Now initially you might think you don't need or even want to know about
butyrate (ˈbjuːtɪˌreɪt) noun,
any salt or ester of butyric acid, containing the monovalent group C3H7COO- or ion C3H7COO–, and when you then bumped into this, having first found out it is in butter, you might well panic:
Examples of butyrate in a Sentence
Recent Examples on the Web
Clear plastic screwdriver handles are usually made from cellulose acetate butyrate, a material developed in the 1930s.
— Roy Berendsohn, Popular Mechanics, "Why Do My Old Plastic Screwdriver Handles Stink?," 8 Oct. 2017
But then you would realize that lately it has had a great rise in reputation and helps maintain your biodome and aids in the production of key neurotransmitters that help both our gut and our brains to work. Apparently we make it when bacteria in our bellies ferment high fibre carbohydrates, but it is also, and here is the punchline, found in butter! The highest food source for it. I am relieved, and think I will just butter up everything!
At least these verbose scientist think so:
The neuropharmacology of butyrate: The bread and butter of the microbiota-gut-brain axis?
😉 😐 😡 😈 🙂 😯 🙁 🙄 😛 😳 😮
😆 💡 😀 👿 😥 😎 ➡ 😕 ❓ ❗
I have to refresh the page to get them back after I comment.
Well, what a long strange trip it has been.
In the roughly 15 year history of social media, I’ve gone through the entire life cycle in maybe 4-5 years.
From being completely green, and trusting everyone, and getting emotionally attached to everyone, to getting a little suspicious, to starting to see an us vs them in everything, to being a moderator and trying to steer things back onto an even productive keel, to going through the angry phase, first you want to kill the bad guys, and then you start to snark the good guys too just because all they do is remind you of the bad guys, and you just don’t need that in your life, to just detaching completely, and then realizing there’s no need to comment or engage at all, because it’s healthier, and you start to think you’d be years younger if you had never done any of it at all, and oh how many hours and years of your life have been wasted, and how many points higher your blood sugar and your blood pressure are now compared to where they would be if you had never gone down that road in the first place. Oy.
I do love you guys. It doesn’t always sound like it lately, but I do.
Good luck all. And Hey, Mrs. O got a new job. She starts tomorrow. And those dumbasses that strung her along for 6 months, and told her they decided to go another way, finally called her back, begging, and she got the satisfaction of telling them it’s too late I already went elsewhere. And the HR lady was like “Damnit, I told them to hire you right away!” Sorry lady. Ya Schnooze, Ya Looze. For 6 months you fuckers could have had her with a word. But you dithered and dithered. Couldn’t decide what the hell you wanted. But eventually, in her words, “I fell in love with another beau.”.
As I have often said, I am not one to throw out the baby with the bath water.
We are going to sleep on the boat, even if it is on land!
i just turned 50, and a day. fuck it. sorry for all the ruckus.
Ha! You are but a baby! No sympathy from us older folks. Actually, plenty. 50 is a difficult number to accept. I had to extend my life expectancy to remain at half-way. You get used to it, and are allowed to loathe youth, with a little extra passion.
Yes, I was watching Netflix. Chef’s Table.
thanks Xty. things actually are looking up. i made sure that for my first full day in my fiddies i felt like crap – i woke up with a hangover. and we just had another “polar vortex” so i can enjoy replanting all of my pepper plants (3rd time) tomorrow with the return of spring weather. so brighter days are immediately eminent. 🙂
how was the first night on the boat? sure hope you had plenty of blankets.
sure do miss that edit feature. of course i meant “imminent”. could you discard the spell check feature and please replace it with a grammar checker?
strange things are happening. i refreshed the page like you suggested yesterday and the edit feature reloaded. i think i will quit while i am ahead.
There was a wordpress update, a theme update, and not necessarily all plugins update. And there is a confusing battle between them, as far as I can tell. I think I need to deactivate all of them and add them one by one until we have the minimally accepted functionality. I am able to post from imgur but you can’t … this kind of thing drives me crazy. But I doubled the edit time allowed to 2 hours, and if you reload, as you noticed, the button does seem to reappear. I see there are four updates available in wordpress this morning … wish us all luck. Mostly they have been invisible, but I think the recent wordpress one might have been significant. Isn’t this interesting?
I think this is the best compromise for the moment.
Despite having to reload to regain the edit buttons and emoticons.
As to the picture thingy, I will repaste the url that imgur gives me, and maybe you (DP) could just copy the second half and replace the actual string that identifies the picture. A cluge but it might work. But you do have to resize before you upload.
I will give a go at restoring the add image feature but it seems broken at my end too.
