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1000 results for “Meat_Bucket”
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#Sidecar
My personal recipe is:
2 oz Pierre Ferrand 1840
3/4 oz Cointreau
3/4 oz lemon juice
1/4 oz @dsoneil’s caramel syrup
2 drops saline
#Cocktail #Cocktails #Cognac #Cointreau -
Kicking off my holiday Sunday evening with a round of Double Barrel Winchesters.
#Cocktail #Cocktails #Gin #Tiki #BrianMiller
https://punchdrink.com/recipes/double-barrel-winchester/ -
Kicking of my holiday Sunday evening with a round of Double Barrel Winchesters.
#Cocktail #Cocktails #Gin #Tiki #BrianMiller
https://punchdrink.com/recipes/double-barrel-winchester/ -
Kicking of my holiday Sunday evening with a round of Double Barrel Winchesters.
#Cocktail #Cocktails #Gin #Tiki #BrianMiller
https://punchdrink.com/recipes/double-barrel-winchester/ -
Kicking off my holiday Sunday evening with a round of Double Barrel Winchesters.
#Cocktail #Cocktails #Gin #Tiki #BrianMiller
https://punchdrink.com/recipes/double-barrel-winchester/ -
Nightcap is a #Stinger tonight. This one with Pierre Ferrand 1840, and a mix of Get 31 and Branca Menta.
Good, but I think I prefer just the Get 31 if the ratios are right.
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A little farm and garden update for the homies:
One of my favorite things about the #farm is that every day is pretty much a different experiment.
The mason jar filled with flowers is my attempt at making lilac oil using the #enfleurage technique. After steeping for a few weeks, it should be ready to go.
The meat photo? #capicolla! It's going to be vacuum sealed for a week, and then it shall go hang in my cellar with the #bresaola I've had hanging for two weeks now.
And the garden-- I've got everything in this photo planted except those buckets along the back wall. I'm building a raised bed for watermelons back there, but right now the buckets are back there as storage because I don't know what I'm going to use them for (or plant in them) yet. They'll probably end up going between the back fence and the big bed in the middle. If you have any ideas, let me know!
The next step aside from the watermelon bed is to finish laying cardboard out to kill weeds, and then cover it with wood chips and level everything, so it doesn't look, well, like it does in the photo.
Also, if you havent figured it out yet... I'm in my cottage core era now.
#gardening #gardens #homestead #homesteading #homesteader #dailyexperiments #experiments #experimenting #foodscience #food #selfreliant #selfreliance #selfsufficient #selfsufficiency #howdoesyourgardengrow #foodforest #wisconsin #southeasternwisconsin #farmtotable #healthy #growyourownproduce #growyourownfood #knowwhatsinyourfood #supportfarmers #supportyourlocalfarmer #supportyourlocalfarmers #federated #fediverse #outdoors
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A little farm and garden update for the homies:
One of my favorite things about the #farm is that every day is pretty much a different experiment.
The mason jar filled with flowers is my attempt at making lilac oil using the #enfleurage technique. After steeping for a few weeks, it should be ready to go.
The meat photo? #capicolla! It's going to be vacuum sealed for a week, and then it shall go hang in my cellar with the #bresaola I've had hanging for two weeks now.
And the garden-- I've got everything in this photo planted except those buckets along the back wall. I'm building a raised bed for watermelons back there, but right now the buckets are back there as storage because I don't know what I'm going to use them for (or plant in them) yet. They'll probably end up going between the back fence and the big bed in the middle. If you have any ideas, let me know!
The next step aside from the watermelon bed is to finish laying cardboard out to kill weeds, and then cover it with wood chips and level everything, so it doesn't look, well, like it does in the photo.
Also, if you havent figured it out yet... I'm in my cottage core era now.
#gardening #gardens #homestead #homesteading #homesteader #dailyexperiments #experiments #experimenting #foodscience #food #selfreliant #selfreliance #selfsufficient #selfsufficiency #howdoesyourgardengrow #foodforest #wisconsin #southeasternwisconsin #farmtotable #healthy #growyourownproduce #growyourownfood #knowwhatsinyourfood #supportfarmers #supportyourlocalfarmer #supportyourlocalfarmers #federated #fediverse #outdoors
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So this is exciting. I still have to put on the brakes, though. No more pushing. I need to back off at the first sign of weariness, even if something is fun.
My last gauntlet was in Jan this year.
Sure, things eased up after I left my mom. But I'd completely upended my life. New state, new everything. Moving into an old RV that needed weatherization (still does), organization, off-grid learning how to cook and clean and shit without running water, where to take the trash, how to deal with meat waste in grizzly country, plus digging myself out of the hole I've been in since before I started caretaking my mom. That and keeping my client happy while operating at 20-25% of my peak mental and physical capacity. I was also in a scarcity panic, thinking the world was going to end a little faster than it has, and stuck in the emergency-mode my mom had me in for two years. So some of what I took on as urgent wasn't really needed.
So 2025 was "better," as I was finally digging upward instead of down. But it was still really rough. Hence that final burnout in June. BUT, that was my LAST burnout. Whereas before I was burning out 3-4 times per year and never fully recovering each time.
Once winter finally set in, the snowshed was up and the insulation around the skirt, nothing left to do by hibernate. But then right after Christmas, I put my back and hip out super seriously, and I was right back in hell. I could barely walk, and shitting on the bucket toilet (with IBS) would give me crumpled-over spasms that were difficult to stop in such a tiny space. It took all month of running to the chiropractor and some seriously dark depths to work through that.
🧵
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So this is exciting. I still have to put on the brakes, though. No more pushing. I need to back off at the first sign of weariness, even if something is fun.
My last gauntlet was in Jan this year.
Sure, things eased up after I left my mom. But I'd completely upended my life. New state, new everything. Moving into an old RV that needed weatherization (still does), organization, off-grid learning how to cook and clean and shit without running water, where to take the trash, how to deal with meat waste in grizzly country, plus digging myself out of the hole I've been in since before I started caretaking my mom. That and keeping my client happy while operating at 20-25% of my peak mental and physical capacity. I was also in a scarcity panic, thinking the world was going to end a little faster than it has, and stuck in the emergency-mode my mom had me in for two years. So some of what I took on as urgent wasn't really needed.
So 2025 was "better," as I was finally digging upward instead of down. But it was still really rough. Hence that final burnout in June. BUT, that was my LAST burnout. Whereas before I was burning out 3-4 times per year and never fully recovering each time.
Once winter finally set in, the snowshed was up and the insulation around the skirt, nothing left to do by hibernate. But then right after Christmas, I put my back and hip out super seriously, and I was right back in hell. I could barely walk, and shitting on the bucket toilet (with IBS) would give me crumpled-over spasms that were difficult to stop in such a tiny space. It took all month of running to the chiropractor and some seriously dark depths to work through that.
🧵
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Candarian – Trepanación Review By TymeMe Saco Un Ojo Records has fast become one of my favorite death metal labels, signing bands whose music sates my sickened sweet tooth and reeks with the dirty, rotten, filthy, stinking, rich stench of death! Warranted tags that also describe Costa Rica’s newest OSDM export and Me Saco Un Ojo rosterlings, Candarian. Inspired by early 90s death metal, guitarist Christopher G. De Haan and bassist/vocalist José Pablo Phillips (Astriferous) birthed Candarian in 2020, gigging extensively throughout their local scene on the strength of a handful of songs that would eventually end up on their 2022 demo, Stagnant Livor Mortis—a meaty morsel of moldy maleficence. Four years further down the cemetery path with tandem label partner Memento Mori in tow and that charmingly grotesque Grant Hatfield cover art in hand, Candarian prepare to dump their debut bucket of blood, Trepanación, on you, and the heads of unsuspecting prom queens everywhere. Having precariously lived through the original 90s death metal wave, I was curious to see whether Candarian would have any fresh ideas to offer. Is Trepanación the death shroud I’ll cozily wrap myself up in on a cold night, or will it have me praying for someone to strap me down and drill a hole in my skull, too?
Candarian peddle in plague-laden, gore-soaked, horror-themed OSDM, with Trepanación serving up steaming bowls of slop bloated with chunks of Incantation and Autopsy. Not entirely original perhaps, but still not a bad place from which to draw inspiration, especially if well executed. Which Candarian does, sans feats of technical wizardry, as De Haan and fellow string-slayer Felipe Tencio (Astriferous) opt instead to perform ear-hole surgery with a Golgothan bag full of rusty, tremoloed riffs, serrated squealies, and mangled, meat-hammered chugs (“Altars and Ancestors”). On drums stretched taut with human skin, blunt force butcher Pablo Umaña keeps the Candarian brain-drill from boring any errant head holes while Phillips, whose bass lines lurk and gurgle below like blood-clogged lungs (“Psychosurgery Ecstasy”) and whose cavernous bellows strike a very John McEntee chord, rounds out the cadaverous quartet. It’s clear these Ticos know death metal.
Candarian muscles their way through Trepanación with biceps built on strongwriting. Shifts in tone and pace within tracks are written with alacrity and performed with a transitional maturity that never feels forced or too abrupt. Basking in beams of light cast by “The Ibex Moon,”1 the ghoulishly fun “Zombie Miscarriage” morphs smoothly from down-tuned tremolo-monstrous riffs over lumbering double-bass rolls to drunkenly swerving doom chords and mid-paced chug ‘n squeals, all punctuated by Phillips’ rancorous roars. Another limb retaining some viably meaty moments is “Relinquished Viscera,” its sluggish, Morbificated opening riffs acquiescing easily to speedier harmonic leads and oft-used pus-pinching harmonics. The last of my odious shoutouts goes to album closer “Vilipendio del Cadaver”2 which sweats Mental Funeral-filled beads of ichor as it trudges and stomps a path filled with doomy goodness, Sabbathian trills, and a swingy section that could give “In the Grip of Winter” a run for its money.
