JERRY WOLKOFF BLOG-IN LOVING MEMORY OF MY SON STEVEN NATHANIEL WOLKOFF, MY FATHER SAMUEL WOLKOFF, AND ALL THE OTHER VICTIMS OF INJUSTICE, EVIL IN THIS WORLD.THEY DIMINISH YOUR RIGHTS,THEN THEY DIMINISH YOUR EXISTENCE, THEN THEY LIE ABOUT IT, SAY YOU NEVER EXISTED, AND THE PROBLEM IS PEOPLE FORGET THE SUFFERING THAT LASTS FOREVER, NEVER KNOWING THE TRUTH BY WHOSE HANDS, OR HOW YOU WERE KILLED.
HELP SIGN PETITION FOR JENNIFER MCNARY MOTHER OF MAX AND AUSTIN
I received an e-mail below from Jennifer McNary Mother of Max and Austin. Please take a minute of your time and sign her worthy petition to the FDA. These are the "small" things that each of us can do to make a difference in the lives of others who need our help, in this case a simple signature in their support to keep her kids alive.
Both
of my sons have the same debilitating disease -- Duchenne Muscular
Dystrophy -- that's kept them dependent on wheelchairs to get around. But now only one of my sons has access to a "miracle drug" that is saving his life.
Max was
fortunate enough to take part in a study of a breakthrough medication,
and now he can walk on his own for longer than he ever could. But Austin
wasn't as lucky.
Without access to this miracle drug, I watch Austin suffer silently as his brother thrives. The
FDA has the power to make this drug available to kids like Austin by
putting it through the "accelerated approval" program. It could
otherwise take years for this important drug to be available to kids
like Austin, denying him the same chance as his brother at a better and
longer life.
Duchenne's
is a disease that causes loss of muscle, to the point where children
stop walking and eventually cannot breathe on their own. It is a slow
death sentence with no effective treatment available. Watching
Max make progress with this medication has been nothing short of a
miracle, but bittersweet -- Austin grows steadily weaker with each
passing day.
Eteplirsen has helped one of my sons accomplish what I never believed possible. And
this year, a law was passed that allows the Food and Drug
Administration (FDA) to expedite the approval of experimental
medications that have been proven to work.
The company
that produces Eteplirsen is going to officially ask the FDA soon for
accelerated approval because of its miraculous trial results. I am doing everything I can to make sure the FDA knows how crucial this drug is to the survival of my sons. But
they need to know that the public supports an accelerated approval
process too -- and since they have the power to act, your signature will
add the pressure they need to move quickly.
It always seems like the health of our nations economy depends solely on the spending of dollars by the average consumer. This often raises the question in my mind as to where does Corporate America fit into this seemingly ludicrous, flawed formula.
One would think that Corporations, the Private Sector, Federal, State, Local governments should be essential parts of this equation that needs to invest heavily in America, whether it be through hiring American workers, locating customer/tech departments locally, buying, manufacturing their materials here, and contributing the overwhelming portion of financial support that determines whether our economic status is healthy. Somehow, they get a "free pass" by outsourcing everything possible, sitting on huge profits that are not invested here, never being held accountable to as an integral part of helping our economy grow and not being factored very much into keeping America alive.
Every year at this time I am reminded of the back assward way that experts judge how our economy is doing. It is called the "Holiday Shopping Season" and its success or failure is all determined by how much money regular folks spend, never taking into account the impact of all the other above entities that weigh heavily on whether our financial system can survive.
Especially this year, as the United States is creeping within days of falling off the so called "fiscal cliff", no one in any position of Authority appears to have the courage or even a "Boehner" fide interest in stopping this disaster from happening.
The Stores were packed, filled parking lots, online sales were so busy that on certain days there was so much Internet traffic that online capacity was tiny, reducing web surfing to a turtle crawl.
Part of the blame can be attributed to the real potential of the Country going over the fiscal cliff, which apparently spooked enough
shoppers to hold back.
Nobody knows how much money they'll get to keep in the coming year. One shopper stated that he seemed to be opening a lot of socks on Christmas.
