Archives for February 2015

The other day I was talking with Bea about how I wish to blog going forward. I told her that I want most of it to be about what I do, and not what I think…sitting on my ass, pontificating.

Well, there’s the marriage between my anarchist spirit of various activities and deep appreciations right there—because you’re not going to find me blogging about standing in line to get a license to live a life; or, showing my license to drive, to buy a bottle of whiskey in the land of the free. It’s perfect for zoo humans though; for whom, “better safe than sorry” is their chief inspiration.

…It was about 20 years ago—maybe 19—that I began flying hang gliders. First 5 years or so was consuming and ferocious in activity—local flying and trips centered around flying. I’ve flown mountains on the west coast from SoCal (Marshall, San Bernardino) to Washington State (Chelan Butte and the flats to the east), and much in-between (e.g., Hat Creek; Lakeview, OR; Indian Valley at Greenville, CA; Dunlap, CA near King’s Canyon: to name a few). And Ft. Funston south of San Fran, on the cliffs, was a weekly mainstay.

This post is about Big Air though.

It’s an important distinction that makes for hang-glider pilot “launch butt.” It’s that point in time where your body is telling you to just go take a shit rather than fly into all of that scary uncertainty. It’s physiological.

What in the fuck is “big air,” anyway? There’s no precise definition, and many of those places I named can be that, at times. But, there are places where Big Air is BIG Air; meaning, it’s scary most of the time but where mentally overcoming it in the context of smarts and experience has important rewards. People tend to categorize and thus: hang gliding is dangerous and scary. To those who actually do it, there are 50 Shades of Grey and there’s “country club flying” too. There’s also deep red and deep black. …There’s cloud suck—where if it’s black and big enough, it’ll suck you into its caldron of misery and fear and freezing and you could die…though the bright side is that it might take you to 60,000 ft, asphyxiate and freeze you first. There’s that.

…I’m not a particularly skilled pilot, nor vastly experienced. I have somewhere between 100 and 200 total accumulated HG flying hours. Many of those old fucks who pioneered the sport in the ’70s in their late teens and early 20s are way north of 10,000 hours and still flying as often as they can. One problem in the “sport,” in terms of popularizing it—stupidly assuming that’s even possible—is that the average person sees it as a scary ride—like a bungee jump or skydive. They are currently unaware that the world record HG flight is north of 400 miles over 10-12 hours (hundreds @ 200-300 miles). There are many guys who do 100+ mile flights all the time. …Of course, don’t discount The X Games. So hubristic fucktard “rad.”

So for my pathetic self, in contrast to the true SkyGods? I’ve had many flights over 2 hours and a few into the 3-4 hour range. Been above 8,000 ft many times, but the coolest was when I was setting up for a landing in Indian Valley once and the turbulence in mid-afternoon was butt puckering. I decided that if I caught a “whiff,” I’d take it. I did, and I rode the same thermal from 300 ft to about 12,000 (I’m conflating MSL and AGL here, but this is for the layman). By the time I got back to the LZ a coupla hours later, it was a gentle setup, landing, and a cold beer from friends.

[Aside: I know many guys who’ve gotten hypoxic going to 21-22K feet without an O2 bottle and cannula—and some sailplane guys go to 30-60k feet with the O2. But officially? They got to 18,000 feet. Bonus for anyone who tells me why that’s their official story and they’re sticking to it.]

Hang gliding is not an extreme endeavor, but one of passion and longing. It’s an endeavor suited to contemplative, thoughtful, inquisitive people who love other similar people gathered around similar aspirations. A common thread: disgust, detestation and impatience with stupid and fucktard. In that way, it eats its young. If you’re new, you get dispensation to a point but at a point, if you can’t get over your stupid, you get shunned. You’ll make the endeavor look bad when you become a paraplegic or kill yourself, and then the community has to worry about your dependents. It’s a highly social endeavor (fourth time I’m avoided using the word “sport”).

Being competent at strapping tech around and over you and running off a mountain to experience, overcome and conquer the chief envy of humans in all writings forever—the envy of birds—puts you at the very top in terms of transcending those limitations and aspirations upon which doG saw fit to shackle you. You’re a .01 percenter.

Hang gliding makes you a social bird, looking down at landlubbers in figure and form. It’s individual in the air, but social too—pilots showing others where the lift is. But at the campfire at the end of the day, flying stories are fish stories. Plus, you will tell someone how you helped show them lift, and someone will tell you how they showed you lift.

