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Eat Clean Diet Books


eat clean diet books
    clean diet
  • This refers to eating nutrient-rich, low-fat meals.
    books
  • (book) a written work or composition that has been published (printed on pages bound together); "I am reading a good book on economics"
  • (book) engage for a performance; "Her agent had booked her for several concerts in Tokyo"
  • Engage (a performer or guest) for an occasion or event
  • Reserve (accommodations, a place, etc.); buy (a ticket) in advance
  • (book) physical objects consisting of a number of pages bound together; "he used a large book as a doorstop"
  • Reserve accommodations for (someone)
    eat
  • eat a meal; take a meal; "We did not eat until 10 P.M. because there were so many phone calls"; "I didn't eat yet, so I gladly accept your invitation"
  • take in solid food; "She was eating a banana"; "What did you eat for dinner last night?"
  • feed: take in food; used of animals only; "This dog doesn't eat certain kinds of meat"; "What do whales eat?"
  • Put (food) into the mouth and chew and swallow it
  • Have (a meal)
  • Have a meal in a restaurant

St Gerasimos (Gerasim)
St Gerasimos (Gerasim)
(Here is a chapter about St Gerasimos from the new, revised edition (2008) of Praying With Icons.) Among saints remembered for their peaceful relations with dangerous animals, not least is Gerasimos, shown in icons caring for an injured lion. The story behind the image comes down to us from Saint John Moschos, a monk of Saint Theodosius Monastery near Bethlehem and author of The Spiritual Meadow, a book written in the course of journeys he made in the late sixth and early seventh centuries. It’s a collection of stories of monastic saints, mainly desert dwellers, and also an early example of travel writing. In the fifth century, Gerasimos was abbot of a community of seventy monks who lived in the desert east of Jericho, not far from the River Jordan. They slept on reed mats, had cells without doors, and — apart from common prayer — normally observed silence. Their diet consisted chiefly of water, dates and bread. Gerasimos, in ongoing repentance for having been influenced by the teachings of a heretic in his youth, is said to have eaten even less than the norm. One day while walking along the Jordan, Gerasimos came upon a lion roaring in agony because of a large splinter imbedded in one paw. Overcome with compassion for the suffering beast, Gerasimos removed the splinter, drained and cleaned the wound, then bound it up, expecting the lion would return to its cave. Instead the lion meekly followed him back to the monastery and became the abbot’s devoted companion. The community was amazed at the lion’s apparent conversion to a peaceful life – like the monks, he lived now on bread and vegetables – and its devotion to the abbot. The lion was given a special task: guarding the community’s donkey, which was pastured along the Jordan. But one day it happened, while the lion was napping, that the donkey strayed and was stolen by a passing trader. After searching without success, the lion returned to the monastery, its head hanging low. The brothers concluded the lion had been overcome by an appetite for meat. As a punishment, it was given the donkey’s job: to carry water each day from the river to the monastery in a saddlepack with four earthen jars. Months later, it happened that the trader was coming along the Jordan with the stolen donkey and three camels. The lion recognized the donkey and roared so loudly that the trader ran away. Taking its rope in his jaws, the lion led the donkey back to the monastery with the camels following behind. The monks realized, to their shame, that they had misjudged the lion. The same day, Gerasimos gave the lion a name: Jordanes. For five more years, until the abbot’s death, Jordanes was part of the monastic community. When the elder fell asleep in the Lord and was buried, Jordanes lay down on the grave, roaring its grief and beating its head against the ground. Finally Jordanes rolled over and died on the last resting place of Gerasimos. It is a story that touches the reader intimately, inspiring the hope that the wild beast that still roars within us may yet be converted — while the story’s second half suggests that, when falsely accused of having returned to an unconverted life, vindication will finally happen. The icon of Saint Gerasimos focuses on contact between a monk and a lion – an Eden-like moment before creatures were became a threat to each other. By the river of Christ’s baptism, an ancient harmony we associate with Adam and Eve before the Fall is renewed. At least for a moment, enmity is abandoned. A small island of divine peace has been achieved through a merciful action. The icon is an image of peace – man and beast no longer threatening each other’s life. But is the story true? Certainly the abbot Gerasimos is real. Many texts refer to him. Soon after his death he was recognized as a saint. The monastery he founded lasted for centuries, a center of spiritual life and a place of pilgrimage. He was one of the great elders of the Desert. But what about Jordanes? Might the lion be a graphic metaphor for the saint’s ability to convert lion-like people who came to him? Unlikely stories about saints are not rare. Some are so remarkable — for example Saint Nicholas bringing back to life three murdered children who had been hacked to pieces which were being boiled in a stew pot — that the resurrection of Christ seems a minor miracle in contrast. Yet even the most farfetched legend usually has a basis in the character of the saint: Nicholas was resourceful in his efforts to protect the lives of the defenseless. Numerous accounts of the lives of saints show their readiness to offer hospitality to beasts. In the life of Saint Francis of Assisi, one of the most striking stories concerns a wolf. Francis was asked by the people from the town of Gubbio to help them with a wolf which had been killing livestock. Francis set out to meet the wolf, blessed it with the sign of the cross, communicated with it by gesture, finally leading the wolf into the town it
