look in their eyes. Awwwwww.

“Here Skippy, here boy …”

Well, in Australia, at least one very obvious opportunity presents itself.

Kangaroo meat is lean (2 per cent fat) and protein-rich, and its harvesting is more sustainable than beef and lamb, requiring less water and emitting far less methane than introduced breeds of livestock.

Selling kangaroo meat for human consumption is a relatively new development in Australia, having only been legalised in 1993.

Yet kangaroo meat is already now exported to 55 countries around the world, and has even given rise to a new diet dubbed ‘kangatarianism’ – an otherwise meat-free diet that permits consumption of kangaroo due to its eco-friendly status.

It’s sometimes hard to explain to non-Australians just how sensible a switch to roo meat would be.

For one thing, they are incredibly common, without any farming whatsoever. No one is quite sure how many roos are out there – it’s a big country, guys, and mainly un-populated – but the 2002 population estimate for the commercially harvested kangaroo species released by the federal government puts their numbers at 58.6 million. This means there are more than twice as many kangaroos in Australia as there are cattle (28.7 million). It also means the total kangaroo population is a little more than half that of the Australian sheep population (113.3 million).

That’s one helluva lot of roo stew waiting to be made. And if you think they’re just too cute to eat, then have you looked in the big brown eye of a calf recently?

Personally, I think we should be exporting breeding pairs of roos all over the world and you can all grown your own. And before you ask, darker than beef, quite a strong gamey flavour which puts some people off, the tail is the part most usually eaten, and in sausages, pates, terrines and pies, where is it “cut” with cereals and other items that reduce the gamey-ness of its flesh, it is truly delicious. “Kanga bangers” (that’s link sausages to our America readers) do really well here; kids love ’em.

Repeat after me: "I love Brussel sprouts. I do. I love Brussel sprouts."

Repeat after me: “I love Brussel sprouts. I do. I love Brussel sprouts.” Hey, this is what they look like growing? Who knew?

Plants scream too, you know

If you don’t want beetles, grasshoppers or kangaroos for tea, then the obvious answer: grow your dreadlocks and slap on the sandals. Let’s all become vegetarians.

Not only are veggies less environmentally harmful to grow (although pesticides and fertilisers need to be used with considerably more regard to the overall safety of the biosphere, with an acceptance of lower yields as a result) but we could all do with learning a lot more about how they can be prepared and presented to be truly delicious.

On the principle that human beings rarely do anything until push comes to shove, maybe rump steak at $200 a pound might be the incentive we need to learn how to make eggplant parmigiana properly.

Because the incentive is obvious. At least one 2012 study, from Sweden, argued that a global water shortage could mean that by 2050 animal production for food, which uses five to 10 times more water than plant-based food farming, could become a distant memory.

And while we are learning to love the lettuce, let’s remember that the plant kingdom offers many opportunities that, as a planet, we don’t make the best of.

How do you like your algae, Sir, braised or baked?

How do you like your algae, Sir, braised or baked?

I am referring, of course, to the harvest of the oceans.

We’ve pretty much eaten all the fish – surely a complete ban on commercial fishing for three years to return stocks to sustainable levels could unite the world? I would gladly pay more taxes to support the fishermen if it meant I could still enjoy a feed of flathead or Atlantic cod before I die – but fish are just the beginning of what’s on offer in the deep blue yonder.

One of the most useful products to come out of the seas are some of the most basic lifeforms yet discovered.

Algae: simple, single-cell organisms, can be cultivated in areas unsuitable for conventional farming, such deserts and the ocean. Algae also offers a cleaner source of energy than plant-derived ethanol, and can be used to feed animals and as a fertiliser for crops.

And if algae doesn’t float your boat (sorry about the dreadful pun, Ed.)then as some societies have known for years common-or-garden seaweed is totally yummy, prepared in all sorts of different ways.

Already a regular on Japanese plates, it is eco-friendly, great for digestive health and is packed full of nutrients, including calcium, iodine, folate and magnesium. (In fact, the current Western craze for sushi is leading to one unexpected problem – a few people are getting iodine overload from eating too many sushi rolls while wandering shopping malls. The best advice is apparently the most obvious – moderation in everything.)

Everything worthwhile in life is free.

Everything worthwhile in life is free.