…It also makes you an amateur geologist and meteorologist. Continental drift repercussions, timeless erosion, and the Sun in its billions of years of chicanery become your doGs. You don’t fantasize about space travel, because you can fly like a bird with hawks & eagles…and there’s not a president, prime minister, congress, parliament or voter on the planet who has a single fucking clue about what you do and what you know. You have great difficulty over not simply dismissing all of them, telling them to just piss off—pitching a tent with your wing alongside, waiting to be spread and free the next time.

When you watch this 5-mim very high def video, it would make me very happy if you pay very close attention on many levels, beyond assessing the age of the folks (teens and 20-something in the 70s, still at it).

1. Look at the clouds.
2. Look at the sunlight.
3. Look at the shade those clouds make on the ground.
4. Look at the shades of darkness on the cloud bottoms.
5. Look at the terrain.

Those points are kinda essence in terms of apprehending well and getting a long or far flight, or failing, or getting hurt (though you must understand what it all means). Remember: Obama couldn’t help you, even if he got tired of running the universe.

A couple of important notes before you watch. First, you’ll see hang gliders that almost appear to spin on a top and go up. This is true. Big Air. Think of a pot of water at a low boil. It’s a caldron. Analogously, there’s air going up, and air going down, churning. You find yourself in the up, you can be in air that’s 2,000 feet per minute up or more to 10K and above. But it can be right next to air that’s crashing earthward at a similar velocity, and near the surface can be found predictable mixtures of the two. Safe landing please.

OK, watch for 5min: Dreaming Awake At King Mountain Idaho.

That’s the video that inspired this entire post, three days chewing on what I wanted to say about it.

After first buying in just over 3 years ago, I just inked my third contract in 3 years. In fact, today is the anniversary date of my second contract a year ago.

The Grand Solmar Land’s End Resort & Spa, developed by HKS, same guys who did Cowboy’s Stadium.

So, this puts me at a capital investment of about $160,000, with rights of occupancy for 15 Studio and 15 1BR Suite weeks per year, excluding only the last two weeks of the year (Xmas and NY). About a 10 year lease on each of the three contracts.

From here, I’ll be buying in equally in the new resort just up the coast, also being developed by HKS. Golf course, wave pool, lazy river, lagoons…all the goodies. Hacienda style. First occupancy March of 2017.

I’m booked to go visit it all March 21, for a week. …Sure beats futzing and writing about what to eat.

And now, headed out the door to the place that started it all, back in a week.  Friends coming down from N. Cal, who we met in La Paz three years ago, at the point where I bought in here at Cabo. So, it’s full circle.

How’ya like them apples, Kathleen Sodoma, RD, LDN – Chair, you miserable, stupid cunt?

I did three preliminary posts:

• Menace to Society: North Carolina Board of Dietetics/Nutrition (NCBDN)
• Clear Thinking, Drawing Distinctions and North Carolina Board of Dietetics/Nutrition vs Steve Cooksey, Diabetes Warrior
• Who’s The Worstest of Them All?

Then, this one, that actually broke the story a few hours ahead of the press release, thanks to Jeff Rowes’ favor to me:

Steve Cooksey Sues the North Carolina Board of Dietetics/Nutrition in Federal Court: 1st Amendment; Free Speech

That interview is good work on my part. I especially like how I play Devil’s Advocate with Jeff, asking him to draw a distinction between occupational licensing (hairdressers, dietitians, etc.) and professional licensing (doctors, lawyers, etc.). While as an anarchist I disagree with all laws imposed by initiatory force, the distinction he makes is logical in the context of where we are.

But in the end, could care less who wants to go to Bob’s Garage Surgery, nor what happens to them if they do. And, what if Bob is better and more experienced than any “board certified” surgeon you can find? What if he grew up apprenticing surgery in the field, where there were no “board certified” surgeons?

What if you could Yelp and check Yelp under the garage surgery category? Oh yes, I know: You prefer to vote and feel good. Anything towards shirking responsibility at the expense of others is how you get sold on almost anything, lazy asses you always are and will always be.

Anyway, here’s the news:

• Steve Cooksey’s Righteously-Rightfully Gloating Post
• The Institute for Justice’s PressRel
• Reason’s Weigh In
• The Associated Press’ Captivating Blurbishness
• The North Carolina Board of Dietetics/Nutrition Declaration of Victory

That last one is pure sodom[a]y.

Steve Cooksey Lawsuit Update

Successful Resolution of Lawsuit by the NCBDN

On September 8, 2014, Steve Cooksey voluntarily dismissed the lawsuit he filed against the North Carolina Board of Dietetics/Nutrition in 2012. Mr. Cooksey’s voluntary dismissal did not involve any exchange of money or any payment of attorneys’ fees.