Although, have you noticed? Socks aren't a cheap gift anymore. They all
have some sort of high-tech wicking system, special shock absorbing
impact zones, patented open mesh ventilation technology, anti-bacterial
odor suppression.
Founder Samy Liechti describes them "as something the sock
world has never seen before". Critics may argue that they are a little
over-engineered.
Each sock comes with its own RFID chip, which can be "read"
by a NFC (near field communication) device known as a sock sorter, which
in turn communicates via Bluetooth with an iPhone.
As each pair has its own unique identifier, finding a lost
pair amongst a pile of identical socks is as easier as scanning them
with the sock sorter, and waiting until the iPhone app beeps to tell you
it has located the exact match.
For those who really want to keep track of their socks, the
app also produces a range of data checking how black they are,
offering to replace worn-out socks and even finding a close match for
socks whose partners have gone astray.
Smarter Socks which comes with one Sock Sorter and ten pairs of socks
But apparently even buying these socks aren't enough to juice the economy. So the President will be back in town tomorrow to see if he can get a budget deal done in the five days that remain.
I'm beginning to think it's going to have to take another shock like
the stock market dropping 2,000 points to get them off the dime.
Still not listening. If they were listening they'd hear that people want a deal.
Seventy percent want rich people to pay higher taxes.
"But an even higher percent support significant spending cuts."
"I'm not sure if either side is watching very carefully, and
listening to what the American people think," said Republican
strategist and pollster Frank Luntz in an interview today with "CBS
This Morning."
"When we asked the American people, Who is the GOP
fighting for and representing? The number one answer, the rich. The
number two answer, big business. Back in number three place is hard-working taxpayers. By the republicans fighting this tax increase on
the most wealthy Americans, the public looks at that and says once
again the GOP is standing up for the rich."
The Democrats, Luntz argued, have been equally tone deaf.
"What the Democrats don't understand is that the hostility towards
how much Washington spends, that this whole discussion over the last
six weeks has been about raising taxes on the wealthy rather than also
cutting wasteful Washington spending," he said.
So the polls say Americans want a compromise, and congress doesn't get
it, which is why Congress's approval rating has now dropped to 11
percent.
REST IN PEACE STEVEN Time it was, and what a time it was, it was A time of innocence, a time of confidences Long ago, it must be, I have a photograph Preserve your memories, they're all that's left of you.
We had to let go of another piece of you this week Steven, but not a moment goes by that you are always remembered, missed and loved.
Just when you think that our society has sunk as low as it can go, something else even more unimaginable happens, and we discover once again that there are NO limits to the sickness of our world.
26 innocent human beings were murdered in cold blood at the Sandy Hook Elementary school in Newton, Connecticut. Horrifically, 20 of these victims are little children, between the ages of 6- 7 years old. Innocent little babies who have done nothing wrong to deserve their lives being snuffed out so very young, in a school room where they are supposedly safe and protected. They are are executed for no reason at all by a deranged individual who planned this massacre with deliberate precision and detail.