Deep in the last millennium, I had a mother-in-law who would love to wander the seashore, grabbing scraps of seaweed off the rocks and munching it happily, reminiscent of her childhood in Ireland. “Dillisk”, as she was brought up to call it, is a reddish seaweed from the Atlantic coast of Ireland, collected at full moon, when the tide was lowest, and dried on huge sheets in the garden.

As Wikipedia kindly reveals: Palmaria palmata (Linnaeus) Kuntze, also called dulse, dillisk, dilsk, red dulse, sea lettuce flakes or creathnach, is a red alga (Rhodophyta) previously referred to as Rhodymenia palmata (Linnaeus) Greville. It grows on the northern coasts of both the Atlantic and Pacific oceans and is a well-known snack food. In Iceland, where it is known as söl, it has been an important source of fiber throughout the centuries.

is a good source of minerals and vitamins compared with other vegetables, contains all trace elements needed by humans, and has a high protein content.

It is commonly found from June to September and can be picked by hand when the tide is out. When picked, small snails, shell pieces and other small particles can be washed or shaken off and the plant then spread to dry. Some gatherers may turn it once and roll it into large bales to be packaged later. It is also used as fodder for animals in some countries.

It is commonly used in Ireland, Iceland, Atlantic Canada and the Northeast United States both as food and medicine. It can be found in many health food stores or fish markets and can be ordered directly from local distributors. In Ballycastle, Northern Ireland, it is traditionally sold at the Ould Lammas Fair. It is particularly popular along the Causeway Coast. Although a fast-dying tradition in today’s McDonald’s-ridden world,there are many who still gather their own dulse. Along the Ulster coastline from County Antrim to County Donegal, it is eaten dried and uncooked in a manner similar to that in which one would eat snacks at a drinks party. It is also used in cooking. (Its properties are similar to those of a flavour-enhancer). It is commonly referred to as dillisk on the west coast of Ireland. Dillisk is usually dried and sold as a snack food from stalls in seaside towns by periwinkle-sellers.

Fresh dulse can be eaten directly off the rocks before sun-drying. Sun-dried dulse is eaten as is or is ground to flakes or a powder. In Iceland the tradition is to eat it with butter. It can also be pan fried quickly into chips, baked in the oven covered with cheese, with salsa, or simply microwaved briefly. It can also be used in soups, chowders, sandwiches and salads, or added to bread/pizza dough. Finely diced, it can also be used as a flavour enhancer in meat dishes, such as chili, in place of monosodium glutamate.

The earliest record of this species is of St Columba’s monks harvesting it 1,400 years ago.

Or as my old Mum was wont to say, “plus ça change, plus c’est la même chose”.

Well, she would have said it, if she spoke French.

So now you know. Rib-eye and french fries is doomed. Ah well. We all might live a little longer, perhaps.Or as in the famous old joke, it might just seem that way.

And just remember, everyone. “Soylent Green is people!”**

*Much more than you ever wanted to know about belching and farting animals
Agriculture is responsible for an estimated 14 percent of the world’s greenhouse gases. A significant portion of these emissions come from methane, which, in terms of its contribution to global warming, is 23 times more powerful than carbon dioxide. The U.S. Food and Agriculture Organization says that agricultural methane output could increase by 60 percent by 2030 [Source: Times Online]. The world’s 1.5 billion cows and billions of other grazing animals emit dozens of polluting gases, including lots of methane. Two-thirds of all ammonia comes from cows.Cows emit a massive amount of methane through belching, with a lesser amount through flatulence. Statistics vary regarding how much methane the average dairy cow expels. Some experts say 100 liters to 200 liters a day (or about 26 gallons to about 53 gallons), while others say it’s up to 500 liters (about 132 gallons) a day. In any case, that’s a lot of methane, an amount comparable to the pollution produced by a car in a day.To understand why cows produce methane, it’s important to know a bit more about how they work. Cows, goats, sheep and several other animals belong to a class of animals called ruminants. Ruminants have four stomachs and digest their food in their stomachs instead of in their intestines, as humans do. Ruminants eat food, regurgitate it as cud and eat it again. The stomachs are filled with bacteria that aid in digestion, but also produce methane.With millions of ruminants in Britain, including 10 million cows, a strong push is underway to curb methane emissions there. Cows contribute 3 percent of Britain’s overall greenhouse gas emissions and 25 to 30 percent of its methane. In New Zealand, where cattle and sheep farming are major industries, 34 percent of greenhouse gases come from livestock. A three-year study, begun in April 2007 by Welsh scientists, is examining if adding garlic to cow feed can reduce their methane production. The study is ongoing, but early results indicate that garlic cuts cow flatulence in half by attacking methane-producing microbes living in cows’ stomachs [Source: BBC News]. The researchers are also looking to see if the addition of garlic affects the quality of the meat or milk produced and even if the animals get bad breath.Another study at the University of Wales, Aberystwyth, is tracking quantities of methane and nitrogen produced by sheep, which provide a good comparison model for cows because they have similar digestive systems, but are less unruly. The sheep in the study are living in plastic tunnels where their methan­e production is monitored across a variety of diets.Many other efforts are underway to reduce ruminant methane production, such as attempting to breed cows that live longer and have better digestive systems. At the University of Hohenheim in Germany, scientists created a pill to trap gas in a cow’s rumen — its first stomach — and convert the methane into glucose. However, the pill requires a strict diet and structured feeding times, something that may not lend itself well to grazing.In 2003, the government of New Zealand proposed a flatulence tax, which was not adopted because of public protest.