On February 9, 2015, the Board elected to adopt a revised version of a guideline it originally adopted in 2011 in order to provide further clarity for non-licensed persons as to the Board’s interpretation of the North Carolina Dietetics/Nutrition Practice Act’s licensing requirements. The updated guidelines clarify and highlight the Board’s view that non-licensed persons whose activities are limited to expressing information, guidance, opinions, or encouragement about food, lifestyle, or dietary practices are not engaging in the practice of dietetics/nutrition where such expression is directed at the public generally or outside the context of a professional-client relationship.

Neither Mr. Cooksey’s lawsuit nor its resolution has changed the Dietetics/Nutrition Practice Act or any of the Board’s regulations. The requirements of the law remain the same. It is the Board’s hope that the revised licensing guidelines will help all North Carolina citizens in better understanding the law.

The Board is pleased that this lawsuit was effectively resolved with a voluntary dismissal and that the Dietetics/Nutrition Practice Act and its corresponding regulations remain fully intact.

Like I said, that Kathleen Sodomaizer is a real lot of cunty.

“Paleo” Tards like to wax on about…well, not beeswax.

Fuck Cordain. ThereISaidIt.

Check this out. It’s an IndiGoGo funded to nearly 3,000% (asked for $70K, now over $2 mil).

Again: fuck Cordain; …and his stupid cunt-bitch Casey Thaler, “B.A., NASM-CPT, FNS.”

That is all.

So after my revelation and ink, it appears some people are confused, since I took pics of baguettes and posted them to a bog.

My intent was not a shift in values, but in focus.

What I won’t do:

1. Blog about “anti-nutrients” in a Cordainian context
2. Blog about “toxins” in a Cordainian context
3. Blog about cholesterol
4. Blog about glycolysis
5. Blog about ketones
6. Blog about ridiculous extremes, vegan or low carb

What I might do:

1. Blog about the food I like and make myself, with pics (take it or leave it, don’t care either way)
2. Blog about nice food at competent restaurants
3. Blog about things I consider still important like vitamin D (living indoors, and/or at the wrong latitude), vitamin K2 (we don’t eat nose to tail)
4. Blog about prebiotics and probiotics; not as a focus, but as an aside
5. Blog about “anti-nutrients” and “toxins” in a human, non-Cordainian context

Are we clear?

~~~

Bea turned on The Oscars pre-laf-laf around 1 PM, I think. Here’s the deal. If you look at it as a comedy show, it’s actually quite good—in a Spinal Tap as serious drama sort of way. I did get her lafing a good deal about some of the over-the-top pretense that can only exist in Hollywood.

This year, we probably saw fewer of the best pic, best actor, and best actress (the only important ones, if “important” isn’t too reaching) films of any recent year in memory. Last year, my sole desire over the affair was to see Matthew McConaughey get best actor for the amazing Dallas Buyer’s Club. Check!

This year, I wasn’t really interested in best picture and while Birdman was just-OK for me, and I like Michael Keaton, I really don’t care much for Hollywood films about how much it sucks to be a success in Hollywood. Go. Fuck. Yourselves. …As one fat-rolodex pundit put it in the lead up, “Hollywood loves a movie about itself.”

…My interest this year was over 2 actors and 2 actresses (I did not see The Imitation Game, so Benedict Cumberbatch might have replaced one of those). Eddie Radmayne in The Theory of Everything, but thought Steve Carell edged him out in Foxcatchers. Reese Witherspoon in Wild, but thought Jennifer Aniston edged her out in Cake (not even nominated). The common thread I absolutely love is that two comedians really showed what they’re made of as professional actors. Still can’t get over Steve Carell…

~~~

For dinner, I happened to have some center cut pork chops, so got to thinking. Ever since I first did carnitas and persimmons way back in 2008, I just think pork and fruit is a wonderful thing. I’ve done a bunch of variations since.

Last night was courtesy of Emeril Lagasse: Pork Chops Stewed with Apples and Prunes, with Mashed Sweet Potatoes. A few variations. No fresh rosemary, so dry, and be careful (cut it in half). Fuji apple instead of Golden Delicious. White wine instead of cognac, half & half instead of cream. Also, my 4 chops were not 1 1/2 inches, so I basically did stuff 1/2 to 2/3 recipe. Also, big one: russet potatoes, not sweet potatoes. Sweets would have been a big misstep in my view, as I’ll explain after the pics. Click on ’em for the higher res.

