Loud-mouthed liberal feminist. Anarchist knitter. Tequila-drinking artsy-smartsy fat chick. Bluesy folk-rock singer-songwriter. Rebel with too many causes. Quirky eclectic pagan poet. Paradoxical intuitive smartass. Sarcastic brainiac insomniac. You know, for starters.


I am plumb out of rage today.

Amazingly, I have exhausted the supply of rage that I had heretofore believed endless. The excesses of veep candidates and economic/political shenanigans and fucking bigots and rude people on the el and the epidemic of bad grammar have left me sputtering so frequently lately that when this latest horse hockey hit my brain this morning, all I could do was sigh. I want to take it down with incandescent eloquence....but I got nothin'.

This would be making me furious, if I had any anger in stock. The framing of these various efforts being made to convince the body that it's not being starved....is scary to me. There's a quote talking about how nobody wants to completely change their lifestyle, and this "tinkering" with appetite via modified (read: undigestible) foods will let them "indulge" again. Note to fuckhead scientists: EATING IS NOT INDULGENCE, IT'S A BIOLOGICAL NECESSITY.

Also, the bit about "anorexics or female adolescents" kind of boggles the mind....maybe that statement tells us a little something about diet culture, hmmm?

It's possible I haven't *quite* exhausted my supplies....

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