With the development of large-scale agriculture in the mid-20th century, farming became a big business for some companies. Farms became consolidated into large enterprises with many thousands of animals across large acreages.

Initially, grazing areas were filled with a variety of grasses and flowers that grew naturally, offering a diverse diet for cows and other ruminants. However, in order to improve the efficiency of feeding livestock, many of these pastures became reseeded with perennial ryegrass. With the aid of artificial fertilizers, perennial ryegrass grows quickly and in huge quantities. The downside is that it lacks the nutritious content of other grasses and prevents more nutritious plants from growing. One commentator called it the “fast food” of grasses.

This simple diet allows many cows to be fed, but it inhibits digestion. A perennial ryegrass diet also results in a significant number of weak and infertile cows, which have to be killed at a young age. This is where the methane comes in. The difficult-to-digest grass ferments in the cows’ stomachs, where it interacts with microbes and produces gas. The exact details of the process are still being studied, and more information may allow scientists to reduce cows’ methane output.

A study at the University of Bristol compared three types of naturally grown pastures to ryegrass pasture grown with chemical fertilizers. Lambs were fed on each type of pasture. The meat from lambs fed on natural pastures had less saturated fat, more omega-3 fatty acids, more vitamin E and higher levels of conjugated linoleic acid (CLA), a “good fat” that is believed to fight cancer. The meat from these lambs was considered very high quality and scored well in flavor tests.

Because of concerns about ruminant diets, many researchers are investigating ways to alter what livestock eat and to mix the best of old cow pastures – diverse, naturally growing, nutrient rich grasses and plants – with the best of the new – fast-growing and resistant to invasive species. One possibility is to increase the ability of beneficial, nutrient-rich plants and flowers to grow alongside the fast-growing grasses commonly used in pastures. Another branch of research focuses on plants that are high in tannins, which are believed to lower methane levels in ruminants and to boost milk production – although excessively high level of tannins are harmful to a ruminant’s growth.

A study by researchers in New Zealand recommends the use of plants like birdsfoot trefoil that are high in alpha-linoleic acid, which boosts CLA levels. Planting legumes and genetically engineered plants to trap airborne nitrogen will also improve nitrogen levels in the soil, which is important for rich soil and healthy plants.

Some dairy farmers use processing systems to harvest methane from cow manure. The energy is used to power the farm while excess is often sold back to the local electrical grid.

Believers in naturally grown, mixed-species pastures say that the use of them will reduce greenhouse gases, improve animal health and meat quality and reduce the use of artificial fertilizers. Efforts like methane-reducing pills or the addition of garlic may just be stopgap measures that fail to address some of the core problems of livestock, namely ground and air pollution, cutting down of forests, the production of weak animals that later have to be culled and the use of artificial fertilizers and steroids.

Another possibility exists in trapping the methane gas and using it as energy or selling it back to the electrical grid. Some farmers already extract methane from livestock waste, but that does not solve the bigger problem of belched methane. Harnessing that methane would mean trapping it in the air, perhaps by housing cattle indoors or outfitting them with special muzzles that may inhibit eating.

(The above information on the digestive system of ruminants was copied from howstuffworks.com)

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