{a href=”http://imgur.com/7cLIqeC”}{img src=”http://i.imgur.com/7cLIqeC.jpg” title=”source: imgur.com” /}{/a}
I replaced the carrots with { and } to get the url to show. But it is just cutted and pasted from imgur.
The html code that is. They give a whole bunch of options.
next time i have another photograph or some computer art to share i will give it another go.
i replanted my peppers today, but left the old ones in the ground. we just had three nights in a row down to around 40F (about 4.5C) and that is enough to stunt them. we are having a late spring, and i just don’t want to risk it. last season was sort of a bust, and we are seemingly in the exact same weather pattern again. if the weather gets back to normal, maybe i will have too many peppers, which sure beats not enough. my tomatillos are doing well, so even if my tomatoes are real late, i should have all i need for my mean and green Pico de Gallo, and hopefully by mid- July, since i paid the price and bought a few jumbo sized jalapeño plants already with flowers.
but i ramble. 😉
may i present the voice of the other 1 percent. (Americans that are not morons!)
http://blogs.wsj.com/economics/2015/06/02/grand-central-a-letter-to-stingy-american-consumers/tab/comments/
Good morning. Grand Central, where humour went tragically wrong. I realised it was satire, if poor satire, while reading it, but obviously the commenters went straight for the guy’s throat. Perhaps that means it was good satire? It sure provoked people.
And back to an old theme – the statistics we get are impossible to interpret these days, and we are forever being told huge, unmeasurable “facts” that can’t be known. I was having a discussion with offspring #2 the other day about climate and we got on to whether or not there had been more hurricanes in the recent past … well all I can tell you is that by President, Obama has done a much better job at not having hurricanes than GWB, but Grover Cleveland and FDR were the worst. Ahh, meaningless statistics … so much fun. But a useful lesson in remembering that just because you can count something doesn’t make it informative.
https://stevengoddard.wordpress.com/2013/05/08/obama-has-had-the-fewest-hurricanes-of-any-president/
I am off to Toronto today, and as the wake approaches I do find myself getting scattered and indecisive. I am such a hermit at heart … but other people require these things, and as I recall from an excellent philosophy of religion class, one of the most prevalent features of religions is ceremonies that demarcate the passage of time. Births, weddings and deaths being the three key ones. Now mum is 3 for 3, and we will mark the passage of time.
poor satire is right. even if better presented, this guy was not the one to do it. Jon Hilsenrath is an unofficial mouthpiece for the Federal Reserve. this is not seriously disputed.
“there are lies, damn lies, and statistics.”
today might be pleasant for you. hope all goes well.
Personally, I would rather eat an Irish infant than explain to Mr Hilsenrath what real biting (haha) satire looks like.
A MODEST PROPOSAL
For preventing the children of poor people in Ireland,
from being a burden on their parents or country,
and for making them beneficial to the publick.
i am fairly certain that classic example of satire was referenced in one of the comments.
i would like it if the article and comments would get wider media coverage which is admittedly doubtful. but i will grant that even too see the WSJ blunder so horribly gives me some hope.
À la lanterne!
You will have to put up with my madness ( or not) over the next little while. I am quite happily going to go crazy. And I am drinking on a train. But a la lantern couldn’t help but make me think of the Dong with the Luminous Nose:
When awful darkness and silence reign
Over the great Gromboolian plain,
Through the long, long wintry nights;–
When the angry breakers roar
As they beat on the rocky shore;–
When Storm-clouds brood on the towering heights
Of the Hills of the Chankly Bore:–
Then, through the vast and gloomy dark,
There moves what seems a fiery spark,
A lonely spark with silvery rays
Piercing the coal-black night,–
A Meteor strange and bright:–
Hither and thither the vision strays,
A single lurid light.
Slowly it wanders,–pauses,–creeeps,–
Anon it sparkles,–flashes and leaps;
And ever as onward it gleaming goes
A light on the Bong-tree stems it throws.
And those who watch at that midnight hour
From Hall or Terrace, or lofty Tower,
Cry, as the wild light passes along,–
‘The Dong!–the Dong!
‘The wandering Dong through the forest goes!
‘The Dong! the Dong!
‘The Dong with a luminous Nose!’
Long years ago
The Dong was happy and gay,
Till he fell in love with a Jumbly Girl
Who came to those shores one day,
For the Jumblies came in a sieve, they did,–
Landing at eve near the Zemmery Fidd
Where the Oblong Oysters grow,
And the rocks are smooth and gray.