THE MOST IMPORTANT PART OF ALL THIS IS TO ACKNOWLEDGE THE MEMORY THAT THESE MURDERED VICTIMS MOSTLY SMALL CHILDREN HAVE NAMES. THEY LIVED AND NOW THEY ARE DEAD:
- Charlotte Bacon, 2/22/06, female- 6 years old
- Daniel Barden, 9/25/05, male- 7 years old
- Rachel Davino, 7/17/83, female-29 years old
- Olivia Engel, 7/18/06, female-6 years old
- Josephine Gay, 12/11/05, female-7 years old
- Ana M. Marquez-Greene, 04/04/06, female-6 years old
- Dylan Hockley, 3/8/06, male-6 years old
- Dawn Hochsprung, 06/28/65, female-47 years old
- Madeleine F. Hsu, 7/10/06, female-6 years old
- Catherine V. Hubbard, 6/08/06, female-6 years old
- Chase Kowalski, 10/31/05, male-7 years old
- Jesse Lewis, 6/30/06, male-6 years old
- James Mattioli , 3/22/06, male-6 years old
- Grace McDonnell, 12/04/05, female-7 years old
- Anne Marie Murphy, 07/25/60, female- 52 years old
- Emilie Parker, 5/12/06, female-6 years old
- Jack Pinto, 5/06/06, male-6 years old
- Noah Pozner, 11/20/06, male-6 years old
- Caroline Previdi, 9/07/06, female-6 years old
- Jessica Rekos, 5/10/06, female-6 years old
- Avielle Richman, 10/17/06, female-6 years old
- Lauren Rousseau, 6/1982, female -31 years old
- Mary Sherlach, 2/11/56, female-56 years old
- Victoria Soto, 11/04/85, female- 27 years old
- Benjamin Wheeler, 9/12/06, male-6 years old
- Allison N. Wyatt, 7/03/06, female- 6 years old
It is a parent's worst nightmare to lose a child of any age. Don't
ever forget they we who have lost children are also victims as well as the surviving brothers, sisters,
relatives of this nightmare that is all too real.
There will never be closure for us and the pain will ache in our broken hearts forever. When the loss of our children happens by the unaccountable acts of others, we are even more traumatized, damaged, and destroyed.
There is the inevitable response of a media circus, arguments about the politics of gun control, religions
explaining away what has happened by talking about fantasy concepts of
these new Angels in heaven, a time for healing, when in fact healing cannot ever
come for those killed, nor their families, useless words to somehow try to make people feel
better, and the quest for answers about how could this happen to
defenseless little children, and their teachers.
The explanations, band aid solutions, all miss the point. Soon the forgetful memory of Americans will dissipate the tragedy of this and the true solutions never touched. We are a nation obsessed with denial of "it can't happen to me, my children, my family" and so as usual nothing will change to prevent future massacres. The problem. You want to to know the problem? Begin with the hundreds of thousands people trapped in our culture with no humane
solutions. It's not as simple as there being too easy access to buy guns, that by itself is not at the root of what is wrong. As a Country we have consistently made it very clear that there is a huge disconnect between what is said and that which is actually done. Budget cuts in Federal/State governments have crippled an already impotent, dying under funded system of mental health agencies. The new upcoming round of "balancing the deficit" spending cuts will be the next set of draconian "we can't afford' to help those in need death knell to the fragile, decaying framework of organizations that attempt to help the mentally ill. All the phony hand wringing of what has happened in Connecticut to these children will be shot down by the reality that it costs a lot of money to fix these problems. We always find this money to fight wars in foreign lands but never does it become available to spend it on saving our own vulnerable citizens. But you say, we must provide
an accessible system to address mental illness, just as we are striving
for medical care for physical ills. It's not going to happen, ever.
The stigma of mental illness is almost as strong as it was 30 years ago. Little has changed when it comes to the perception of people who suffer with emotional problems.
This in spite of the fact that mental disorders are common in the United States and internationally. An estimated 26.2 per cent of Americans ages 18 and older, about one in four persons, which translates well in excess of 60 million Americans, not even including those under the age of 18.
We are a Country that is full of shit when it talks about compassion, protecting little children, or helping to truly attack the problems that have consigned us to the lowest steps on the ladder of hell.
It is tolerated that innocent people get murdered and now we have crossed over the line, it will be tolerated that precious little children are also murdered. It is an ugly, ugly reality that only those who live with mental illness are left to fend for themselves because no one really cares about them or even wants to think about. What is it like to live in fear that your child might hurt someone you, himself, or someone else? Liza Long is afraid she has an inkling. In a powerful essay that's being shared across the Internet, this Boise, Idaho, courageous mom of four has the guts to talk about her life with a bright but disturbed teenage son.
Three days before 20-year-old Adam Lanza killed
his mother, then opened fire on a classroom full of Connecticut
kindergartners, my 13-year-old son Michael (name changed) missed his bus
because he was wearing the wrong color pants.