Candarian hit the nail on the head of 90s death metal. Paying tribute to their influences without sounding overtly derivative and accomplishing this through a production that maintains just the right amount of rawness to stay menacing without devolving into the overly cloudy, reverberant depths of early cavern-core. Manageably brief, with a runtime barely cresting 33 minutes, Trepanación tends to feel longer than it is, thanks in part to all the inter-song twists and turns and to four of the seven tracks exceeding the 5-minute mark. Not a major knock, but it was something I felt on all my play-throughs. Working most against them, without having done anything egregiously bad or exceptionally good, is Candarian’s throwback “no more but no less” approach, as this can only take them so far. Which also reinforces guidance I once received from one wizened, hairy primate related to scoring death metal of this ilk.If you’re ever in the mood for better than passable, old-school, filthy death metal, the Me Saco Un Ojo roster—Cryptworm, Invictus, Phrenelith, Ossuary, Diabolizer and many more among them—does not disappoint. Candarian, a band I’ll certainly be keeping tabs on, is another fine addition, and you could do a lot worse than spend an afternoon or three getting skull fucked by Trepanación.
Rating: 3.0/5.0
#2026 #30 #Apr26 #Autopsy #Candarian #CostaRicanMetal #DeathMetal #Incantation #MeSacoUnOjoRecords #MementoMori #Morbific #Review #Trepanación
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 320kbps mp3
Label: Me Saco Un Ojo | Memento Mori
Websites: Bandcamp | Instagram
Releases Worldwide: April 27th, 2026 -
Candarian – Trepanación Review By TymeMe Saco Un Ojo Records has fast become one of my favorite death metal labels, signing bands whose music sates my sickened sweet tooth and reeks with the dirty, rotten, filthy, stinking, rich stench of death! Warranted tags that also describe Costa Rica’s newest OSDM export and Me Saco Un Ojo rosterlings, Candarian. Inspired by early 90s death metal, guitarist Christopher G. De Haan and bassist/vocalist José Pablo Phillips (Astriferous) birthed Candarian in 2020, gigging extensively throughout their local scene on the strength of a handful of songs that would eventually end up on their 2022 demo, Stagnant Livor Mortis—a meaty morsel of moldy maleficence. Four years further down the cemetery path with tandem label partner Memento Mori in tow and that charmingly grotesque Grant Hatfield cover art in hand, Candarian prepare to dump their debut bucket of blood, Trepanación, on you, and the heads of unsuspecting prom queens everywhere. Having precariously lived through the original 90s death metal wave, I was curious to see whether Candarian would have any fresh ideas to offer. Is Trepanación the death shroud I’ll cozily wrap myself up in on a cold night, or will it have me praying for someone to strap me down and drill a hole in my skull, too?
Candarian peddle in plague-laden, gore-soaked, horror-themed OSDM, with Trepanación serving up steaming bowls of slop bloated with chunks of Incantation and Autopsy. Not entirely original perhaps, but still not a bad place from which to draw inspiration, especially if well executed. Which Candarian does, sans feats of technical wizardry, as De Haan and fellow string-slayer Felipe Tencio (Astriferous) opt instead to perform ear-hole surgery with a Golgothan bag full of rusty, tremoloed riffs, serrated squealies, and mangled, meat-hammered chugs (“Altars and Ancestors”). On drums stretched taut with human skin, blunt force butcher Pablo Umaña keeps the Candarian brain-drill from boring any errant head holes while Phillips, whose bass lines lurk and gurgle below like blood-clogged lungs (“Psychosurgery Ecstasy”) and whose cavernous bellows strike a very John McEntee chord, rounds out the cadaverous quartet. It’s clear these Ticos know death metal.
Candarian muscles their way through Trepanación with biceps built on strongwriting. Shifts in tone and pace within tracks are written with alacrity and performed with a transitional maturity that never feels forced or too abrupt. Basking in beams of light cast by “The Ibex Moon,”1 the ghoulishly fun “Zombie Miscarriage” morphs smoothly from down-tuned tremolo-monstrous riffs over lumbering double-bass rolls to drunkenly swerving doom chords and mid-paced chug ‘n squeals, all punctuated by Phillips’ rancorous roars. Another limb retaining some viably meaty moments is “Relinquished Viscera,” its sluggish, Morbificated opening riffs acquiescing easily to speedier harmonic leads and oft-used pus-pinching harmonics. The last of my odious shoutouts goes to album closer “Vilipendio del Cadaver”2 which sweats Mental Funeral-filled beads of ichor as it trudges and stomps a path filled with doomy goodness, Sabbathian trills, and a swingy section that could give “In the Grip of Winter” a run for its money.
Candarian hit the nail on the head of 90s death metal. Paying tribute to their influences without sounding overtly derivative and accomplishing this through a production that maintains just the right amount of rawness to stay menacing without devolving into the overly cloudy, reverberant depths of early cavern-core. Manageably brief, with a runtime barely cresting 33 minutes, Trepanación tends to feel longer than it is, thanks in part to all the inter-song twists and turns and to four of the seven tracks exceeding the 5-minute mark. Not a major knock, but it was something I felt on all my play-throughs. Working most against them, without having done anything egregiously bad or exceptionally good, is Candarian’s throwback “no more but no less” approach, as this can only take them so far. Which also reinforces guidance I once received from one wizened, hairy primate related to scoring death metal of this ilk.If you’re ever in the mood for better than passable, old-school, filthy death metal, the Me Saco Un Ojo roster—Cryptworm, Invictus, Phrenelith, Ossuary, Diabolizer and many more among them—does not disappoint. Candarian, a band I’ll certainly be keeping tabs on, is another fine addition, and you could do a lot worse than spend an afternoon or three getting skull fucked by Trepanación.
Rating: 3.0/5.0
#2026 #30 #Apr26 #Autopsy #Candarian #CostaRicanMetal #DeathMetal #Incantation #MeSacoUnOjoRecords #MementoMori #Morbific #Review #Trepanación
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 320kbps mp3
Label: Me Saco Un Ojo | Memento Mori
Websites: Bandcamp | Instagram
Releases Worldwide: April 27th, 2026 -
Can You Be Free If You Can’t Leave? For Non Expats.
Lived Experiences
A few years ago, I had the life-changing pleasure of visiting Cuba. I was first introduced to African Traditional Religions (ATRs) in Atlanta, Georgia, and delved into them deeper after moving to South Florida. That spiritual path is what ultimately led me on this trek to offer assistance to the people there. Actually, they ended up helping me.
What I found was totally unexpected. The Cuban people took me straight back in time to my ancestry. Somehow, isolated from the hyper-commodification of the West, they had preserved the Yoruban language as well as the liturgical terms of Bakongo traditional religions (Palo). More than that, they had preserved a deep sense of community, and they understood what maturity really is.
On the streets, old cars I wasn’t even familiar with drove by quietly. Many women walked to their destinations, while others piled onto the backs of flatbed trucks acting as municipal transportation. In Cuba, you almost have to be a mechanic with your own personal gas supply just to keep a vehicle running.
Numerous garlic and onion vendors lined the streets, a stark contrast to the massive Western supermarkets; here, there are no pantries overflowing with imported spices. Yet, the atmosphere was profoundly quiet and peaceful.
I watched a group of men—who appeared to be prisoners—working together to cut grass with machetes. Yes, machetes. Oil and gasoline were far too precious to waste on lawnmowers, but the grass looked as if it had been manicured by an expensive machine. I stared at the borders of the lawns, marvelling at how they got the edges to look so perfectly trimmed without a single weed eater in sight.
That evening, I was given my portion of hot water to bathe. The water was poured into a single bucket, and I proceeded to get into a bathtub lined with beautiful royal blue tile to clean myself. I was warned explicitly to be careful not to drink the tap water. I turned on the shower nozzle just to check — only a trickle of water so the bucket I used. Outside, clothing hung on lines at every single residence, catching the island breeze to dry. The Cuban people are are incredibly clean.
The next morning, the rhythm of the neighborhood began early. Everyone hosed down their front porches. Old-style, heavy plastic telephones—the exact kind my grandma used to have—rang inside the houses as neighbors and family checked on one another. I was offered a small cup of Cuban coffee poured from a standard thermos, the kind most Americans fill up to drink entirely by themselves on the way to work. This thermos, however, was meant for at least twelve adults to share.
Taking a walk, I marveled at the vibrant, wild hibiscus blooming against the cracked concrete. I listened to the hum of people chatting over strong coffee and Cuban cheese sandwiches. The sandwiches didn’t have a speck of meat in them, but somehow, they tasted incredibly rich, as if they did. I walked past an old school that looked completely abandoned and boarded up from the outside. Yet, people were quietly filing in and out, carrying bags they had brought from home to collect their rations of rice and beans. (There was so much beer and rice offered to me that first day that I couldn’t even finish dinner; I was completely full, though the food was very good and served with love and hospitality.)
An attractive black woman was walking home in the blazing sun—spotless, content, carrying her portion of food. Her husband waited for her at the front of their home, which was secured by fencing, as so many properties were. Many of the yards had small Chihuahuas standing guard, and you could hear the low, quiet murmur of family conversations floating through the air. The lack of abundant meat meant the local diet was heavy on starches, which unfortunately bred high rates of diabetes, though the constant walking and physical exercise clearly helped stave off the worst effects of the high glucose levels.
Looking closely at the men, I noticed an intense, quiet seriousness about each of them. Looking into their eyes, I knew instantly: this is a man who is prepared to die for his family.
The next day, we held a spiritual celebration, and the entire community gathered. Despite my many questions, they let me know subtly that they did not want to mention Fidel Castro’s name, but it wasn’t out of simple disdain; it was something far more complex, a heavy acknowledgment of their history. They talked openly about the desperate need for healthier foods, and a few mentioned wanting to go to other places, but most possessed a grounded, sober knowledge that they would never leave this mountainous island. I was shocked by the sheer density of Black people there. It quickly became clear that they, of all Cubans, were the least likely to be approved for legal expatriation. Yet, despite the material scarcity, the people rejoiced. They were of a completely different quality, a different mind—possessing an admirable, hard-won maturity.
