Every once in a while I come across an article of such staggering ineptitude that I have to re-read it several times to really grasp the steaming pile of ignorance that must have written it. In many of those cases, I found that I simply misread it the first time through. Often, these are blog posts written by people of questionable cognitive abilities and even more questionable spelling and grammar knowledge.
Sadly, no matter how many times I read and re-read this article this morning, I couldn't find what I was desperately hoping for. This was an article written by a Mike Adams - AKA the Health Ranger; a man who has a large number of devotees who think he understands basic science. Actually, they think he knows better than the scientists. Apparently so does he.
Are You Eating Pesticides?
If you do read the above linked article, I apologize if you experienced any ill health effects from such IQ draining drivel. If you didn't, let me summarize his sudden insights that nobody in the entire scientific community was ever able to figure out since the dawn of industrial chemical production over a half century ago.
A) Pesticides are toxic
B) Pesticides often contain Canola oil.
therefore....
C) You're frying those oreos in toxic pesticides.
For many of you, I'm preaching to the choir. If you are among those who aren't immediately smacked in the face with the glaring errors this man makes, please allow me to point them out. Oh, and do NOT feel bad. "Toxicity" is not a topic covered in most schools. I happened to go through an Agricultural program at Penn State and pesticides were a main topic of study. I also work in a field that involves pesticide usage.
To get the obvious out of the way, pesticides are toxic. To get the not-so-obvious similarly out of the way, so is table salt, Windex, Vitamin C, and belly button lint.
Everything, EVERYTHING is toxic in sufficient quantities. Toxicity is not a measure of whether or not something is dangerous. It is a measure of HOW MUCH of any product is required to cause problems. If it takes very, very little to cause harm, the product is highly toxic. Examples of this would be arsenic, rattlesnake venom, and Lady Gaga. If it takes a lot of something to cause problems, it has a very low level of toxicity. Examples would be milk, white bread, and orange spray tan slop.
In pesticide production, first we need to establish how much of a product is needed to cause the harm intended. Let's not forget that the whole point of spraying an insecticide is to kill critters. We need to determine which products have the right level of toxicity for the target pest, and how much of the product is needed to actually kill them without killing the plants or the homeowners, or any other non-target living things. Let's take it a step further and imagine that the pesticide companies might enjoy repeat business. For this, they may wish to create products that WHEN USED PROPERLY do not cause sudden hair loss, blindness, spontaneous farts, gender reversal, and cancer.
Now, they have settled on a specific chemical that they have studied and understand. It takes 3 tablespoons of the concentrated active ingredient to kill all the bugs in a 5,000 sq ft lawn. If you think this through, you may come to the same inevitable conclusion that chemical manufacturers came to a few decades ago. How do you evenly spread 3 tablespoons over an area that large?
To adequately spray that over 5,000 square feet, you'd need about 5 - 10 gallons of mixed product. This means that you need to dilute (mix) the 3 tablespoons into 5-10 gallons, and THEN spray it evenly around the yard.
Hmm, what homeowner wants to go buy a 10 gallon drum of mixed pesticide? I'm guessing not many. What homeowner wants to handle 3 tablespoons of a toxic insecticide? Probably not many. So here's an idea.... How about we mix that 3 tablespoons into about a quart of oil, thereby reducing the toxicity of the mix to about 5% of what it was? People can take that home, further add 5-10 gallons of water from a hose and spray it out onto the yard to kill the bugs. You have now effectively gotten those 3 tablespoons from the lab onto the appropriate area of yard by using a solvent like oil as a carrier. It knocks down the toxicity significantly for safer and more effective handling and allows it to be sold at market in a practical way.
Pesticides are labelled as toxic and cautions are given because they are toxic and you should be careful. When used appropriately and carefully, they can be of great benefit. Just as you shouldn't eat an entire bottle of vitamin C for breakfast, nor should you handle pesticides in a manner not intended.