"I can wear these
pants," he said, his tone increasingly belligerent, the black-hole
pupils of his eyes swallowing the blue irises."They are navy blue," I told him. "Your school's dress code says black or khaki pants only.""They
told me I could wear these," he insisted. "You're a stupid bitch. I can
wear whatever pants I want to. This is America. I have rights!"
"You
can't wear whatever pants you want to," I said, my tone affable,
reasonable. "And you definitely cannot call me a stupid bitch. You're
grounded from electronics for the rest of the day. Now get in the car,
and I will take you to school."
I live with a son who is mentally ill. I love my son.But he terrifies me.
A
few weeks ago, Michael pulled a knife and threatened to kill me and
then himself after I asked him to return his overdue library books. His
7- and 9-year-old siblings knew the safety plan—they ran to the car and
locked the doors before I even asked them to. I managed to get the knife
from Michael, then methodically collected all the sharp objects in the
house into a single Tupperware container that now travels with me.
Through it all, he continued to scream insults at me and threaten to
kill or hurt me.
That conflict ended with three burly police
officers and a paramedic wrestling my son onto a gurney for an expensive
ambulance ride to the local emergency room. The mental hospital didn't
have any beds that day, and Michael calmed down nicely in the ER, so
they sent us home with a prescription for Zyprexa and a follow-up visit
with a local pediatric psychiatrist.
We still don't know what's
wrong with Michael. Autism spectrum, ADHD, Oppositional Defiant or
Intermittent Explosive Disorder have all been tossed around at various
meetings with probation officers and social workers and counselors and
teachers and school administrators. He's been on a slew of antipsychotic
and mood-altering pharmaceuticals, a Russian novel of behavioral plans.
Nothing seems to work.
At the start of seventh grade, Michael
was accepted to an accelerated program for highly gifted math and
science students. His IQ is off the charts. When he's in a good mood, he
will gladly bend your ear on subjects ranging from Greek mythology to
the differences between Einsteinian and Newtonian physics to Doctor Who.
He's in a good mood most of the time. But when he's not, watch out. And
it's impossible to predict what will set him off.
Several weeks
into his new junior high school, Michael began exhibiting increasingly
odd and threatening behaviors at school. We decided to transfer him to
the district's most restrictive behavioral program, a contained school
environment where children who can't function in normal classrooms can
access their right to free public babysitting from 7:30 to 1:50 Monday
through Friday until they turn 18.
The morning of the pants
incident, Michael continued to argue with me on the drive. He would
occasionally apologize and seem remorseful. Right before we turned into
his school parking lot, he said, "Look, Mom, I'm really sorry. Can I
have video games back today?" " No way," I told him. "You cannot
act the way you acted this morning and think you can get your electronic
privileges back that quickly."His face turned cold, and his
eyes were full of calculated rage. "Then I'm going to kill myself," he
said. "I'm going to jump out of this car right now and kill myself."
That
was it. After the knife incident, I told him that if he ever said those
words again, I would take him straight to the mental hospital, no ifs,
ands, or buts. I did not respond, except to pull the car into the
opposite lane, turning left instead of right.
"Where are you taking me?" he said, suddenly worried. "Where are we going?""You know where we are going," I replied."No! You can't do that to me! You're sending me to hell! You're sending me straight to hell!"
I
pulled up in front of the hospital, frantically waving for one of the
clinicians who happened to be standing outside. "Call the police," I
said. "Hurry."
Michael was in a full-blown fit by then, screaming
and hitting. I hugged him close so he couldn't escape from the car. He
bit me several times and repeatedly jabbed his elbows into my rib cage.
I'm still stronger than he is, but I won't be for much longer.
The
police came quickly and carried my son screaming and kicking into the
bowels of the hospital. I started to shake, and tears filled my eyes as I
filled out the paperwork—"Were there any difficulties with… at what age
did your child… were there any problems with.. has your child ever
experienced.. does your child have…"
At least we have health
insurance now. I recently accepted a position with a local college,
giving up my freelance career because when you have a kid like this, you
need benefits. You'll do anything for benefits. No individual insurance
plan will cover this kind of thing.