Upon returning to the United States, with its sprawling big-box stores, gas-hogging SUVs, and endless gas stations, I sat down and cried. I cried because, in my opinion, the people of America have become soft and fat, like the spoiled children of a mafia boss—competing endlessly on social media and laughing mindlessly in amusement parks.
In later years, I visited a small, remote island in the Bahamas and found a different version of the same systemic scar. I couldn’t even find a basic fingernail file in the local stores. The southern part of that island was rife with luxury resorts and exclusive gated communities built for wealthy Americans. Meanwhile, I looked at the locals and wondered what would happen to the natives if a crisis hit—they didn’t even have a functioning fire truck to put out a house fire. What had happened to completely stifle and cripple these Caribbean nations?
The Historical Blueprint of Subversion: Over 80 Systemic Displacements
Some say, “why can’t these people fix their own countries?” The stagnation, infrastructure deficiencies, and enforced material deprivation observed across the Caribbean and the global south are not accidental structural failures; they are the direct outcomes of a systematic, centuries-long foreign policy playbook. Over its roughly 250-year history, the United States government has actively interfered with, destabilized, or orchestrated regime changes in between 72 and over 80 sovereign nations globally. This institutionalized strategy relies on a wide array of methods—from covert intelligence operations and the funding of domestic insurrections to crippling economic embargoes, trade isolations, and direct military interventions. By actively dismantling the political and economic sovereignty of these nations to assert global dominance, this policy has penalized societies for attempting to govern themselves independent of Washington’s financial and corporate sphere, trapping regional populations in artificial scarcity.
The table below documents the instances in history where the U.S. government bypassed proxy warfare to execute the direct capture, arrest, forced removal, or immediate political displacement of a foreign head of state or sovereign leader:
NameCountryDateSummary ReasoningQueen LiliʻuokalaniHawaiiJanuary 1893Displaced under immediate duress by landing U.S. Marines to protect American corporate and sugar monopolies.President Francisco I. MaderoMexicoFebruary 1913Arrested inside the National Palace via a coup conspiracy explicitly coordinated by the U.S. Ambassador.General Manuel NoriegaPanamaDecember 1989Extracted via full-scale military invasion and flown to Florida to face federal drug trafficking charges.President Saddam HusseinIraqDecember 2003Tracked to an underground hideout by U.S. special operations forces and held in military custody following the 2003 invasion.President Jean-Bertrand AristideHaitiFebruary 2004Forcibly removed from his residence by armed U.S. security personnel and flown into foreign exile.President Nicolás MaduroVenezuelaJanuary 2026Seized from his quarters in Caracas during a direct U.S. military raid and extracted to face federal charges in New York.The Reality of the Internal Sanctuary
When the macro-environment feels like a playground of immaturity, a distinct, deliberate strategy emerges: the choice to stay and turn entirely inward. Throughout history, global thinkers, writers, and philosophers outside the Western mainstream have documented this exact phenomenon, proving that choosing not to expatriate is an active, strategic reclamation of sovereignty within the walls of your own home.
1. Insilio: The Latin American Strategy of Internal Exile
In Latin American history, particularly during eras of intense political decay and societal instability, intellectuals developed a vital distinction between exilio (fleeing the country) and insilio (internal exile). The renowned Uruguayan essayist and poet Mario Benedetti wrote extensively about this psychological boundary. When a person cannot or will not leave their homeland because the foreign alternatives present their own structural or discriminatory hurdles, they practice insilio. Benedetti noted that internal exile is a fierce, deliberate act of cultural and spiritual preservation. You refuse to let the outside society alter your standards of dignity. Instead, you build an unyielding psychological border at your front door, maintaining your values, intellect, and peace completely out of reach of the public square.
2. L’arrière-boutique: The French “Back Shop” Philosophy
During the 16th century, France was fractured by brutal religious conflicts and massive social breakdown. In response to this chaotic environment, the philosopher Michel de Montaigne conceptualized the ultimate home sanctuary. He argued that a mature individual must maintain a dual existence, coining the term l’arrière-boutique (the room behind the shop):
“We must reserve a back shop all our own, entirely free, in which to establish our true liberty and principal retreat and solitude.”
In this European tradition, navigating an immature or frustrating society requires treating the outside world as a mere transaction. You step onto the “playground” only to manage the mechanics of daily survival—running the business, paying the bills, interacting as necessity demands. But you reserve your true soul, your highest intellect, and your deep peace strictly for the back room, where the dominant culture has absolutely no jurisdiction.
3. Spatial Reclamation: Reclaiming Control in Post-Colonial Theory
When analyzing the modern exhaustion of navigating societies deeply impacted by colonialism and global power plays, contemporary spatial and post-colonial theorists highlight the profound political act of domestic reclamation. When the state, the economy, or the dominant public culture fails to offer a mature, dignified environment, individuals stop looking to the macro-system for fulfillment. Instead, they transform their immediate households into an unassailable fortress of survival. Within these fiercely guarded sanctuaries, the rules, values, and psychological noise of a hostile or broken system are completely suspended, allowing alternative, deeply personal standards of ancestral maturity and individual peace to thrive.
4. The Realism of “Más vale malo conocido…”
The decision to stay put is often guided by a cross-cultural piece of wisdom used daily across Spain and Latin America:
“Más vale malo conocido que bueno por conocer.”
(Better the bad that is known than the good yet to be known.)
Sociological frameworks tracking global migration patterns—such as studies out of the University of Salamanca—demonstrate that this maxim is a profound tool for psychological calculations. Choosing to deal with the “devil you know” is an acknowledgment of global realities. For many, navigating the domestic frustrations of a flawed system is a far more calculated, sustainable choice than exposing one’s peace to the chaotic, unknown dangers, economic isolation, and systemic discrimination of an unfamiliar foreign landscape.
Conclusion: An Indictment of Immaturity
This perspective is an unapologetic indictment against my own country’s leadership, born not out of a desire for its destruction, but from a profound exhaustion with its moral decay. Yet the U.S. has not banked on the resiliency of the foreigners affected by their regime.
Leadership has a direct impact on citizens. Many adults in America have become deeply immature, selfish, and coddled; they still throw volatile temper tantrums the moment they do not get their way. Fathers abandon their households and walk away from their biological children every single day—contrasting sharply with the men of oppressed nations who routinely risk their lives crossing treacherous oceans just to afford their families a future. In America more than half of all children will experience father absence at some point before the age 18.
I cannot fail to mention the systematic oppression and over-policing of people of color in America. According to the most recent comprehensive data from the U.S. Bureau of Justice Statistics (BJS), people of color make up approximately 69% of the total sentenced prison population in state and federal facilities and it is not because white people don’t commit crimes. It is because the judicial system is more lenient on them.
Adulthood is fundamentally stunted in this country, and that widespread psychological regression is precisely why the government is as fractured and toxic as it is. True change must happen, but until the macro-culture grows up, the only victory lies in mastering the fortress of your own home.
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Brunch, Garden, Mass, and H-Mart
The day started with a cozy brunch at home. I’ve mentioned before on Fridays we have Pizza Friday.
I always order my pizza from a local Italian market. They always use fresh ingredients and cook the pizza using a wood-burning oven. It’s the best fresh pizza I’ve ever had! 😋
You get an 11″ pizza with unlimited toppings for just $12! Great deal! I always order the meat lovers pizza with artichoke as an extra topping.
For brunch on the weekends, I like to have my favorite tea with a slice of my leftover pizza with a fried egg and honey drizzle on top. I put on my jazz playlist and just enjoy the vibes.
Last Saturday, I introduced my pizza brunch recreation to Travis and he was amazed at how delicious the leftover pizza tasted with fried egg.
“Yo! This is REALLY good!” he exclaimed. “How did you come up with this?” 😲🍕
A little work in the garden
We did a little work in the garden. I planted another sugar baby watermelon start, and Zaya (5) wanted to plant a cosmos flower seed in her little baby pot. 🥹🌸
This makes two sugar baby watermelon starts we are growing in the garden.
Zhen (13) chose the mini watermelon to grow because she LOVES watermelon. 🍉
I’m a little nervous about having enough space for the watermelon to vine, but I’ve been researching ways to grow vertically, so I think we can make it work! 🤞🏾😁
It looks like he’s smiling at me. 😄🐸Mr. Toad back again
And while I was tending to the patio garden, my little toad friend was hopping behind me. 😄🐸 It’s so cute because I often see this toad pop out when I am working in the garden.
It seems he was on his way to the garden section of our peppers and tomatoes. Lol 😅 That was perfect because some bugs have been hanging around the plants. 🪲
Mass and a quick stop at H-Mart
Later in the afternoon, we went to the Saturday vigil Mass.
Since Travis works six days a week, we have found going to Saturday Mass is a little easier on him. That way he can sleep in and fully rest on Sundays.
After Mass, we stopped by H-Mart to get lo mein noodles and a few other ingredients. I had a craving for homemade chicken lo mein and I wanted to cook it for dinner.
These Canton Style Egg Noodles are so easy to cook and the texture is perfect for my homemade stir-fry. 😋🍜I also saw these lo mein egg noodles. I’ve never cooked them before, so I thought I’d give it a try. 🍜The kids LOVE H-Mart! 😍 Every time we go, they always want to get ramyun and snacks. This time, they found K-Pop Demon Hunters snacks, so of course, we had to get it! 😂🫶🏾
What we bought at H-Mart…I love H-Mart because they sell so many varieties of noodles, rice, kimchi, and other unique foods that you can’t find at American supermarkets.
The kids wanted to check out the toy section (obviously lol), and they wanted us to buy something.
I told them to save up their allowance money so we can come back and they can buy the toy they really want to get. 🤓💡
Before leaving H-Mart, we played a game of Toy House—the claw machine game.