That all said, Mike Adams literally jumps to the ridiculous conclusion that it's the oil that's "toxic." There's seriously no explanation given other than that these products contain oil and they are toxic. Um, Mike? There's another little thing on the label called "Active Ingredient." That's the toxic stuff. The canola oil is just fine.
Where's my big check from Wesson?
Thursday, June 30, 2011
Tuesday, June 14, 2011
The Mansion on the End of the Street
When I grew up, there was a mansion on the end of our street. It was odd because we lived in a distinctly middle class rural area. There were lots of trees & woods. Our dads taught us how to hunt deer and turkey. There was a community swimming pool, but it wasn’t very pretty; lots of concrete filled with water. The mansion had a pool with waterfalls and plants growing around it. It actually snaked around the backyard to simulate a realistic body of natural water. There were also tennis courts, baseball fields, and an arcade in the basement.
The mansion was owned by a reclusive and eccentric billionaire. He didn’t like spending time with other people, so he purposely had the mansion built in an unassuming town like ours, hidden away in a thick cover of trees. The trees were so thick in fact that you couldn’t see the mansion from the street, nor could you access it by driveway. He didn’t want deliverymen or mailmen or Jehovah’s witnesses to find it and bother him, so he only came in and out via helicopter, and only in the middle of the night during thunderstorms to hide the sound of the helicopter.
Jared was the one kid on the street who had seen and spent time at the house and he loved telling us about all the incredibly cool stuff. He had walked through the woods one day looking for deer and finally came across the mansion. He said it was better and bigger than any we had ever seen in books or movies, but the trek through the woods to get there was so convoluted that it was too dangerous to try to find it. He had simply gotten lucky. In fact, he was being chased by a mama Grizzly when he came out of the woods into the clearing in the back yard at which point a security guard shot the bear, saving Jared. The owner insisted that he be brought home in a helicopter so he wouldn’t get lost in the woods on the way out. He was a nice old man, just kind of quirky.
Before sending Jared off, the man showed him around the mansion and even let him swim in the pool before feeding him the best cheeseburger he had ever had. He also made Jared a promise. He wanted to leave the mansion to the kids in the neighborhood as a cool hangout. He would be leaving soon and he had made arrangements for the staff to stay on and a safe but hidden passageway through the woods to be built. It would be happening someday soon. It was only for us kids.
Jared became the contact and we would meet at a neighborhood clubhouse each weekend one morning to get updates as to how the passageway construction was going. The man had given Jared a walkie talkie that he communicated through and Jared checked in each week for updates. After a few weeks, the man started to have cold feet and wondered if the kids in the neighborhood would truly appreciate this wonderful gift. After all, what kids in the world had their very own luxury mansion to go hang out at away from any parental supervision? The gift was immeasurable and he wanted to be sure we all truly appreciated it. Jared solemnly passed along the man’s concerns and we lamented the potential loss of this ultimate playground before we even had it to enjoy.
We begged Jared to ask the man how we could prove that we appreciated it. He agreed and went home with the promise to make contact that week and tell us what the man said. We begged Jared to bring the walkie talkie the next week so we could talk to the man ourselves. He said he would.
The next week came and Jared explained that the man did not want to talk to all of us, but just wanted to have Jared as the middle man. In fact, he promised to shut down all construction and communication if the walkie talkie was ever even seen by another neighborhood kid.
After some pondering the man had told Jared that while he obviously didn’t need the money, he needed to see that we were all committed to appreciating this wonderful gift. To show this, we each needed to bring Jared a dime each weekend. Since most of us got a dollar a week allowance, ten cents didn’t seem so bad. Jared would drop all the dimes in a hidden box at the edge of the woods. The man’s guard would pick up the dimes and count them to determine if there were enough kids interested in the completion of the passageway. Jared had to sneak out of his house in the middle of the night to make the drops so that nobody could see where he brought the dimes. He told us all about these midnight runs and we held our breaths imagining how exhilarating and scary they must have been.
