Dowbrigade

JUNIN, Peru — In a small storefront on a bleak, wind-swept Andean plateau, Timotea Cordova offers an oxygen-deprived visitor a traditional elixir to ward off the breathless effect of the high altitude.

For hundreds of years, Quechua Indians have grown maca, the frost-resistant root that thrives in these frigid Andean highlands, to boost stamina and sex drive. The root, they believe, is nature’s bounty and belongs to everyone and to no one in particular.

Maca growers and indigenous organizations were outraged when, in 2001, a New Jersey-based company, PureWorld Botanicals, received a US patent for exclusive commercial distribution of an extract of maca’s active libido-enhancing compounds that it branded as MacaPure.

Peruvian officials called the patent an "emblematic case" of biopiracy and are preparing to challenge it in US courts.

The maca dispute is just the latest collision between indigenous people and commercial interests over so-called biological prospecting, the growing practice of scouring the globe for exotic plants, microbes, and other living things ripe for commercial exploitation.

from the Boston Globe

Ah, the path not taken. For years this seemed to be the career path of the Dowbrigade, as he plied isolated Amazon tributaries and Andean valleys for shamen, curanderos, herbal medicines, psychotropic plants, substances and preparations. We (in this case the Dowbrigade and a small group of young grad students and researchers from Harvard and other schools working in South America in the 1970′s) called it Ethnobotany and generally fell into it while under the influence of samples of the substances which had found their way back to the campuses in question, or brilliant professors such as Richard Schultes, the father of modern ethnobotany, whose undergraduate course piqued our interest.

Of course, in those days no one was hip to bio-prospecting. Maybe, if we had figured out that many of these magical substances had commercial value it would have influenced our selection of a profession. But probably not. Financial security was the furthest thing from our busy mind in those days, and in some ways it still is, unfortunately.

Oh, the stories we could tell. Sure, we remember maca, but it never did much for us. Perhaps we didn’t notice, as we seem to remember spending our 20′s in a more or less permanent state of arousal. But we were enormously impressed by Chuchuwasi.

Chuchuwasi was mostly an extract of a creeping vine known only to a few small tribes on tributaries of the Ucayali River, mixed by local Shamen with traces of chacropanga and other top-end additives. It was reputed to be the most powerful libido booster known, as far as the female libido was concerned. Sort of like the holy grail of current sex pharma research – a female viagra.

We were impressed because we have seen this stuff work – twice. After a convoluted series of trades and bargains, which involved our parting with both a prized black hooded Moroccan camel-hair cape and an authentic plastic mood ring, we had gotten our hands on a full bottle of fresh Chuchuwasi. It was contained in scratched and dirty bottle which had once contained Ron Cartavio, stopped with a cork and tied with twine.

The first night we had it, we shared it with three Danish backpackers, whom, up to that point, we had assumed by their dress and demeanor were militant dykes. Given their short, butch haircuts, it was impossible to imagine them letting their hair down. Until they tried the Chuchuwasi. Within two hours, they were dancing fiendishly in their underwear around a fire in a clearing. The effects lasted about five memorable hours.

Now, aware of the danger of making assumptions and jumping to conclusions (after all, our first subjects were Scandinavians, scandalously infamous in all things sexual, so the next night we were decided to put what was left of the bottle to a real test. In a nearby village was a small school, the Centro Educativa Santa Teresa, staffed by four young nuns sent from a monastery near Cuzco. They had previously invited us for a visit, and we decided to take them up on it – with the Chuchusasi.

They invited us to try some herbal tea. We got them to try the Chuchuwasi, telling them it was a mild aperitif we had been given by the chief of a village upriver. We had a pleasant chat.

The joy juice started to kick in after about 45 minutes. It was evening, school was out, and the school was somewhat isolated from the rest of the village. This is not the time or place for details, but let us say we were taken to school, for sure. We learned some lessons that night we will never forget, including what lies behind the habits of confirmed Christianity.

The nuns finished off what was left of the Chuchusasi, and we never managed to get our hands on another. We were soon off on the trail of a legendary tree, the result of dozens of generations of genetic tinkering on the part of a family of Colombian shamen. Reputedly, this tree, the end product of a hundred-year project, was the lone example of its genus and smoking a preparation of its bark allowed repeatable and reliable human telepathy.

But we remember where the Chuchuwasi came from, and believe we could find it again. A natural, female equivalent of Viagra could be worth billions to the right company. Maybe its not too late to return to our roots. Any interested backers out there?

"The President does not know him. Nor does the President recall ever meeting him." – White House Press Secretary Scott McClellan – January 2006.