We didn’t win anything (does anyone ever win these games? 😏 lol), but it was still fun trying. 😊
💜 XO
Even the public library has seeds 😲🌿
The library offers a seed catalog, so I couldn’t pass it up! 😂
by JennJune 27, 2026Getting the garden ready for fall crops!
by JennJune 26, 2026Such a funny surprise—a toad swimming in our rainwater bucket. 🐸💦
by JennJune 25, 2026June 26, 2026 #brunch #church #cooking #DailyBlog #DailyLife #Family #FamilyTime #foodie #garden #gardening #Pizza #Shopping #SimpleLiving #SlowLiving #UrbanGarden -
Brunch, Garden, Mass, and H-Mart
The day started with a cozy brunch at home. I’ve mentioned before on Fridays we have Pizza Friday.
I always order my pizza from a local Italian market. They always use fresh ingredients and cook the pizza using a wood-burning oven. It’s the best fresh pizza I’ve ever had! 😋
You get an 11″ pizza with unlimited toppings for just $12! Great deal! I always order the meat lovers pizza with artichoke as an extra topping.
For brunch on the weekends, I like to have my favorite tea with a slice of my leftover pizza with a fried egg and honey drizzle on top. I put on my jazz playlist and just enjoy the vibes.
Last Saturday, I introduced my pizza brunch recreation to Travis and he was amazed at how delicious the leftover pizza tasted with fried egg.
“Yo! This is REALLY good!” he exclaimed. “How did you come up with this?” 😲🍕
A little work in the garden
We did a little work in the garden. I planted another sugar baby watermelon start, and Zaya (5) wanted to plant a cosmos flower seed in her little baby pot. 🥹🌸
This makes two sugar baby watermelon starts we are growing in the garden.
Zhen (13) chose the mini watermelon to grow because she LOVES watermelon. 🍉
I’m a little nervous about having enough space for the watermelon to vine, but I’ve been researching ways to grow vertically, so I think we can make it work! 🤞🏾😁
It looks like he’s smiling at me. 😄🐸Mr. Toad back again
And while I was tending to the patio garden, my little toad friend was hopping behind me. 😄🐸 It’s so cute because I often see this toad pop out when I am working in the garden.
It seems he was on his way to the garden section of our peppers and tomatoes. Lol 😅 That was perfect because some bugs have been hanging around the plants. 🪲
Mass and a quick stop at H-Mart
Later in the afternoon, we went to the Saturday vigil Mass.
Since Travis works six days a week, we have found going to Saturday Mass is a little easier on him. That way he can sleep in and fully rest on Sundays.
After Mass, we stopped by H-Mart to get lo mein noodles and a few other ingredients. I had a craving for homemade chicken lo mein and I wanted to cook it for dinner.
These Canton Style Egg Noodles are so easy to cook and the texture is perfect for my homemade stir-fry. 😋🍜I also saw these lo mein egg noodles. I’ve never cooked them before, so I thought I’d give it a try. 🍜The kids LOVE H-Mart! 😍 Every time we go, they always want to get ramyun and snacks. This time, they found K-Pop Demon Hunters snacks, so of course, we had to get it! 😂🫶🏾
What we bought at H-Mart…I love H-Mart because they sell so many varieties of noodles, rice, kimchi, and other unique foods that you can’t find at American supermarkets.
The kids wanted to check out the toy section (obviously lol), and they wanted us to buy something.
I told them to save up their allowance money so we can come back and they can buy the toy they really want to get. 🤓💡
Before leaving H-Mart, we played a game of Toy House—the claw machine game.
We didn’t win anything (does anyone ever win these games? 😏 lol), but it was still fun trying. 😊
💜 XO
Even the public library has seeds 😲🌿
The library offers a seed catalog, so I couldn’t pass it up! 😂
by JennJune 27, 2026Getting the garden ready for fall crops!
by JennJune 26, 2026Such a funny surprise—a toad swimming in our rainwater bucket. 🐸💦
by JennJune 25, 2026June 26, 2026 #brunch #church #cooking #DailyBlog #DailyLife #Family #FamilyTime #foodie #garden #gardening #Pizza #Shopping #SimpleLiving #SlowLiving #UrbanGarden -
LIVING NOW, PLANNING LATER: LESSONS FROM DIE WITH ZERO
I recently finished reading Die With Zero by Bill Perkins. The central idea is that the only guaranteed moment is the one you are living in right now, so the real question becomes: how do you maximize life, experiences, and finances in a way that still leaves your future self-supported?
It is a provocative idea because the tension between enjoying the present and preparing for the future is real and constant.
Over time, I’ve learned that for me, balance begins with understanding who you are, where you are, what you value, and how those values show up in your financial choices. When those pieces are unclear, any system, even the good ones, starts to crumble.
1. One Person’s Meat Is Another Person’s Poison
Many of us grow up in environments that blend shame, guilt, and unspoken expectations. These forces shape our relationship with money long before we ever earn a paycheque. When the messages around us tell us what we should want, how we should behave, or what a “responsible adult” spends on, it becomes difficult to know what we genuinely like, want, or value. This disconnection breaks our internal compass, leading to misalignment and autopilot habits we would never choose intentionally.
The first step in creating balance is naming without shame what a good life looks like for you. Not the version you think you should want, or the version your family, friends, or social media celebrate, but the one that fits your actual personality and priorities. The next step is accepting the cost of that vision.
Every meaningful life has a cost, financial or otherwise. When you accept those costs, you reduce the likelihood of reaching the end of life filled with regret about the things you never allowed yourself to do.
Ideally, you should look at your bank statement and clearly see your values reflected. Instead, many of us spend and save unintentionally. We follow generic financial scripts—save a million dollars, retire at sixty-five, invest aggressively, deny yourself now and reward yourself later—without pausing to evaluate whether those goals align with the life we want.
Consider:
• How would I live if I had one day left? One month? One year? Twenty years?
Your answers will shift, and the shifts matter.
• What spending brings guilt or shame?
• Does that feeling come from misalignment with your own goals, or from messages inherited from others?
• What trade-offs am I making when I choose to save, spend, or prioritize something?
Your honest answers shape your financial behavior more than anything else.
2. Know your numbers (without obsessing)
My sister once walked into the bank because every month her credit card bill shocked her. She was convinced some digital creature was secretly siphoning her money. The bank representative pulled up her statements, and she was forced to confirm that, yes, she had authorized every single purchase.
She did not even feel guilty about how she spent—she simply was not in control. Many of those purchases were not intentional, so she did not enjoy them.
You need to know where your money goes, but it does not need to be complicated. Start with the basics. List your fixed costs: rent, groceries, insurance, debt payments. Then estimate your variable costs: entertainment, dining, and hobbies.
Pull three to six months of bank and credit card statements and find your averages. This gives you a realistic baseline for what “normal” looks like.
You do not need to track every cent. Once you understand your baseline, you can make calmer and more informed decisions.
3. There are seasons
A major takeaway from Die with Zero is the idea of time buckets, recognizing that life has seasons and each season allows for different types of experiences. As you age, your energy, health, and interests shift. I still enjoy traveling, but the idea of shared bathrooms and cold meals now feels miserable. In my twenties, I tolerated it easily, sometimes even enjoyed it. Instead of traveling frugally with friends during that season, I spent much of that time working toward money goals that ultimately felt hollow.
Money only matters when it’s connected to a purpose. For me, that purpose now includes being in community, helping my family, and making art I love.
If your income barely covers essentials, your priority might be building breathing room, a small emergency fund, paying off a high-interest debt, or creating a side stream of income. If you already have savings, then the question becomes whether your spending aligns with your actual goals or whether it’s driven by fear or habit.
Instead of a lifelong bucket list, create decade lists: experiences and goals for your twenties, thirties, forties, and beyond. This brings clarity and makes financial decisions more meaningful.
4. Time is an important ingredient
This is where my perspective diverges slightly from Perkins. He describes a friend who borrows money to travel in his twenties. Perkins argues that “borrowing from your future self” can enhance early adulthood if the debt is modest and not high interest.
I understand the logic, but my bias is different: for nonessential expenses, if you cannot afford something, you should generally avoid borrowing to make it happen.
Many people already struggle with debt and low savings, and catching up later becomes unrealistic. Time itself is powerful. The earlier you start saving or investing, the less you have to contribute because compounding does most of the work.
For example, someone who saves $200 per month from age 25 to 35 and then stops can end up with more at retirement than someone who starts at thirty-five and saves until 65. Time multiplies effort in a way nothing else can.
5. Once you set your intention, automate it
James Clear’s Atomic Habits emphasizes removing friction. If your goal is to save, automate your transfers so money moves into savings or investments before you can touch it. Automation protects you from indecision, forgetfulness and emotional decision-making. You don’t need to check accounts constantly or react to every market dip. Review your plan once or twice a year, or when major life changes occur, but avoid endless tinkering. Consistency, not perfection, is what makes the difference.
6. Make space for joy
The goal is not money itself but what money allows: time with family, meaningful experiences, generosity, creativity or peace. Plan joy with the same seriousness you plan savings. Budget for dinner, the trip, the celebration. Remove the guilt and the outside opinions. You can live in the present and prepare for the future if you define what “enough” looks like for both.
#billPerkins #CHIDINMAMBANEFO #Column #dieWithZero #fixedCosts #personalFinances #poison #selfImprovement #severance #spareChange
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Corpus Offal – Corpus Offal Review
By Tyme
Corpus Offal is the surviving core from the now-defunct underground death dealers Cerebral Rot, whose two releases, Odious Descent into Decay and Excretion of Mortality, received coverage here from AMG’s very own Ferrous Beuller. Responsible for a large portion of the Cerebral Rot sound, guitarist/vocalist Ian Schwab and guitarist Clyle Lindstrom (Fetid, Caustic Wound) have surrounded themselves with a new rhythm section and a refreshed moniker. After a promising two-song demo in 2024, Corpus Offal wasted no time sculpting a handful of other sanguineous songs to include on its 20 Buck Spin eponymous debut album. After laying eyes on Karina Monzon’s monstrous cover art, my mind first went to Autopsy‘s Severed Survival.1 This intriguing aspect of Corpus Offal‘s aesthetic excited me and had me salivating at the chance to dig into this newest vile vessel.