We happily handed over the dimes to Jared and most of us barely slept the next week as we awaited the potential news of the completion of the passageway. The next meeting came and Jared announced that the old man was happy with the dimes and intended to continue construction but he needed to make sure we weren’t selfish. We needed to share this wonderful luck with as many kids as possible and he would know how many kids were committed by the numbers of dimes in the box each week. He even generously threw in 5 of his own dimes to get it started. We eagerly went out to tell our school friends from other neighborhoods. We brought in other excited kids to hear of the good news and share in our good fortunes. Many of us even matched Jared’s 5 dimes to make it seem as though there were even more kids. After a few weeks Jared announced that the man was so pleased thus far that he actually had given Jared a gift of a new dirt bike to show how happy he was with Jared’s hard work. Jared proudly showed it off and we all marveled at the generosity and kindness of the old man. Our determination doubled and we all began pitching in most of our dollar allowances while recruiting even more friends to join in the project. Any day now, we would have it all.
The man’s gifts to Jared became more generous, further proof of his kindness and commitment to us kids. We couldn’t believe the good luck we had to have such a kind soul in our midst.
Finally, disaster struck. Jared’s dad was transferred to another location across the country and they had to move. Jared begged the billionaire to let him choose another child as the contact, but the man insisted that construction of the passageway was nearly complete. He only needed one final show of commitment from the neighborhood kids to convince him to finish it. Construction would be done exactly one week after Jared left and we would each receive a package in the mail with directions to the passageway entrance and a key to the door. Of course, all the kids needed to be serious and appreciative, so we each needed to show our appreciation in the form of as many dimes as we could hold in one hand without spilling. Jimmy Elsinore only pitched in a few dimes. We all complained to Jimmy that it wouldn’t be enough and the man would get angry, but he cried that it was all he had. A few kids even went to get extra dimes to compensate and we hoped and hoped that the man wouldn’t notice that Jimmy wasn’t as serious as the rest of us clearly were. We weren.t optimistic though. You don't get to be a billionaire in a mansion without knowing things like this.
I’m embarrassed to say that I stole several dollars from my mom’s wallet to get enough dimes to fill my hand. I knew she’d understand though, if only I could tell her of the wonderful fortune that awaited. Unfortunately, the man forbade any discussion with parents.
Jared and his family moved. We all waited. The man must have noticed Jimmy's shortfall. We had hoped he wouldn’t notice, but he must have. He must have.
The mansion was owned by a reclusive and eccentric billionaire. He didn’t like spending time with other people, so he purposely had the mansion built in an unassuming town like ours, hidden away in a thick cover of trees. The trees were so thick in fact that you couldn’t see the mansion from the street, nor could you access it by driveway. He didn’t want deliverymen or mailmen or Jehovah’s witnesses to find it and bother him, so he only came in and out via helicopter, and only in the middle of the night during thunderstorms to hide the sound of the helicopter.
Jared was the one kid on the street who had seen and spent time at the house and he loved telling us about all the incredibly cool stuff. He had walked through the woods one day looking for deer and finally came across the mansion. He said it was better and bigger than any we had ever seen in books or movies, but the trek through the woods to get there was so convoluted that it was too dangerous to try to find it. He had simply gotten lucky. In fact, he was being chased by a mama Grizzly when he came out of the woods into the clearing in the back yard at which point a security guard shot the bear, saving Jared. The owner insisted that he be brought home in a helicopter so he wouldn’t get lost in the woods on the way out. He was a nice old man, just kind of quirky.
Before sending Jared off, the man showed him around the mansion and even let him swim in the pool before feeding him the best cheeseburger he had ever had. He also made Jared a promise. He wanted to leave the mansion to the kids in the neighborhood as a cool hangout. He would be leaving soon and he had made arrangements for the staff to stay on and a safe but hidden passageway through the woods to be built. It would be happening someday soon. It was only for us kids.