Beatrice will tell you that I’m my own most vicious critic. When I’m disappointed in the slightest thing, I might just leave it after a few bites. Life is too short. It’s not to say it’s not good or decent, but in the process of the whole process, one can build up certain expectations and for me, when not met or exceeded when it’s your own hand, leave it and live to cook another day.

This one blew me away. I don’t think that in my life I have ever done a dish with such a complex profile of sweet, savory, and salty. And that leads me to the mash. What really put this dish over the top was the russet mash, with just a bit of butter, bit of H&H, but very careful salt, up until the point where you taste the salt, but it’s not “salty.” If you know what I mean.

Additionally, when the sauce was reduced, I tasted and the sweet was a bit dominating. Just a few twists from the Himalayan pink salt mill, and it brought the sweet under better control and razed the savory immensely.

…I’m going to do this basic thing again, but next time I’m going to do as a braise in the oven at 175 until the pork is fork tender. This was my only disappointment. Pork was a bit dry (but in this case, you slice thin and dredge).

Onward.

 Here are the rules:

1. Simple. Less is more.
2. Always a fresh crunchy baguette.
3. Always unsalted butter, never mayonnaise.
4. Pâté, quality charcuterie (sliced when you buy), or French-syle ham (e.g., Jambon de Paris) which is cooked, not smoked or cured.
5. Cornichon (Gherkin) often, but not always.
6. Moutarde rarely, but sometimes.
7. They aren’t for every day, or even necessarily every week.

Here’s the ones I’ve made over about the last six months.

Rather than do it all the time, do it sometimes and always make it excellent.

You can agree or disagree and change course. You can pursue a new path.

You can vow. Promise. You can sign on the dotted line.

You can ink it.

I made a significant decision the other day and wrote about it: Life Takes a Big Turn And Everything Changes. While I surely meant it, it wasn’t until I read the comments and the emails I’ve received that I felt like totally owning it.

So I inked it.

OK, here’s the symbolism. Black Flag.

The black flag, and the color black in general, have been associated with anarchism since the 1880s. Many anarchist collectives contain the word “black” in their names. There have been a number of anarchist periodicals entitled Black Flag.

The uniform blackness of the flag is in stark contrast to the colorful flags typical of most nation-states. Additionally, as a white flag has been used to request parley or to surrender, the counter-opposite black flag would logically be a symbol of defiance and opposition to surrender.

Hit the link for more history and usage.

And, don’t forget:

“Every normal man must be tempted, at times, to spit on his hands, hoist the black flag, and begin slitting throats.” — H. L. Menken

Onto the classic Anarchy symbol everyone knows.

The Circle-A is almost certainly the best-known present-day symbol for anarchy. It is a monogram that consists of the capital letter “A” surrounded by the capital letter “O”. The letter “A” is derived from the first letter of “anarchy” or “anarchism” in most European languages and is the same in both Latin and Cyrillic scripts. The “O” stands for order. Together they stand for “Anarchy is the mother of Order,” the first part of a Proudhon quotation.[8] This character can be written as Unicode codepoint U+24B6: Ⓐ. In addition, the “@” sign or “(A)” can be used to quickly represent the circle-A on a computer.

Instead of Proudhon—whom I read in the original French in the early 90’s while I was reading The Russian Radical (Ayn Rand) at the same time—I like this quote by another:

“Anarchy is all around us. Without it, our world would fall apart. All progress is due to it. All order extends from it. All blessed things that rise above the state of nature are owed to it. The human race thrives only because of the lack of control, not because of it. I’m saying that we need ever more absence of control to make the world a more beautiful place. It is a paradox that we must forever explain.” — Jeffrey Tucker

…Here’s the deal:

• I don’t swallow TJeff, TPayne, or any number of other enlightenment thinkers and radicals I’ve read and understand, whole. From them, I take their deep understanding of despotism, “rights” of kings, etc.
• Neither do I dismiss KMarx, VLenin, or any number of other communist thinkers and radicals I’ve read and understand, whole. From them, I take their deep understanding of how institutions prefer those who pay them the most.

Most importantly, I harbor no illusions from either and consider both ideologies more wrong than right.

Let me give you an example. Now, I could pick apart the hell out of this but at the same time, understand that probably at one point—if you make the slightest effort to integrate context—Lenin was speaking to hearts more than minds.