Corpus Offal plays fucking death metal.2 Period. Free of any thrashy overtones or proggy atmospherics, Corpus Offal arrives to offend your pedestrian sensibilities like a bucket of bloody guts splattered across a white tile floor at your feet. With the cover giving me such strong Autopsy vibes, I was happy to hear that the music on Corpus Offal is also very reminiscent of Severed Survival. Schwab and Lindstrom have hung a ton of fleshy riffs (“Gorging Gastric Decedent”) and chaotic solo work (“Spinous Forms of Mortal Abhorrence”) up on Texas chainsaw-sized meat hooks for bleeding. And while a fair amount of Cerebral Rotteness and Fetid fecundity remains in Corpus Offal‘s sound, Billy Anderson’s3 less cavernous mix and master lends an extra bite of sharp evisceration to these proceedings. Further pustulating the sores of this cadaverous corpse are Jesse Shreibman’s (Bell Witch) suppurating drums and Jason Sachs’ viscously bubbling bass work. This is moldy green ham and rotten egg death metal, so pull up a chair, Sam I Am, because Corpus Offal doesn’t give a shit whether you like it or not.
Corpus Offal‘s highlight is Ian Schwab’s vocal performance, which combines the gurgling gutturals of David Torturdød (Undergang, Phrenelith) with the bellicose burblings of Antti Boman (Demilich). Schwab spews forth like a bulbously engorged spore, leaking loads of purulent pestilence. His gravelly gurglinations douse the “Service for a Vacant Coffin”-like4 swing and swagger of “Essence of Dissolution” and the riff-filthiness of eponymous track “Corpus Offal” in globs of effluent ooze. Again, this is a nod to Billy Anderson’s great booth work, as each instrument has enough toxic air to breathe, and the poisonous fumes of Schwab’s vocals are at the forefront instead of being hidden in a haze of cavernous cacophony. Corpus Offal‘s unique brand of sewer core would have New York City rats running for cover, but even a death metal sewer starts to stink after too long.
Corpus Offal‘s debut clocks in at just under fifty minutes, and while I enjoy it just fine, some of the viscous fluids could have been allowed to drain. A case in point would be the wholly superfluous intro, “Purging Creation,” as it reminds me primarily of the equally unnecessary intro to Seep‘s “Encased in Shit,” both taking up about the same amount of time before getting down to business. No song on Corpus Offal clocks in under the six-minute mark, and two of them, “Corpus Offal” (7:44) and “Ripened Psychosis” (8:31), very well could have. The goriest offender is album closer “Secreted Effluence (Spilling).” This twelve-minute track begins with an intriguing guitar-plucked intro that, when repeated at just around the eight-and-a-half-minute mark, might have been an appropriate time to close the coffin, but instead, meanders and progressively slows to its death, having overstayed its welcome.
I spent time revisiting the Cerebral Rot catalog in preparation for this review, and I can confidently say Ferrous scored those albums appropriately. The promise imbued on Cerebral Rot‘s final release has translated into an excellent baseline for Corpus Offal to build off of. This is grotesquely fun death metal that cares not for the proclivities of an over-educated audience. These knuckles are dragging and bloody. With some editing, I believe Corpus Offal has even greater things to give, and I’ll be looking forward to their next awful excretion.
Rating: 3.0/5.0
DR: 8 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: 20 Buck Spin | Bandcamp
Website: Instagram
Releases Worldwide: March 21st, 2025#20BuckSpin #2025 #30 #AmericanMetal #Autopsy #CerebralRot #CorpusOffal #DeathMetal #Fetid #Mar25 #Review
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Morbus Grave – Feasting the Macabre Review
By Steel Druhm
2022 saw the debut by Italian death metal low-lifers Morbus Grave splatter on the walls of the metalverse like so much gore slop. Lurking into Absurdity was like a moist and sticky love letter to Autopsy, Impetigo, and Pungent Stench, with no fucks given for refinement or subtlety. It was caustic, greasy and sleazy and therefore it was good (shit)fun for all. The band crammed in ominous doom segments with a vague second-wave black metal vibe and it all came together in delightfully nauseating ways. I still go back to it when I need a booster shot of distasteful abominations so it must have struck a raw nerve. Fast-forward a scant year and change and we get the diseased follow-up Feasting the Macabre and surprise, surprise, it sounds like a pus-filled blister torn open to reveal the grotesqueries within. It’s gross-out death metal for those who wish Autopsy sounded less healthy and hygienic, and it all but guarantees you’ll need a hydrochloric acid sponge bath when it’s all over. Are you on board yet, you sick little freak?
The Morbus Grave blueprint is more or less the same here, with punky, rowdy death mixed with doom and blackened edges, but the overall product feels a touch more “polished” and “smooth” this time. That said, this is still a big ole bucket of pig entrails and goat semen that was left in the sun all day. The stench of extremity fills the ear nostrils immediately on proper opener “Where Evil Dwells.” It sounds creepy, low-fi, sludgy and all-around shitty as it lurches from mid-tempo gallops to unsteady, wobbly blasting. The Autopsy-isms are mixed with The Return era Bathory and touches of punky d-beatery for maximum destruction and it works. Frontman Erman sounds like he’s having a massive brain seizure and by the end he sounds like he’s in vocal rigor mortis. “Funeral Embodiment” is thrashy and savage with sweet vocal bits that reek of early Mayhem. The minimalist yet unusual riffs are fun, as are Erman’s increasingly deranged vocals.
Back-to-back ass kickers “Congregation of the Exult” and “Feasting the Macabre” are high points loaded with slimy riffs and unsettling vocal excess. There’s a blunt force to the former that’s nicely offset by eerie, creepy moments that sound like horror soundtrack bits, and the latter is d-beaty caveman thuggism and it’s so goddamn thick and slimy, it’s like slipping on someone’s intestines and falling into a mass grave. “Dissolving Obscurity” also deserves mention for its Winter-meets Mayhem-meets-Autopsy cluster fuck of gruesomeness. This one is a queasy little puppy that will make folks question your metal health. At an anorexic 28 minutes (including an intro, outro, and one interlude), there’s not much meat on the rotting bone. The sheer brevity makes Feasting the Macabre feel like a too-quick dip in an abattoir’s waste collection pool, and it comes across as somewhat incomplete. It has high points, but a few numbers don’t quite rise to that next level of essential death metal listening, which is annoying on such a short offering. Then again, Morbus Grave aren’t the band to drop a Record o’ the Year anyway. They just club you with a shit-splattered bat and leave you to die in pain, and I respect that.
As with last time, the star of the show is Erman and his twisted, hideous throat tortures. This guy takes the Chris Reifert model and goes 10 layers deeper into revolting unhingement. He rampages across every song like a loony toony cookie monster and his overdoing it is a big part of the fun. Edy and Blacksodomagickkk (don’t ask) do a lot with a little, utilizing minimalist riffs that walk the line between death and black metal and generally sound really olde. They d-beat, they thrash, they chug, and at key moments they doom, but they do it all in a threadbare way that sounds evil and enigmatic. Meanwhile, Danny Guerra pounds away at the kit with great vengeance and furious anger. He’s not the most polished pummeller in the biz, but you get pulverized nonetheless.
Morbus Grave are good at their very specific brand of damp, bloody death metal and they’re in the running to carry the banner brandished by Autopsy should those legendary sleazebags move on to shittier pastures. You can snag Feasting the Macabre without fear of being let down because this stuff is more fun than a gallon of spoiled shrimp milk. It’s a fast, fun shotgun blast to the face and we all need that sometimes. Don’t play this at work though, ever.
Rating: 3.0/5.0
DR: | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Memento Mori
Websites: morbusgrave1.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/morbusgrave |
Releases Worldwide: July 26th, 2024#2024 #30 #Autopsy #DeathMetal #FeastingTheMacabre #Impetigo #ItalianMetal #Jul24 #LurkingIntoAbsurdity #Mayhem #MementoMoriRecords #MorbusGrave #Review #Reviews
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Morbus Grave – Feasting the Macabre Review
By Steel Druhm
2022 saw the debut by Italian death metal low-lifers Morbus Grave splatter on the walls of the metalverse like so much gore slop. Lurking into Absurdity was like a moist and sticky love letter to Autopsy, Impetigo, and Pungent Stench, with no fucks given for refinement or subtlety. It was caustic, greasy and sleazy and therefore it was good (shit)fun for all. The band crammed in ominous doom segments with a vague second-wave black metal vibe and it all came together in delightfully nauseating ways. I still go back to it when I need a booster shot of distasteful abominations so it must have struck a raw nerve. Fast-forward a scant year and change and we get the diseased follow-up Feasting the Macabre and surprise, surprise, it sounds like a pus-filled blister torn open to reveal the grotesqueries within. It’s gross-out death metal for those who wish Autopsy sounded less healthy and hygienic, and it all but guarantees you’ll need a hydrochloric acid sponge bath when it’s all over. Are you on board yet, you sick little freak?
The Morbus Grave blueprint is more or less the same here, with punky, rowdy death mixed with doom and blackened edges, but the overall product feels a touch more “polished” and “smooth” this time. That said, this is still a big ole bucket of pig entrails and goat semen that was left in the sun all day. The stench of extremity fills the ear nostrils immediately on proper opener “Where Evil Dwells.” It sounds creepy, low-fi, sludgy and all-around shitty as it lurches from mid-tempo gallops to unsteady, wobbly blasting. The Autopsy-isms are mixed with The Return era Bathory and touches of punky d-beatery for maximum destruction and it works. Frontman Erman sounds like he’s having a massive brain seizure and by the end he sounds like he’s in vocal rigor mortis. “Funeral Embodiment” is thrashy and savage with sweet vocal bits that reek of early Mayhem. The minimalist yet unusual riffs are fun, as are Erman’s increasingly deranged vocals.