For days, my son insisted
that I was lying—that I made the whole thing up so that I could get rid
of him. The first day, when I called to check up on him, he said, "I
hate you. And I'm going to get my revenge as soon as I get out of here."
By
day three, he was my calm, sweet boy again, all apologies and promises
to get better. I've heard those promises for years. I don't believe them
anymore. On the intake form, under the question, "What are your expectations for treatment?" I wrote, "I need help." And
I do. This problem is too big for me to handle on my own. Sometimes
there are no good options. So you just pray for grace and trust that in
hindsight, it will all make sense.
I am sharing this story
because I am Adam Lanza's mother. I am Dylan Klebold's and Eric Harris's
mother. I am Jason Holmes's mother. I am Jared Loughner's mother. I am
Seung-Hui Cho's mother. And these boys—and their mothers—need help. In
the wake of another horrific national tragedy, it's easy to talk about
guns. But it's time to talk about mental illness.
According to Mother Jones, since 1982, 61 mass murders involving firearms have
occurred throughout the country. Of these, 43 of the killers were white
males, and only one was a woman. Mother Jones focused on whether the
killers obtained their guns legally (most did). But this highly visible
sign of mental illness should lead us to consider how many people in the
U.S. live in fear, like I do.
When I asked my son's social
worker about my options, he said that the only thing I could do was to
get Michael charged with a crime. "If he's back in the system, they'll
create a paper trail," he said. "That's the only way you're ever going
to get anything done. No one will pay attention to you unless you've got
charges."
I don't believe my son belongs in jail. The chaotic
environment exacerbates Michael's sensitivity to sensory stimuli and
doesn't deal with the underlying pathology.
But it seems like the United
States is using prison as the solution of choice for mentally ill
people. According to Human Rights Watch, the number of mentally ill
inmates in U.S. prisons quadrupled from 2000 to 2006, and it continues
to rise—in fact, the rate of inmate mental illness is five times greater (56 percent) than in the non-incarcerated population.
With
state-run treatment centers and hospitals shuttered, prison is now the
last resort for the mentally ill. Rikers Island, the LA County Jail and Cook County Jail in Illinois housed the nation's largest treatment
centers in 2011. No one wants to send a 13-year-old genius who
loves Harry Potter and his snuggle animal collection to jail. But our
society, with its stigma on mental illness and its broken healthcare
system, does not provide us with other options. Then another tortured
soul shoots up a fast food restaurant. A mall. A kindergarten classroom.
And we wring our hands and say, "Something must be done."
I
agree that something must be done. It's time for a meaningful,
nation-wide conversation about mental health.
That's the only way our
nation can ever truly heal.
Ladies and gentlemen, wear sunscreen
If I could offer you only one tip for the future, sunscreen would be it
The long term benefits of sunscreen have been proved by scientists
Whereas the rest of my advice has no basis more reliable
Than my own meandering experience, I will dispense this advice now
Enjoy the power and beauty of your youth, oh, never mind
You will never understand the power
And the beauty of your youth until they've faded
But trust me, in twenty years
You will look back at photos of yourself
And recall in a way you can't grasp now
How much possibility lay before you
And how fabulous you really looked
You are not as fat as you imagine
Don't worry about the future or worry that worrying
Is as affective as trying to solve an algebra equation
By chewing bubble gum
The real troubles in your life are apt to be things
That never crossed your worried mind
The kind that blindsides you at 4 p.m. on some idle Tuesday
Do one thing every day that scares you, sing
Don't be reckless with other peoples' hearts
Don't put up with people who are reckless with yours,
floss
Don't waste your time on jealousy
Sometimes you're ahead, sometimes you're behind
The race is long and in the end, it's only with yourself
Remember compliments you receive, forget the insults
If you succeed in doing this, tell me how
Keep your old love letters, throw away your old bank statements, stretch
Don't feel guilty if you don't know what to do with your life
The most interesting people
I know didn't know at 22 what they wanted to do with their lives
Some of the most interesting 40-year-olds I know still don't
Get plenty of calcium