“We want to achieve a new and better order of society: in this new and better society there must be neither rich nor poor; all will have to work. Not a handful of rich people, but all the working people must enjoy the fruits of their common labour. Machines and other improvements must serve to ease the work of all and not to enable a few to grow rich at the expense of millions and tens of millions of people. This new and better society is called socialist society. The teachings about this society are called ‘socialism’.” — Vladimir Lenin (1903)

Well, turned out that people really don’t work that way for myriad reasons and so decades later—and tens of millions dead—in the attempt to enforce Kum-Ba-Yah at gunpoint, now everyone’s into fascism, which I haven’t even touched on yet.

…I am above all an integrator and synthesizer, forever looking for iconoclastic opportunities for the sole purpose of making you feel like a fucktard (in consolation, I love realizing I’ve been a fucktard—means I’m not, in that context, anymore).

Onward.

Since I’ve rented out nearly all my 20 week allotment of 1,250 sqft 1BR Suites for $2,550 each, and 740 sqft Master Studios for $2,150 each for 2015, all I have left other than a single 1BR and a few Studio weeks—one of which I just booked for myself—is unlimited 3, 4, and 5 night bookings at $625 and $495 per night, respectively. I make $100 per night on the spread. Been doing a lot of those.

It has been crazy night and day with inquiries. A year ago, I sold out my 10 contract weeks in February and popped for another $50K contract, to double inventory to 20 weeks. Now, here I sit, same month a year later in the same place: almost sold out for 2015 and it won’t be until July or so when people begin booking for 2016. That’s not all. Nearly sold out, it’s only from people who fill out the form on VRBO, then deal in email. 90% of my bookings involve zero phone conversation. I have 18 or 20 unlistened-to voicemails. Sorry folks: people who can communicate in writing get priority, and I’m almost sold out.

But what if I could serve the unwashed phone callers, as well as the Internet types who I can’t get to before they make other arrangements? What if I recognize my laziness of luxury as good, but not good enough? What if I could put in play another contract or two and have enough potential revenue to pay taxes (that’s euphemism for creating real jobs)? …The world is a 7 billions collection of fucktards who believe governments exact taxes. It’s an illusion. Businesses create activity, and the state steals the most from the unclever; all while the middle ground laps it up just because they can and are so sheepishly fearful of everything that they’ll hand over an ass fucking every day with a smile. The middle is the fat part of the Bell Curve with “FUCKTARD” as the x-axis. 

…I got this review yesterday for another vacation rental place, one I own outright and the one that got me started in this business out of the blue. It’s the 66th review I think, 64 of them 5-star, 2, 4-star.

This cabin always exceeds our expectations!

This is our third and definately not our last stay at Richards cabin. It is the ideal getaway venue for the following reasons, not in particular order:

1. Richard is a breeze and a delight to do business with in every way – easy going, professional, communicative, helpful, thorough, kind.

2. The space has everything needed for a multiple family gathering – beds, linens, open floor plan, flat driveway, games, coziness, fully stocked kitchen, great location close to downtown, easy drive to big trees and bv, great music system, outdoor space from deck to fire pit to woods to explore.

3. Price is unbeatable for what you get.

4. Ease of interaction and the process – from getting in to the cabin to check out, it’s a breeze with Richard.

We had 5 families and 14 folks total and it was spacious enough for all of us. We had group meals, and game time and smores outside and night walks under the stars. We love coming to Richards and will be back again and again. As one family said, can we book this every year until eternity? I’m not sure VRBO is set up for that but you get the sentiment. Rent this space!!!

It’s tear fodder if you’re me, but when you’re me and you think about it, you serve yourself best by asking yourself what in the fuck you’re doing when you clearly have such ease, success, love, and no stress doing something you’re naturally so good at you barely need to get out of bed to do good at it.

Who’s the biggest fucktard here? I know if you don’t.

…A few hours ago I booked a three night stay in a Land’s End Grand Solmar studio for someone, just a call of hundreds over 3 years. $300 to me in the spread for the trouble. Marta Rodriguez asked me: “Mr. Nikoley, when are you going to come stay, and visit us; me, Veronica, Patricia, Becky, Hector?”

Thing is, I’d already long been reflecting on being a pusher who never once sampled his own stash. Her question put me over the edge: from contemplation, to action…and when I make a decide, I move very fast. I emailed Beatrice. 2 minutes later I get her call: do it. I already had Kayak up for a bead on direct flights, SJC –> SJD and back (I don’t do layovers). Called back and as luck would have it, got Marta again.

Done. Headed out morning of March 21, back evening of the 28th.