Back-to-back ass kickers “Congregation of the Exult” and “Feasting the Macabre” are high points loaded with slimy riffs and unsettling vocal excess. There’s a blunt force to the former that’s nicely offset by eerie, creepy moments that sound like horror soundtrack bits, and the latter is d-beaty caveman thuggism and it’s so goddamn thick and slimy, it’s like slipping on someone’s intestines and falling into a mass grave. “Dissolving Obscurity” also deserves mention for its Winter-meets Mayhem-meets-Autopsy cluster fuck of gruesomeness. This one is a queasy little puppy that will make folks question your metal health. At an anorexic 28 minutes (including an intro, outro, and one interlude), there’s not much meat on the rotting bone. The sheer brevity makes Feasting the Macabre feel like a too-quick dip in an abattoir’s waste collection pool, and it comes across as somewhat incomplete. It has high points, but a few numbers don’t quite rise to that next level of essential death metal listening, which is annoying on such a short offering. Then again, Morbus Grave aren’t the band to drop a Record o’ the Year anyway. They just club you with a shit-splattered bat and leave you to die in pain, and I respect that.
As with last time, the star of the show is Erman and his twisted, hideous throat tortures. This guy takes the Chris Reifert model and goes 10 layers deeper into revolting unhingement. He rampages across every song like a loony toony cookie monster and his overdoing it is a big part of the fun. Edy and Blacksodomagickkk (don’t ask) do a lot with a little, utilizing minimalist riffs that walk the line between death and black metal and generally sound really olde. They d-beat, they thrash, they chug, and at key moments they doom, but they do it all in a threadbare way that sounds evil and enigmatic. Meanwhile, Danny Guerra pounds away at the kit with great vengeance and furious anger. He’s not the most polished pummeller in the biz, but you get pulverized nonetheless.
Morbus Grave are good at their very specific brand of damp, bloody death metal and they’re in the running to carry the banner brandished by Autopsy should those legendary sleazebags move on to shittier pastures. You can snag Feasting the Macabre without fear of being let down because this stuff is more fun than a gallon of spoiled shrimp milk. It’s a fast, fun shotgun blast to the face and we all need that sometimes. Don’t play this at work though, ever.
Rating: 3.0/5.0
DR: | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Memento Mori
Websites: morbusgrave1.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/morbusgrave |
Releases Worldwide: July 26th, 2024#2024 #30 #Autopsy #DeathMetal #FeastingTheMacabre #Impetigo #ItalianMetal #Jul24 #LurkingIntoAbsurdity #Mayhem #MementoMoriRecords #MorbusGrave #Review #Reviews
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The thread about David Allan’s watercolours of Edinburgh workers in the 18th century; what they looked like and what their jobs entailed
This thread was originally written and published in October 2020.
Show me a fireman that’s as dashing and dapper as an 18th century Edinburgh fireman.
Edinburgh Fireman, David Allan, 1785. CC-by-NC National Galleries ScotlandThe firemark on the bucket and helmet identify him as being in the employ of the “Sun Fire Office”, founded in 1710 in London and one of the first such organisations. His helmet is probably painted leather, and over his shoulder he carries a length of water pipe. The municipal Edinburgh Fire Establishment was not formed until 1824. Owners of buildings could subscribe to a Fire Insurance Office, and in return for payment would receive a plaque to put on the wall of their property. If it were to catch fire, they could call on the firefighters of their insurance to deal with the blaze. In Edinburgh, the Sun Fire Office was at “The Exchange”, the building which would later become the City Chambers.
This beautiful watercolour sketch is by David Allan, and fortunately there’s more where it came from. Allan hailed from Alloa, born in 1744. The young David was expelled from school when only 10 years old for drawing a caricature of his teacher. Attending the Academy of Art in Glasgow he honed his craft in Rome, where he lived and studied for 10 years. He established himself in Edinburgh after a spell in London that had left him ill and unrecognised, finding success as a painter of family portraits and as a book illustrator (clients included Alan Ramsay). More importantly as far as I am concerned, he also producing a large and interesting body of his own work, of documentary sketches of characters and workers around the town. In this respect he seems to be heavily influenced by Paul Sandby, the “Father of English Watercolour“, who started his artistic professional life as a military draughtsman and cartographer in Edinburgh in the 1750s, and shared an interest in illustrating the everyday scenes of the town.
The man below is a caddie (a porter). He wears his licence as a badge on his coat, the lowland garb of knee length breeches, stockings, a hodden overcoat and on his head the ubiquitous blue bonnet. His carrying basket rests on the wall behind him. Caddies were of special importance in the town, and were regulated by the council, hence the badge. They were expected to know everything, everyone and everywhere. If a visitor to the town was important enough, they would be allocated a caddy of their own as a porter, message runner and local guide. The term is from the French cadet, and has been applied to the game of golf, where the caddy is the player’s porter and guide.
An Edinburgh Porter or Caddie, David Allan, 1785. CC-by-NC National Galleries ScotlandCoalmen at work. The lad on the cart wears a hodden jacket, breeches and the blue bonnet. He loads large lumps of coal onto the back of the other, who wears a short military redcoat. Note the load is taken around the forehead by a leather strap, the same would be the case for the caddie’s basket. Coal was an essential but expensive item; although it was plentiful in the Lothians, the cost of transporting it even a few miles was high due to a combination of poor roads and it being at the mercy of carters. Colliers and coal haulers were at this time still bonded labourer, living an existence very close to slavery, however something about this pair suggest to me they were possibly working as coal merchants, perhaps they were a father and son team? If you read down tro the Salt Seller you can find out more about the sorry existence of the bonded labourers in Scotland before 1799.
Coalman. David Allan, 1785. CC-by-NC National Galleries ScotlandChimney sweeps. Their attire is perhaps more genteel looking than you might imagine, but then again this was a very important trade in a crowded and flammable city with labyrinthine chimney flues. Again they are in the ubiquitous breeches and stockings, hodden overcoats and blue bonnets. The iron ball on the rope would be lowered down the lum to dislodge stoor, and they worked in pairs; one up top and the other down at the hearth, calling to eachother up and down the lum. Things aren’t that much different these days for sweeps, although hey may have refinements like overalls and nylon ropes.
Two Edinburgh Chimney Sweeps. David Allan, 1785. CC-by-NC National Galleries ScotlandTwo chairmen and their sedan, one of the earliest forms of “public” transport (if you could afford it) in the Old Town; its streets were too narrow and precipitous to make even small horse traps much use. These men are quite smartly turned out, as they would be serving a certain class of clientèle. Long coats with coloured facings, breeches, and at least one blue bonnet. The man with the brimmed hat has has highland-style stockings woven on the bias in a chequered pattern – many if not most chairmen were of the Gàidhealtachd. The two appear to be sharing snuff. The poles of the chair carry a lantern. There was an alternative occupation called a “link man”, who was usually a boy and whose job it was to carry that lantern ahead of the chair (for a fee).
An Edinburgh Sedan Chair with Two Porters. David Allan, 1785. CC-by-NC National Galleries ScotlandSedan chairs first appeared in Edinburgh in the 17th century; there were six public chairs in 1687. A century later in 1779, not that long before Allan painted this sketch, there were 180. The wealthy who had need of frequent transportation around town might keep their own private chairs. Most chairs plied their trade from the Tron Kirk, but a servant would usually be sent to fetch it to the exact location where it was required. The trade and its fares was subject to regulation, as “Hackney Chairs”; in 1768 the basic fee within the city was 6d, rising to 1/6d for up to half a mile outside the city, up to 4/- to hire the chair for the day. There were a number of storage sheds for them around the town, one of which survives, off Tweeddale Court.
https://www.flickr.com/photos/davids_leicas/44751274650
A water carrier. Although the supply in Edinburgh by this time was relatively good, it was drawn from a limited number of public wells. Daughters were often sent to fetch water, but if you could afford it you paid a water carrier to bring it to you, very useful considering in the Old Town the wealthy usually lived a couple of floors up, removed from a bit of the noise and stench of the street. This image clearly an ex-military man, he retains his redcoat and his Kilmarnock-style bonnet is of the sort worn by Highland regiments at this time. Based on the basic blue bonnet at one time it would have been decorated with feathers, but these have long since expired. He has a padded leather apron and harness.
An Edinburgh Water Carrier. David Allan, 1785. CC-by-NC National Galleries ScotlandWomen worked too of course. A Newhaven fishwife in her distinctive uniform which was directly inspired by the Dutch and Flemish tradition; a bright and voluminous set of striped skirts, a cape tied below the beck and a fancy linen cap. The ankles were reputedly always on show. With a heavy creel of fish on her back, supported by a leather strap, and a basket of oysters under her arm, the fishwives would each day make the 2.5 mile, 250ft climb up the hill from Newhaven to the City to sell their wares on the streets or door to door. For the Fisherrow women, who had their own garb, it was a 5 mile walk! Their Scots refrain of Wha’ll o my caller oo? and Wha’ll o my caller herrin? translates as “who’s for fresh oysters?” (or herring). The island of Inchkeith is clearly visible in the background, so she is standing somewhere on the foreshore between Newhaven and Leith.
An Edinburgh Fishwife. David Allan, 1785. CC-by-NC National Galleries ScotlandThe pioneering photographers of every day life, Hill & Adamson, made a number of studies of Newhaven fishwives 60 years after Allan’s painting. You can see almost nothing had changed in that time.
Two Newhaven Fishwives, perhaps Mrs Elizabeth (Johnstone) Hall on the right. 1843. Hill & Adamson. Cc-by-NC National Galleries ScotlandIndeed little more changed in the following 100 years. Up until the 1950s, a dwindling number of Newhaven fishwives, some of the older ones still dressed in this manner, still took their wares into the city to sell door to door, although by this time they allowed themselves the luxury of travelling by tram.
Fishwives travelling by tram, c. 1920s-30s. From NLS Mackinnon CollectionA lacemaker. An older woman carrying a “distaff” – a pole from which the strands could be spun. She has an apron over at least 2 layers of plaid, a shawl around her shoulders and a cowled bonnet on her head.