"I frankly don’t even remember having my picture taken with the guy. I don’t know him."
– George W. Bush on ABC News – January 2006

Abramoff: “[Bush] has one of the best memories of any politician I have ever met. … The guy saw me in almost a dozen settings, and joked with me about a bunch of things, including details of my kids. Perhaps he has forgotten everything. Who knows.”

The photo is from a fundraiser in December 2003 and was recently dug up by Citizens for Responsibility and Ethics in Washington (CREW). Here’s hoping these two rascals get a reunion and plenty of time to reminisce in the Big House…..

WASHINGTON – The obesity epidemic has spread to man’s best friend, and so many dogs are getting fat that the government stepped in Friday by approving the first doggie diet pill.

The Food and Drug Administration announced the approval of Slentrol, a prescription drug that can suppress Fido’s appetite while also blocking the absorption of fat from his treats.

”This is a welcome addition to animal therapies,” said the FDA’s Stephen Sundloff. "Dog obesity appears to be increasing.”

Experts blamed the same factors that cause people to get fat: too much food and not enough exercise.

from the Miami Herald

Our cats are still laughing….

In New York City, where there has been no snow at all this season, the cherry trees are beginning to blossom in temperatures that have been inching up all week and could hit 70 degrees on Saturday.

from the New York Times

New York, hell. This year, there’re probably tulips up in Nome. We know for a fact that the cherry blossoms are out along the Charles River in scenic Cambridge, Massachusetts, and we took some pictures to prove it.

Note the White Whale in the foreground, parked in front of the home court of the Just Don’t Suck Tennis Club in Riverside Park. We have played outdoor on these courts every weekend for the past year, with no end in sight. Tomorrow we expect to be out there again, clouds and sun predicted, temps near 70. Another record for the date, ho hum.

Word is that Atlanta is the new Miami, which means New York is the new Atlanta, and Boston is, well, it gets pretty complicated at that point. One thing that is undeniable, they don’t make winters like they used to. A few years ago we were rushing towards retirement so we could move somewhere we could play tennis outdoors year round. Scratch that one off the to-do list…..

The feeling here is that Hillary may be too late to become the first female President of the United States. According to the 25th amendment, the only thing standing between us and President Pelosi is the simultaneous resignation, or incapacitation, or impeachment, or abdication of the sitting President and Vice President.

That may not be as farfetched as it seems at first view. We may be living in a fool’s paradise, but we believe this is still a nation of laws to which no one is immune, and we are absolutely convinced that both George Bush and John Cheney have committed multiple felonies, high crimes and misdemeanors in the course of deliberately misrepresenting intelligence findings, misleading the country into war for personal and political reasons, illegally arresting, detaining and torturing citizens and foreign nationals alike, wiretapping, eavesdropping and warrantless searches of same, illegal fundraising, rigged contract adjudication and financial/regulatory manipulation of the media. For starters.

Furthermore, as these guys are no smarter than your average power-mad megalomaniacs, we are convinced of the existence of multiple smoking guns, paper trails and incriminating recordings pertaining to the above-mentioned transgressions. The principles have all been so thoroughly cutthroat for so long we are sure they have all collected insurance policies in the form of incriminating photocopies, emails or tapes. Once the shit starts hitting the fan for real, this whole rotten regime is going to collapse like a house of losing scratch tickets.

Or maybe that is just wistful thinking. As incompetent and traitorously fraudulent as Bush and Cheney have been, there are powerful interests invested in preserving their legacy and keeping their asses out of jail. The sanctity of the office, and the lingering odor of sulphur, and Skull and Bones. They may yet wriggle out of actual hard time, but the both of them belong in jail, for what they’ve done to dishonor the sacrifices of so many, for so long.

So supposing that the Democrats grow some real balls, and start putting pressure on the principals, some modern-day John Dean is going to crack, and the sordid details will start to pour out. At that point, it will all come down to timing.

If the righteous wrath of the Democrats is turned first against the Price of Darkness, aka the Vice President, as a prelude or warm up to going after the Bushman himself, the Republicans will just replace Cheney with a bland Mitch McConnell or Dennis Hastert or somebody, so that if Bush gets impeached or resigns a Republican stalwart reigns.

After all, this is the Gerald Ford blueprint. First, the improbably named vice president was replaced with a Ford, as the powers that be doubted America would withstand a President named Spiro. And let us not forget, as Maureen Dowd reminded us yesterday, it was Gerald Ford who brought us John Cheney and Donald Rumsfeld in the first place.