It’s a business trip, not a social call. I want to inspect the product I’ve been selling for three years, so as to best understand whether to buy more contracts retail, or scoop up secondary-market contracts for almost nothing. Moreover, same developer will soon break ground on a golf-centric 5-star world class resort miles away and I need to integrate that, ground floor shit. Potential problem there is capital outlay way in advance of rental revenue.

…All this to say that you may miss me, you may not, but I’m tired and basically done writing about what you ought eat. Eat good, and fast regularly. If you eat crap, fast more. Feed your gut. Just eat beans for that. That’s about it.

I’ll still blog about it sometimes; but hereafter, you’ll best consider me not a paleo[ish], food, or health blogger; but rather, an Anarchist above all: interested in illustrating all ways that you live by virtue of convenient illusions almost all the time, and how you break that vicious cycle.

I’ll give you the punch line first.

Whatever your dietary sins, it keeps coming back again and again that a really solid fast with zero food for 24 hours or so is the equivalent of your gardener, Jesus, next to you in the phone booth to doG, redeeming all those sins.

Ive done everything over weeks in terms of crazy “food” like you wouldn’t believe. probiotics and prebiotics only make you shit every 30 minutes if you stress it; with like lots of alcohol, 7-11 microwave burritos, junk food…I could go way on. It really didn’t take long to realize I was really “doing this for [my] science.” And it’s all dead end. No silver bullet. The gut, for better or worse, is the gut and if you develop it enough, it might make you vomit like a dog when it does’t like what you ate or drank (more on that later).

Now I know as much as I possibly can. Nothing you can eat for your cells or your gut can fix you in terms of making you stellar or “bulletproof.” For me, now, I have a sensitive gag and vomit reflex that’s not particularly conscious and i don’t even understand it.

But I think that eating well and feeding your gut is good in regular terms, but it truly seems to me that for me avoiding this gag and vomit reflex, I must eat good food, consume little alcohol (or give a lot of space in-between…yea, tested that too), even less wheat-type products (runnys every time, without fail, and tested by 24 hr fasts).

And. when you go off the rails, or you’re just getting started, there is simply nothing so effective as a 24+ honest fast.

Heretofore, I’m likely to focus on that more, because I can’t give a runny shit anymore about what people want to eat and in the end, forcing a natural hunger for a day or so once a week might be the easiest thing to adhere to in the long run, no worries about anything else. Moreover, you’ll likely figure out your main culprits via fasts, then eat your suspicions. You know what they are.

Guess I’ve come full circle with what Brad Pilon was saying in like 2009.

1. Beatrice is away for the school vacation week, with the dogs. Down at the parents’ place in Vista. Right now, on an overnighter with mom & sis at one of the Indian casinos down there. I don’t have to walk or feed dogs, and can watch Sons of Anarchy and The Walking Dead as loud as I want. BTW, anyone feel like TWD has gotten off to an awful start this season, 2 initial episodes of mind numbing self-reflection and whinny ass shit?

2. Had lunch with “J”—the one I’m trying to help find a smart geek for—at Original Gravity Public House. They feature ultra craft micro brews, sausages, and fries cooked in duck fat.

We shared, and competed half-half on who had the better condiment mix (sauerkraut, pickled jalapeño, sautéed green pepper, sautéed onion). Sausages were buffalo, pheasant, and duck. Highly recommended.

3. Had lunch with Kit Perkins (best Paleo transformation ever)—the guy behind Topo, the weird-ass Standing Desk Mat—at Brown Chicken Brown Cow, that do grass fed gourmet burgers and free range chicken. Topo is a great success in terms of launch, with about 1,000 pre-orders from folks like you. At last count, 65 of them from here, at the launch price of a hundred bucks. Thanks. My $650 for that has been paid, plus Kit bought lunch. You’ll like it. I don’t always stand when I work, but when I do, I stand on a Topo (prototype). You can still pre-order.

4. Duck Dodgers and I have been reasonably active in Mike Eades’ comments, in spite of my scathing post in response. Discussion has been reasonably cordial with minimal snark once things got going, and Eades has been gentlemanly in putting our comments through and responding to them. You can scan/read the thread here. My last comment, about tiger nuts of all things, is still in his mod queue but I’m confident will be up later when next he revisits the blog [it’s now been posted and replied to].

…Alright. That should about do it for now. Working on a couple of posts; one, about some new research on Vitamin K2, an old subject around here. Another has been languishing but it will eventually come to light. It’s about the very strange nutrition in raw honey, including microbes we’d normally consider pathogenic.