Lacemaker with a Distaff. David Allan, 1784. CC-by-NC National Galleries ScotlandAnd one of Allan’s most unusual and intriguing portraits, not because it shows a servant girl or a milkmaid, but because she is a black woman. This is one of the earliest images of a black woman in Scotland and is clear and compelling evidence that she was part of the town community. This picture was only secured by the National Gallery of Scotland in 2021, at which time the press release said “Looking directly at the viewer, she is shown in working dress, going about her daily duties and set against the backdrop of an elegant Edinburgh street. Her name and life story is unknown, but it is likely that she was a servant, a milkmaid, as suggested by the large vessel or butter churn shown beside her.” Unlike Allan’s other workers sketches, which are always in a fly-on-the-wall style, this one is clearly posed.
Milkmaid with Butter Churn. David Allan, 1785. CC-by-NC National Galleries ScotlandAn officer of the town, perhaps a bailie, reads a proclamation (“God save the King!”), accompanied by two town guardsmen with drums. The officer has a luxurious blue velvet coat, the guardsmen are in simpler red coats with blue facings and tricorne military hats. We can see the spire of St. Giles in the background. Allan has at least four different sketches of town officers in this uniform; the badge on the chest of the coat is clearly the civic arms of the city.
Town Officer and Drummers. David Allan, 1785. CC-by-NC National Galleries ScotlandA member of the town guard, a red military uniform with blue facings and with red breeches. He wears a tricorne hat and carries a “Lochaber axe”, a long-handled pole weapon. The hook on the end was reputed to be for dismounting horsemen but just as likely was to hang the weapon up in the guard room when not in use. The “town rats” or “black banditti” were another class of citizens largely drawn from the Highlands and their nickname gives you an idea of how popular and respected they were by the general public.
A town guardsman. David Allan, 1785. CC-by-NC National Galleries ScotlandNot just any old beggar, this unfortunate man’s blue cloak and the prominent tin badge on his breast identify him as a Jockie. The Jockies were King’s Bedesmen, or Blue Gowns; they were a class of beggars by Royal appointment, first licensed by King James VI. Every birthday of the reigning monarch, each Bluegown received a new cloak, their tin badge with the motto “pass and repass“, a Scots shilling for every year of the monarch’s age and their dinner. “Pass and repass” referred to the holder being allowed to pass freely through the land, not being subject to local begging laws or charges of vagrancy. They had a lodge house outside the city; the Jockies Lodge – this is where the neighbourhood of Jock’s Lodge takes its name from.
“Charity”. A beggar with donkey and children. David Allan, 1785. CC-by-NC National Galleries ScotlandA salt seller. Again the load is carried in a basket held with a leather strap around the forehead. A cloth in the basket prevents the salt escaping and could be closed to protect it from rain. Salt was produced along the Forth coast wherever there was good access to coal to evaporate seawater; at Joppa pans, Pinkie pans, Prestonpans etc. Salt was vitally important for everyday life as one of the few preservatives available for meat and fish. After the Act of Union in 1707, a favourable tax regime meant boom times for Scottish producers; this favour definitely did not trickle down to the work force however. The trades of coal miners, coal carriers and salters were of vital importance to the national economy, and although the work was highly skilled it was excruciating labour; in recognition the Scottish government forced them into being permanently bondaged labour in 1606. New workers were not subject to this after 1775, but it was not until an Act of 1799 that the last were freed from their obligations. In 1785, a worker of the age shown in the sketch could well have been a bondaged labourer. Changes to the salt taxation regime and imports of cheap European and later English mined rock salt largely killed off the Scottish sea salt industry in the first half of the 19th century.
A salter. David Allan, 1785. CC-by-NC National Galleries ScotlandNote to readers: unfortunately in April 2026, a third-party plug-in more than exceeded its authority and broke many of the image links on this site. No images were lost but I will have to restore them page-by-page, which may take some time. In the meantime please bear with me while I go about rectifying this issue.
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#Lochend #Logan #Restalrig #StMargaret -
Excited for my next gig - seeing #Mogwai live at the iconic Albert Hall in Manchester! Celebrating 10 years of the venue's reopening for live music. A bucket list show for me at a venue I've yet to experience #Mogwai #AlbertHall #Manchester https://www.alberthallmanchester.com/event/mogwai-4/ 🤘
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@liztai
I am as happy as the next person to talk about #AI and even #LLM as long as it’s clearly not the #GenAISlop drivelling #ChatBot type of AI.My understanding so far:
Not all #AIs are slop buckets
Not all #SlopBuckets are #AIs
Most #GenAIs are #ChatBotSlop and #RegurgitatorMachines
Not all #AIs are #GenAIs
Not all #LLMs are ##DataHoovers
Most #DataHoovers are #LLMs
Most LLM GenAI companies are #HousesOfCards and #FinancialTraps headed by big time #Grifters and #Swindlers
Investments in GenAI companies and GenAI technologies are mostly #CrossOwnershipDeals with #ZeroAssets to back the investment save for the #ClimateHarming #Hardware which can, once the #AIFinancialBubble bursts, be put to other uses for the better social good.
A lot of #GenAI Executives are #FascistsFeel free to block me at your leisure, or enter in meaningful discussions focussing on what AI can do for the better #SocialGood (and not the stock market).
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@liztai
I am as happy as the next person to talk about #AI and even #LLM as long as it’s clearly not the #GenAISlop drivelling #ChatBot type of AI.My understanding so far:
Not all #AIs are slop buckets
Not all #SlopBuckets are #AIs
Most #GenAIs are #ChatBotSlop and #RegurgitatorMachines
Not all #AIs are #GenAIs
Not all #LLMs are ##DataHoovers
Most #DataHoovers are #LLMs
Most LLM GenAI companies are #HousesOfCards and #FinancialTraps headed by big time #Grifters and #Swindlers
Investments in GenAI companies and GenAI technologies are mostly #CrossOwnershipDeals with #ZeroAssets to back the investment save for the #ClimateHarming #Hardware which can, once the #AIFinancialBubble bursts, be put to other uses for the better social good.
A lot of #GenAI Executives are #FascistsFeel free to block me at your leisure, or enter in meaningful discussions focussing on what AI can do for the better #SocialGood (and not the stock market).
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Blue Rag Range Track, VIC
In this post: Blue Rag Range Track near Dargo in Victoria, Australia: the track, the views, and our route to get there.
This is the blog of Mark Wordsworm, the travelling worm. I’m a 40-year-old bookmark (give or take a few years) and I proudly boast my own Hallmark serial number, 95 HBM 80-1. You’ll probably want to read all about me and my Travelling Companion (the TC).
Today’s travel notes
Me and the TC recently spent a week and a half in the Victorian High Country, a landscape of mountains and valleys in the state of Victoria, Australia. On 23 February, we tackled a bucket-list four-wheel driving track in the area: Blue Rag Range Track.
The book I’m in
Lathe of Heaven by Ursula K Le Guin. Every time this worm gets into a book by this author, I’m astounded at the cleanness of her style and the smartness of her plots. This book is no exception.
Recommended accommodation
Hinnomunjie Bridge campground in Omeo Valley, Victoria. The site is well laid out on the banks of the Mitta Mitta river, with clean toilets and clear grassy areas to pitch your tent.
Recommended restaurant
Dargo Hotel in Dargo.
Travel tips
Try to avoid pitching your tent on a slope. The TC, bless her cotton socks, kept waking up with her feet hanging over the end of the bed and a big empty space at the top of the bed. She finally worked out that she was sliding down thanks to the slope.
The photos
Me at the trig point at the top of Blue Rag Range Track (elevation 1,700 metres / 5,580 feet):
Observant readers will notice the trophies stuck to the trig tower, by people who’re proud to make it to the top. We didn’t leave a trophy, but it is indeed a great feeling to have made this trip.
Observant readers will also notice that it was windy up there! This worm strikes a jaunty pose nonetheless, with my tassel horizontal and a firm grasp from a friendly hand.
Hyper-observant readers will notice Peg skulking in the book at bottom right. Peg makes occasional appearances in my posts, her firm grip on reality keeping me grounded. But even Peg wasn’t strong enough for the gale at the Blue Rag Range trig point.
The track
It took us three and a half hours (12:30pm to 4pm) to drive the track itself, with a one-hour lunch break and stops for photographs.
At the start of the track is a steep mound with a hole at its crest, ready to trap the unwary vehicle. Most people choose to go round:
Another video shows the approach to the trig point at the top of the track:
Friendly locals in Dargo told us that it’s unwise to venture beyond the trig point. Those who do will almost certainly need help recovering their vehicles, and the Dargo police are inundated with calls for help from drivers who don’t realise the risks.
The views from the track are stunning, with mountain ranges all round:
Much of the track runs along the top of the ridge:
A sign post marks the track part-way along, surrounded by white tree skeletons and scrubby grass:
Our route
We started the day by fuelling up in Dargo. This is one of the cars in our convoy:
The Dargo Hotel offers a good feed. Here’s Beetle the Jeep, lined up and ready to go:
We left Dargo in mid-morning, following Lind Avenue along the banks of the Dargo River, then Dargo High Plains Road to the start of the track.
A sign post shows the start of the Blue Rag Range Track on Dargo High Plains Road:
After reaching the Blue Rag Range trig point, we turned round and went back to Dargo High Plains Road, continuing north to the B500.
We camped overnight at Hinnomunjie Bridge campground on the banks of the Mitta Mitta river in Omeo Valley. This beautiful fire barrel was made by one of our travelling companions:
That’s all for today, folks
#4wd #adventure #australia #BlueRagRangeTrack #bookmark #bookworm #Dargo #HinnomunjieBridge #travel #travellingWorm #travelog #travelogue #Victoria #VictorianHighCountry
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My friend, Jane, from Lake Cowichan, was the first senior citizen activist who was arrested in 2021, at Fairy Creek Blockades. She messaged before heading out to meet up with me at HQ camp. She told me she's never been arrested for protesting anything before but due to seeing too much ecocide still happening in her golden years - declared, 'Getting arrested for protecting Mother Nature is now on my bucket list"🌲💦 💗🦅🌲🦉🌲 Jane stayed at HQ camp for 2 nights & on her 3rd day, headed out to chain herself/walker to a tripod hardblock. Jane was arrested, along with 12 others that day, after several hours. Jane is a wonderful human being, a musician, a fibers artist, a Mother & Grandmother, who loves nature very much.