Be kind to your knees, you'll miss them when they're gone
Maybe you'll marry, maybe you won't
Maybe you'll have children, maybe you won't
Maybe you'll divorce at 40, maybe you'll dance the "Funky Chicken"
On your 75th wedding anniversary
Whatever you do, don't congratulate yourself too much
Or berate yourself either
Your choices are half chance, so are everybody else's
Enjoy your body, use it every way you can
Don't be afraid of it or what other people think of it
It's the greatest instrument you'll ever own, dance
Even if you have nowhere to do it but your own living room
Read the directions even if you don't follow them
Do not read beauty magazines, they will only make you feel ugly
Brother and sister together will make it through
Someday a spirit will take you and guide you there
I know you've been hurting, but I've been waiting to be there for you
And I'll be there just helping you out, whenever I can
Get to know your parents, your loved ones, you never know when they'll be gone for good
Be nice to your siblings, they are your best link to your past
And the people most likely to stick with you in the future
Understand that friends come and go
But a precious few, who should hold on
Work hard to bridge the gaps in geography and lifestyle
For as the older you get, the more you need the people
You knew when you were young
Live in New York City once, but leave before it makes you hard
Live in northern California once, but leave before it makes you soft
Travel, accept certain inalienable truths
Prices will rise, politicians will philander, you too will get old
And when you do, you'll fanaticise that when you were young
Prices were reasonable, politicians were noble
And children respected their elders
Respect your elders, don't expect anyone else to support you
Maybe you have a trust fund, maybe you'll have a wealthy spouse
But you'll never know when either one will run out
Don't mess too much with your hair or by the time you're forty
It will look eighty-five
Be careful whose advice you buy, but be patient with those who supply it
Advice is a form of nostalgia, dispensing it is a way of
Wishing the past from the disposal, wiping it off
Painting over the ugly parts and recycling for more than it's worth
But trust me on the sunscreen
Oh yeah
Someday a spirit will take you and guide you there
I know you've been hurting, but I've been waiting to be there for you
And I'll be there just helping you out, whenever I can
While there are multiple major horrible events taking place daily all over the world, people dying of famine, war, injustices of every type, there is one event that has gripped Americans, overshadowed the other misery happening to human beings.
It says a great deal about American citizenry and their ability to become unusually proactive when it comes to recognizing their own survival is at stake if they don't get involved with what many perceive as the most important event in decades that will affect their lives.
Yes, I am talking panic in the streets kind of involvement, awareness that knows no bounds. Americans have learned that Hostess Brands, Inc. is going out of business and is liquidating its business after striking workers with the Bakery, Confectionery, Tobacco Workers and Grain Millers International Union didn't return to normal work levels as the company management had demanded.
Panic in America in the past few days has resulted in a stampede of citizens who know what is essential to their lives as they cleaned out the food stores and bakeries yesterday of all Hostess products.
Do Americans really care about the 18,500 workers who will lose their jobs at Hostess? Nope, not much, this is really about the personal munchies, cravings on the level of a crack addict cut off from their supply, a heroin addict facing cold turkey. This is about life altering, diabetic causing, cardboard tasting artificial flavored little cakes of fat that people must have or they will surely die.
Screw hurricanes, wars, fiscal cliffs, rapists, murderers, politicians, homeless, poor people, climate change, or anything else that may get in their way of prioritizing this Twinky, Hostess cakes holy grail of life. Good-bye Yodels.
Good-bye Twinkies.
Good-bye Ho Hos.
Good-bye Ding Dongs.
Good-bye Sno Balls.
Good-bye my favorite Wonder Bread that "helps build strong bodies
12 ways," according to the advertising slogan for the brand of soft,
white bread introduced in 1921,the 12 ways referring to 12 nutrients
the owners of the company thought were worth talking about.
Oh if only Mitt Romney and Paul Ryan had known the real push button issue on the minds of Americans, its not the economy, stupid, it's sugar, Twinkies, cake.