Conversely, if the Democrats go after Bush first, on the theory that he would be the more likely to carelessly leave his fingerprints on a crucial document, or that the VP will be harder to get to in his still undisclosed location, this would allow Cheney to ascend to the top job directly, despite his well-know aversion to public events, the press, and direct sunlight. Flushed out of his crypt, there is no telling what he would be capable of.

Which makes it imperative to concoct a scenario wherein both of these dudes take the fall together, or at least more or less simultaneously. Perhaps if they are co-defendants in the same case? Who knows? But here’s hoping the Democratic leadership has some pretty smart sleaze bags and shysters of its own working on the case as we sleep…..and dream of the ascension of President Pelosi and all that it would entail.

English teacher’s afterthought:

“This is an historic moment,” Mrs. Pelosi said in her first remarks as speaker of the 110th Congress. “It’s an historic moment for the Congress. It’s an historic moment for the women of America. It is a moment for which we have waited for over 200 years.”

from the New York Times

Now, this is not an auspicious start, from a language point of view. As we all know, the indefinite article "an" is used in front of words that begin with vowels, or words that begin with a silent "h", like "an hour" or "an honor". Now, the last time we checked, the "h" in "historic" IS pronounced, unless one is from Liverpool, like the "h’s" in "a house" or "a hearty meal". Is it too much to ask of our next President that she take a bit more care of the language than her predecessor?

Just when you thought the Iranian leadership could stoop no further: A top advisor to Iranian President Mahmoud Ahmadinejad claimed in an interview with Iranian website Baztab that Nazi leader Adolf Hitler’s parents were both Jewish and that Hitler himself was one of the founders of the State of Israel.

In the interview, translated by MEMRI (Middle East Media Research Institute) Mohammad-Ali Ramin, a chief aide to Ahmadinejad, told Baztab that Hitler’s paternal grandmother was a Jewish prostitute and his father even kept his Jewish name until finally changing it to Hitler when he was 40.

Ramin cites a 1974 book by Hennecke Kardel titled ‘Adolf Hitler: Founder of Israel’, which alleges that Hitler strived to create a Jewish state as a result of being influenced by his Jewish relatives and his cooperation with Britain – which also wanted to drive the Jews out of Europe.

According to Ramin on the one hand Hitler’s relatives and the friends who brought him to power, as well as his mistresses and personal physician, were all Jewish. On the other hand he welcomed the expulsion of ambitious and influential Jews from Europe to the British Mandate of Palestine.

from YNet News

Now it’s all fitting together. WWI was an excuse to break up the last Islamic empire, and WWII was a plot to plant a Zionist seed in the sea of Persian petroleum left behind. That Hitler was one crafty Jew…..

Doing a little after-holiday shopping, in preparation for our own personal Christmas, as celebrated by the Church of the Latter Day Savings, we noticed a couple of changes to the most fundamental facet of the holidays, as celebrated in America – shopping itself.

First of all, there seems to be a dearth of deep-cut after Christmas sales this year. On-line, at the mall, and at stand-alone specialty stores, the story seems to be the same. Weak, washed out mop-up sales, dainty discounts on sleazy selected items, half-hearted consumer come-ons which seem driven more by habit than by hope of significant sales volume.

Perhaps the pre-holiday rush was so successful they have sold everything, or the cutthroat competition caused such deep discounts prices that there is nowhere lower to go without wallowing in a sea of red ink, or they are merely waiting for those billions of dollars of gift cards to troop through the door. At any rate, we hope that this is an anomaly for this year only, as a drop in post-holiday savings could put a crimp in the plans for Church of the Latter Day Savings‘s world domination.

The other big change we have noted is the pernicious, insistent and incremental loss of privacy which now seems to be a part of the post 9/11 shopping experience. Increasingly, we are being asked for personal information at the check-out counter, especially at Big Box, Hi-Tech, Mega-Corporation reps like Staples and Best Buy.

Why the hell do they need to know my address and phone number every time I want to buy a DVD or a paper shedder? Is it so paranoid to imagine a wall-sized monitor somewhere, someday, in an anonymous governmental office, on which blinking green lights track our consumption across the cartography of capitalism, collecting information or worse. Such dark thoughts lead to exchanges like the following, last week, at Micro Center.

We were purchasing 50 DVD-R’s, a can of compressed air and an ethernet cable. As we reached the purchasing terminal the teenaged reprobate behind the keyboard prompted,

"Address?"

"I prefer to preserve my anonymity," we replied, as we are wont to do.

"Wha?" Blank look.

We repeat ourself, slowly, as when addressing the mentally challenged.

"Hey, Rolanda," he actually shouted to his supervisor across the way, "Do we have Nomininity?"