#RadicalSeniors #AwesomeElders #ClimateAction #Activists #AsianMastodon #AncientForestDefenders #BritishColumbia #StopDeforestation #StopEcocide #blockade #FairyCreekBlockade #SaveOldGrowth #WorthMoreStanding #VancouverIsland #VanIsle #PacificNorthwest #OneEarth #TreesOverGreed #PNW #StandEarth #EcoJustice #AbolishRCMPCIRG #BCpoli #BCNDP #BCForestryReform #environmentalists #ecological #ClimateChange #CarbonSink #BCOldGrowth #ProtectTrees #SilentSunday #Cascadia #RadicalSeniorCitizens #DirectAction #Resistance
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My friend, Jane, from Lake Cowichan, was the first senior citizen activist who was arrested in 2021, at Fairy Creek Blockades. She messaged before heading out to meet up with me at HQ camp. She told me she's never been arrested for protesting anything before but due to seeing too much ecocide still happening in her golden years - declared, 'Getting arrested for protecting Mother Nature is now on my bucket list"🌲💦 💗🦅🌲🦉🌲 Jane stayed at HQ camp for 2 nights & on her 3rd day, headed out to chain herself/walker to a tripod hardblock. Jane was arrested, along with 12 others that day, after several hours. Jane is a wonderful human being, a musician, a fibers artist, a Mother & Grandmother, who loves nature very much.
#RadicalSeniors #AwesomeElders #ClimateAction #Activists #AsianMastodon #AncientForestDefenders #BritishColumbia #StopDeforestation #StopEcocide #blockade #FairyCreekBlockade #SaveOldGrowth #WorthMoreStanding #VancouverIsland #VanIsle #PacificNorthwest #OneEarth #TreesOverGreed #PNW #StandEarth #EcoJustice #AbolishRCMPCIRG #BCpoli #BCNDP #BCForestryReform #environmentalists #ecological #ClimateChange #CarbonSink #BCOldGrowth #ProtectTrees #SilentSunday #Cascadia #RadicalSeniorCitizens #DirectAction #Resistance
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My friend, Jane, from Lake Cowichan, was the first senior citizen activist who was arrested in 2021, at Fairy Creek Blockades. She messaged before heading out to meet up with me at HQ camp. She told me she's never been arrested for protesting anything before but due to seeing too much ecocide still happening in her golden years - declared, 'Getting arrested for protecting Mother Nature is now on my bucket list"🌲💦 💗🦅🌲🦉🌲 Jane stayed at HQ camp for 2 nights & on her 3rd day, headed out to chain herself/walker to a tripod hardblock. Jane was arrested, along with 12 others that day, after several hours. Jane is a wonderful human being, a musician, a fibers artist, a Mother & Grandmother, who loves nature very much.
#RadicalSeniors #AwesomeElders #ClimateAction #Activists #AsianMastodon #AncientForestDefenders #BritishColumbia #StopDeforestation #StopEcocide #blockade #FairyCreekBlockade #SaveOldGrowth #WorthMoreStanding #VancouverIsland #VanIsle #PacificNorthwest #OneEarth #TreesOverGreed #PNW #StandEarth #EcoJustice #AbolishRCMPCIRG #BCpoli #BCNDP #BCForestryReform #environmentalists #ecological #ClimateChange #CarbonSink #BCOldGrowth #ProtectTrees #SilentSunday #Cascadia #RadicalSeniorCitizens #DirectAction #Resistance
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My friend, Jane, from Lake Cowichan, was the first senior citizen activist who was arrested in 2021, at Fairy Creek Blockades. She messaged before heading out to meet up with me at HQ camp. She told me she's never been arrested for protesting anything before but due to seeing too much ecocide still happening in her golden years - declared, 'Getting arrested for protecting Mother Nature is now on my bucket list"🌲💦 💗🦅🌲🦉🌲 Jane stayed at HQ camp for 2 nights & on her 3rd day, headed out to chain herself/walker to a tripod hardblock. Jane was arrested, along with 12 others that day, after several hours. Jane is a wonderful human being, a musician, a fibers artist, a Mother & Grandmother, who loves nature very much.
#RadicalSeniors #AwesomeElders #ClimateAction #Activists #AsianMastodon #AncientForestDefenders #BritishColumbia #StopDeforestation #StopEcocide #blockade #FairyCreekBlockade #SaveOldGrowth #WorthMoreStanding #VancouverIsland #VanIsle #PacificNorthwest #OneEarth #TreesOverGreed #PNW #StandEarth #EcoJustice #AbolishRCMPCIRG #BCpoli #BCNDP #BCForestryReform #environmentalists #ecological #ClimateChange #CarbonSink #BCOldGrowth #ProtectTrees #SilentSunday #Cascadia #RadicalSeniorCitizens #DirectAction #Resistance
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My friend, Jane, from Lake Cowichan, was the first senior citizen activist who was arrested in 2021, at Fairy Creek Blockades. She messaged before heading out to meet up with me at HQ camp. She told me she's never been arrested for protesting anything before but due to seeing too much ecocide still happening in her golden years - declared, 'Getting arrested for protecting Mother Nature is now on my bucket list"🌲💦 💗🦅🌲🦉🌲 Jane stayed at HQ camp for 2 nights & on her 3rd day, headed out to chain herself/walker to a tripod hardblock. Jane was arrested, along with 12 others that day, after several hours. Jane is a wonderful human being, a musician, a fibers artist, a Mother & Grandmother, who loves nature very much.
#RadicalSeniors #AwesomeElders #ClimateAction #Activists #AsianMastodon #AncientForestDefenders #BritishColumbia #StopDeforestation #StopEcocide #blockade #FairyCreekBlockade #SaveOldGrowth #WorthMoreStanding #VancouverIsland #VanIsle #PacificNorthwest #OneEarth #TreesOverGreed #PNW #StandEarth #EcoJustice #AbolishRCMPCIRG #BCpoli #BCNDP #BCForestryReform #environmentalists #ecological #ClimateChange #CarbonSink #BCOldGrowth #ProtectTrees #SilentSunday #Cascadia #RadicalSeniorCitizens #DirectAction #Resistance
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OSU Hillel’s Bagel Café now accepts BuckID swipes, aims to expand kosher dining options for Jewish students - Kyrie Thomas [🖼 The order counter at OSU Hillel’s Bagel Café, which is located at 46 E. 16th Ave. Credit: Kyrie Thomas | Campus LTV Producer]The order counter at OSU Hillel’s Bagel Café, which is located at 46 E. 16th Ave. Credit: Kyrie Thomas | Campus LTV Producer
OSU Hillel’s Bagel Café — located at 46 E. 16th Ave. — now accepts BuckID swipes as part of a general movement to increase kosher, on-campus dining options for students.
Students who live on campus must select an Ohio State dining plan, according to Dining Services’ website. With on-campus living being a requirement for first-year students, having access to food that meets their dietary restrictions is a critical component of the college experience.
“I got approved to use one of the off-campus dining plans since there weren’t kosher options on campus,” said Talia Sukienik, a Kosher-keeping student and a second-year in biomedical engineering.
Dave Issacs, a university spokesperson, said in an email the university has utilized the same Kosher kitchen as Bagel Café uses to provide food served in Union Marketplace on campus.
Swipes allow students to swipe into the three Traditions Dining Halls on campus with their BuckID for both to-go and self-service options, while BuckID cash can be used like a debit card at on-campus and off-campus locations, according to the Dining Services’ website.
Aaron Portman, campus rabbi and senior Jewish educator at OSU Hillel, said Bagel Café previously only accepted BuckID cash as payment. Letting the eatery allow swipes aligns with OSU Hillel’s goal of bringing more convenience to the university’s Jewish community, he said.
“This is a really transformative thing, especially for students who are living in the dorms and on a meal plan,” Portman said. “They can have their meals at our kosher café three times a day if they want to, which is exciting.”
The act of “keeping kosher” relates to dietary restrictions and religious laws surrounding a kosher diet, Portman said. Not mixing meat and milk and ensuring food is certified kosher are the diet’s main two regulations.
“There’s different levels of keeping kosher,” Portman said. “Kind of like organic or vegan, you can trust that the food is made a particular way, and for people who keep kosher, it falls within their observance level.”
Supervised by Buckeye Kosher — a local establishment that supervises all of Columbus’ kosher institutions — Bagel Café strictly follows the aforementioned guidelines, Portman said.
The café will rotate its options weekly, Portman said. A dairy-based menu will be offered Monday through Wednesday, Thursdays will offer a meat-based menu and Fridays will feature a Shabbat dinner for anyone within Ohio State’s community.
“We are one of the few kosher establishments where people can come here and buy food, but we really would love anyone that’s interested in kosher food or learning more about the Jewish community on campus to come to our Hillel building,” Portman said.
Though adding Bagel Café to the list of kosher-friendly options covered by Ohio State’s dining plans is a form of progress, Sukienik said there is always room for improvement.
“It’d be awesome if we could have more kosher dining hall food where all the food is prepared with the laws of kosher, because there are certain restrictions in place,” Sukienik said. “Then, [Jewish students] could feel more included because anyone could come and they could eat together with their Jewish and non-Jewish friends.”
Providing a variety of convenient kosher options allows students to enjoy food without the added stress of confirming if it adheres to their religious restrictions, Portman said. Moreover, he said accommodating the kosher diet on a wider scale is a way the university can demonstrate its care for its diverse range of students.
“We really do hope in the next few years we can use this as a point to show Jewish students from across the country that Ohio State is a place that can really accommodate their religious needs,” Portman said.