MPTI no. 19: Salad Box, Not Skinner Box
MPTI no. 19: Salad Box, Not Skinner Box
For this miniature transient public installation I wanted to challenge observers to meditate on the possibilities and implications of scientifically-proven means of accelerating human development. Some say that children are the future. I say that the future is nanotechnology being used in personal, private, um, “self-pleasuring devices”, but who am I to quibble. After having my installations rejected by every reputable museum, gallery, corner bodega, and gas station restroom in the Delaware Valley, I’m beginning to think that there’s the possibility these may not be my legacy to the world (although I do have a Sons of Italy lodge in over in Jersey interested in my Damien Hirst-inspired “Corpse of Mafia Capo in Linguine and White Clam Sauce”). Following an intensive self-assessment (aided by a time-travel potion procured under the counter at Harry’s Occult), I don’t see a lot of legacy-worthy stuff happening on the horizon. I need a new legacy. So I’m going to have to do what everybody else does – create a legacy with a well-timed and prophylactic-free bumping of the naughty parts. I don’t know anything about raising kids (other than “children are happier when mommy changes the diapers”…I could’ve sworn I read that in an old JAMA). Now, there are plenty of books and systems out there on raising an uber-child, but the way I look at it if everyone’s reading the same books, then how “uber” can everyone’s resulting uber-child really be? I need an edge to fully ensure supreme ubernicity for my progeny. So I decided to start developing that edge myself with some good old-fashioned scientific research. Through trial and error, I’d eventually hit on something that mattered. I started with the 2 most important things for a newborn - diet and sleep, but decided to combine the two with a slight twist on acclaimed child-rearer B.F. Skinner’s “Skinner Box”. Using my connections with the local Kirghizistan mafia (these guys keep a low profile; it’s what makes them so good), the Center for Applied Diet Nutrition at the University of Pennsylvania, and Friendly Jin’s All-You-Can Eat Super Buffet, I was ready to conduct my first experiment. I took a pair of newborn twins and separated them. For 1 year, one (affectionately named “Control”) was raised according to normal medical advice – standard diet and sleeping in a nice cozy crib. Being a scientific test, there was a slight difference with the other (named “Control Two”, because looking at the little guy, he really didn’t look like a “Test”. And for those scientists out there who claim that you can’t have 2 controls in the same test I say, back off, this is my experiment. I’m naming them whatever I want. Get your own twins on the Kirghizistani blackmarket and do your own experiments). He spent the first year of his life on a bed of lettuce in the salad bar of Friendly Jin’s All-You-Can Eat Super Buffet. (And I must come clean and tell you that the above photo is a merely a recreation of the experiment, as Control Two would not sign the model release, complicated by the haggling my side's going through with CCA over points on the documentary film we made of the whole process “Salad Box, Not Skinner Box.”) At the end of the first year, we conducted a battery of cognitive and neurophysiological tests to see the affects on their development. We were amazed that the only difference we could find at the end of this remarkable year of science is that Control Two had an abnormal fear of salad tongs. In fact, just about the only thing we learned during the whole experience was that the presence of a live infant in a salad bar caused a 54% decrease in the purchase volume of “Jin House Special Ready-Mix.” Which of course, is why Jin made me rotate him to the tomato and cucumber salad at the 4 month point, and then the slightly smaller baby corn ears bin a month later, and then the croutons another – AH!!! Okay, I see why this didn’t work. Note to self: For phase II testing DO NOT change ANY of the bed variables during testing! Now where’s that phone number for Don Aszkar? -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Doll on bed of salad in shoebox, Malvern, PA This actually was a prop I made for last year’s Halloween costume entitled “50’s Dad has a Surprise” The funniest part was actually when I brought it home. My cat Nero can always tell if there are foodstuffs in any of the packages I’m carrying in the door. So I put the shoebox on my futon and he starts sniffing it as usual. Then I take the top off and he just FREAKS, jumping down off the futon and into the next room where he stayed for about 5 minutes. After cleaning up the evidence of my warped sense of humor, I threw the doll under an afghan on the futon and then brought it out later. Same thing. Totally freaked and ran away. He came back into the room doing the commando crawl and it took about an hour before he’d even get within 3 feet of it. That doll is the

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