Mitt could have used his Bain Capital Company to take over Hostess and bought the votes of fellow Americans by with the slogan "vote for me and I promise you a free carton of Twinkies and other Hostess cakes in every American's home".
His dreams to be in the White House would have come true by buying the votes of the Twinkie junkies in scoring a mere hand full, perhaps, a box, or even a carton.
Mitt had failed to follow his history lessons in which"Upon being informed that the citizens of France had no bread to eat,
Marie Antoinette, Queen of Louis XVI of France, exclaimed "let
them eat cake".
Although she was eventually beheaded when the people of France revolted, no such fate would have befallen Mitt and the GOP here in a strung out America, if only he could get a do over, the poor guy, it was that easy.
Twinkie addiction is formed in early childhood by habit, as parents introduced preschool children to the sugary cakes, and it affects several generations since early childhood. It's the white flour, sugar, and marshmallow cream filling that makes people come back for more. The flavor of the sugar makes the brain light up with hormones that eventually develop into a habit, a familiarity, if not a craving to come back for more and more of it.
See the You Tube video, Howdy Doody Hostess Twinkies Commercial 1950s.
Four generations of Twinkie eaters has had this type of brand loyalty
so much so that some supermarket's own brand of cakes similar to
Twinkie's were left on the shelf this week at numerous
supermarkets.
A lot of dentists for several generations made plenty of money as a result of children wolfing down plenty of Twinkies and changing the ratio of calcium to phosphorous in their bloodstream from eating all that sugar and white flour.
French doctor, Serge Ahmed, of Bordeaux, has been working with rats and giving them the choice between cocaine and sugar. Guess what wins, time and again? Sugar.
Sugar produces dopamine in the brain which in turn makes kids feel good for a few minutes. For some true sugar addicts, they need this to feel better. When kids and parents eat sugar, they feel good for a few minutes until the insulin surges kick in. When the happy feeling wears off, they need more.
Eventually when sugar is cut out of the diet, human brains will begin to produce dopamine on their own, but who has the time to wait for that to happen.
Most snacks such as cream-filled cakes that parents buy for themselves and their kids is high in refined sugar and simple carbohydrates. But soon withdrawal symptoms kick in. This keeps many sugar addicts trapped in their addiction to processed cakes made with white flour and sugar or even bread coated with jam and a fatty substance such as cream or butter.
The sweet taste of sugar is more rewarding than the high of cocaine to some people. That's what makes people come back to buy and eat more foods made with sugar, especially heightened when mixed with white flour, as in a cake with a sweet filling that tastes creamy or even fatty. Some parents even give kids processed sweet foods to get them to behave or even quiet down. But the reaction often is craving and crashing.
Kids grew up eating Twinkies instead of fresh fruit.
Familiarity doesn't breed contempt when it comes to sweet foods. Instead familiarity breeds habit, and habit breeds tradition to come back for more. Americans were introduced in early childhood not only to Twinkies but also to Ho-Hos and Sno-Balls. Most kids whose parents aren't nutrition and natural foods enthusiasts grew up with Twinkies.
Many are young and some are over age 65 and grew up in the 1950s and early 1960s when processed foods dominated the TV ads, as today, a time when sugary foods were advertised on children's TV shows such as the Saturday morning cartoons. The parents and grandparents passed on the Twinkie habit to their own children, and they passed on the Twinkies as soon as the kids could eat solid food, in turn to the next generation of Twinkie addicts.
By Saturday afternoon, online seller eBay was hosting more than 17,000 active listings for Twinkies. Bids and prices varied wildly." Amazingly, one seller's listing asked for $10 million for a box of 10 Twinkies. Since there were no takers by Saturday night, it didn't matter much that the seller promised to deliver the box of Twinkies in a van that displays the buyer's company logo, with $1 million to be donated in the buyer's name to a charity of the buyer's choosing.
But what about another day, when those addicted to Twinkies so much will pay big money for their sweet fix, to satisfy the monkey on their back type of addiction for marshmallow creme.