Jared became the contact and we would meet at a neighborhood clubhouse each weekend one morning to get updates as to how the passageway construction was going. The man had given Jared a walkie talkie that he communicated through and Jared checked in each week for updates. After a few weeks, the man started to have cold feet and wondered if the kids in the neighborhood would truly appreciate this wonderful gift. After all, what kids in the world had their very own luxury mansion to go hang out at away from any parental supervision? The gift was immeasurable and he wanted to be sure we all truly appreciated it. Jared solemnly passed along the man’s concerns and we lamented the potential loss of this ultimate playground before we even had it to enjoy.
We begged Jared to ask the man how we could prove that we appreciated it. He agreed and went home with the promise to make contact that week and tell us what the man said. We begged Jared to bring the walkie talkie the next week so we could talk to the man ourselves. He said he would.
The next week came and Jared explained that the man did not want to talk to all of us, but just wanted to have Jared as the middle man. In fact, he promised to shut down all construction and communication if the walkie talkie was ever even seen by another neighborhood kid.
After some pondering the man had told Jared that while he obviously didn’t need the money, he needed to see that we were all committed to appreciating this wonderful gift. To show this, we each needed to bring Jared a dime each weekend. Since most of us got a dollar a week allowance, ten cents didn’t seem so bad. Jared would drop all the dimes in a hidden box at the edge of the woods. The man’s guard would pick up the dimes and count them to determine if there were enough kids interested in the completion of the passageway. Jared had to sneak out of his house in the middle of the night to make the drops so that nobody could see where he brought the dimes. He told us all about these midnight runs and we held our breaths imagining how exhilarating and scary they must have been.
We happily handed over the dimes to Jared and most of us barely slept the next week as we awaited the potential news of the completion of the passageway. The next meeting came and Jared announced that the old man was happy with the dimes and intended to continue construction but he needed to make sure we weren’t selfish. We needed to share this wonderful luck with as many kids as possible and he would know how many kids were committed by the numbers of dimes in the box each week. He even generously threw in 5 of his own dimes to get it started. We eagerly went out to tell our school friends from other neighborhoods. We brought in other excited kids to hear of the good news and share in our good fortunes. Many of us even matched Jared’s 5 dimes to make it seem as though there were even more kids. After a few weeks Jared announced that the man was so pleased thus far that he actually had given Jared a gift of a new dirt bike to show how happy he was with Jared’s hard work. Jared proudly showed it off and we all marveled at the generosity and kindness of the old man. Our determination doubled and we all began pitching in most of our dollar allowances while recruiting even more friends to join in the project. Any day now, we would have it all.
The man’s gifts to Jared became more generous, further proof of his kindness and commitment to us kids. We couldn’t believe the good luck we had to have such a kind soul in our midst.
Finally, disaster struck. Jared’s dad was transferred to another location across the country and they had to move. Jared begged the billionaire to let him choose another child as the contact, but the man insisted that construction of the passageway was nearly complete. He only needed one final show of commitment from the neighborhood kids to convince him to finish it. Construction would be done exactly one week after Jared left and we would each receive a package in the mail with directions to the passageway entrance and a key to the door. Of course, all the kids needed to be serious and appreciative, so we each needed to show our appreciation in the form of as many dimes as we could hold in one hand without spilling. Jimmy Elsinore only pitched in a few dimes. We all complained to Jimmy that it wouldn’t be enough and the man would get angry, but he cried that it was all he had. A few kids even went to get extra dimes to compensate and we hoped and hoped that the man wouldn’t notice that Jimmy wasn’t as serious as the rest of us clearly were. We weren.t optimistic though. You don't get to be a billionaire in a mansion without knowing things like this.
I’m embarrassed to say that I stole several dollars from my mom’s wallet to get enough dimes to fill my hand. I knew she’d understand though, if only I could tell her of the wonderful fortune that awaited. Unfortunately, the man forbade any discussion with parents.
Jared and his family moved. We all waited. The man must have noticed Jimmy's shortfall. We had hoped he wouldn’t notice, but he must have. He must have.
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