If the federal government can bail out the banking and auto industries,
why can’t it do the same for Twinkies.
Over at White House.gov,
more than 350 hardworking Americans have already taken time out of all
that working hard to put their name to a petition asking President Obama
to nationalize the Twinkie industry and “prevent our nation from losing
her sweet creamy center.”
So if you believe that Twinkies are too sweet to fail, feel free to put your name on the petition.
There's a box of Twinkies. Not just any box of
Twinkies, the last box of Twinkies that anyone will enjoy in the whole
universe. Believe it or not, Twinkies have an expiration date. Some day
very soon, there will be none left, as time does not age these cakes well.
I am holding out hope for those afflicted that some other company sees the profit value in
Twinkies (and Ho Ho’s, and maybe even Drake’s Cakes) and saves the
government from having to answer years of questions about how it let the
U.S. slip farther back in the international snack cake race.
In the meantime, sites like Hoard The Hostess are already documenting today’s disastrous news. You can go here and mourn, sniff, get an online high off of the photos.
The video clip below from Ghostbusters sums it all up, because in the words of the
great Winston Zeddemore, “That’s one big Twinkie.”
There have been many stories told about the recent storm that destroyed so many parts of the East Coast. In the New York metro area where I live many of these stories are about bad people who looted, others who took advantage by price gouging everything that we needed to survive, incompetent power Companies that had no clue how to restore the electrical service for their customers who pay the highest rates in the United States to maintain.
The area bordered on anarchy, with a cascading mountain of shortages from gasoline to food, water, lack of public transportation, sewage treatment plants broke down, pumping millions of gallons of raw sewage into the ocean and are continuing to do so at this very minute.
People were shot by others for a can of gasoline and Snake Pliskin was ready to protect decent citizens. "Yes, sir! Those Crazies'll kill you and strip you in ten seconds flat! In the Escape from New York movie, 1988, the crime rate in the United States rises four hundred percent. The once great city of New York becomes the one maximum security prison for the entire country. A fifty-foot containment wall is erected along the New Jersey shoreline, across the Harlem River, and down along the Brooklyn shoreline. It completely surrounds Manhattan Island. All bridges and waterways are mined. The United States Police Force, like an army, is encamped around the island. There are no guards inside the prison, only prisoners and the worlds they have made. The rules are simple: once you go in, you don't come out."
We just had a taste of what is to come if the Country doesn't wake up fast.All of this is rooted in the problem that America has a failed, crumbling infrastructure and refuses to deal with the reality that climate change is here, right now. Denial not new ideas, meaningless words not deeds, incompetence not innovation, disrespect of one another not respect, all contributed to one's life not being worth a nickel when it's every person for themselves in order to survive.
All of this despite previous storms, lessons that should have been learned, yet no realistic plans were in place by the local, State and Federal Governments.
All the politicians from both Parties were/are falling all over themselves to blame this fiasco on someone, anyone, anything, find scapegoats but not themselves.
There was no electricity and in some places there still is none. No phone service, no cell towers working, no way to get help if you needed it. Yet these inept politicians using their robo call fancy machines called telephones, spoke on Television, patted themselves on the back in the fashion of the President Bush "job well done Brownie" during the Hurricane Katrina disaster. None of us could hear them or see them, probably a good thing, but it was all they could do since they were full of shit.
Many volunteers from all over came to help or sent donations. This was wonderful to witness.
There is one particular story that won't get much media attention. You may not understand all the words spoken but you will feel the emotions.
A victim of the recent storm that devastated the New York metropolitan area said these simple words when speaking about the Jewish community of volunteers that come every day to help him and his neighbors. He said "I am proud to be a Jew". It is a heart wrenching video below of what happened to his community and the selfless response of strangers from other nearby Jewish Communities who have come to help. It is a lesson in how a culture, religion, and ethnic group have been able to survive from the beginning of time by sticking together and being there for each other.
A lesson that the rest of America needs to learn before it is too late.