And all the woods and the valleys rang
With the Chorus they daily and nightly sang,–
‘Far and few, far and few,
Are the lands where the Jumblies live;
Their heads are green, and their hands are blue
And they went to sea in a sieve.’
Happily, happily passed those days!
While the cheerful Jumblies staid;
They danced in circlets all night long,
To the plaintive pipe of the lively Dong,
In moonlight, shine, or shade.
For day and night he was always there
By the side of the Jumbly Girl so fair,
With her sky-blue hands, and her sea-green hair.
Till the morning came of that hateful day
When the Jumblies sailed in their sieve away,
And the Dong was left on the cruel shore
Gazing–gazing for evermore,–
Ever keeping his weary eyes on
That pea-green sail on the far horizon,–
Singing the Jumbly Chorus still
As he sate all day on the grassy hill,–
‘Far and few, far and few,
Are the lands where the Jumblies live;
Their heads are green, and their hands are blue
And they went to sea in a sieve.’
But when the sun was low in the West,
The Dong arose and said;–
–‘What little sense I once possessed
‘Has quite gone out of my head!’–
And since that day he wanders still
By lake or forest, marsh and hill,
Singing–‘O somewhere, in valley or plain
‘Might I find my Jumbly Girl again!
‘For ever I’ll seek by lake and shore
‘Till I find my Jumbly Girl once more!’
Playing a pipe with silvery squeaks,
Since then his Jumbly Girl he seeks,
And because by night he could not see,
He gathered the bark of the Twangum Tree
On the flowery plain that grows.
And he wove him a wondrous Nose,–
A Nose as strange as a Nose could be!
Of vast proportions and painted red,
And tied with cords to the back of his head.
–In a hollow rounded space it ended
With a luminous Lamp within suspended,
All fenced about
With a bandage stout
To prevent the wind from blowing it out;–
And with holes all round to send the light,
In gleaming rays on the dismal night.
And now each night, and all night long,
Over those plains still roams the Dong;
And above the wall of the Chimp and Snipe
You may hear the sqeak of his plaintive pipe
While ever he seeks, but seeks in vain
To meet with his Jumbly Girl again;
Lonely and wild–all night he goes,–
The Dong with a luminous Nose!
And all who watch at the midnight hour,
From Hall or Terrace, or lofty Tower,
Cry, as they trace the Meteor bright,
Moving along through the dreary night,–
‘This is the hour when forth he goes,
‘The Dong with a luminous Nose!
‘Yonder–over the plain he goes,
‘He goes!
‘He goes;
‘The Dong with a luminous Nose!’
http://www.nonsenselit.org/Lear/ll/dln.html
http://www.theparisreview.org/blog/2012/05/17/serious-nonsense/
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pIKsHh3BFPI
Did that work? VIA is blocking my streaming … I have been listening to the same songs over and over.
Ahh the answer from this end is no.
It was the Kinks. I should have played Alcohol. But mostly I have been eating gummy bears from the West Coast.
Do you ever feel super crabby but filled with love? I loathe and love my fellow man.
Listening to wide Mouth Mason. Smile, Sugarcane, Empty Seat …
Dang what a band … and then they kind of blew it … I always suspect they were over managed.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PMzffiSfHzI
Passing through Port Hope where hubby’s maternal family made a stand. And in one of life’s very odd moments hubby’s mother’s brother (his uncle) wrote the anthem for my neighbourhood’s succession from Canada, when we became the Republic of Rathnelly and appointed a queen, whom I now realise with full irony was undoubtedly a gay woman. She lived with a wonderful woman who ended up type setting my grandfather’s (mum’s dad’s) autobiography, which we lovingly subtitled “as told to” as in Bertie Wilkinson, an Autobiography, as told to him by those who were paying attention.”
But boy I loved his inattention.
I had always loved my granny Tiny, my dad’s mum, but she had obviously loved me. Grandpa Bertie was the first old person I just loved … and could touch and bask in his love. No judgement, just love. And in a strange way my mum could tap into that … just loving you for being there.
A cottage? Yes well, I have never pretended I wasn’t a child of ludicrous privilege.
Dp – you could always email me an imgur link if you want and I will try and post it.
Should I contact the Toronto police and ask them where I can legally smoke weed? I am so tempted. I got all sorts of literature about knowing my rights and just filled out a survey that asked questions about stigma, and frankly I am appalled by same. A good friend just told me about how he has had to defend me as someone who has seriously tried everything imaginable including surgery, and sees me not changing into a monster when I sneak away, and has seen me at my worst with big Pharma. And he wants to disapprove through cultural bias. I think the answer is begging in the question.
And just to be disgusting, I think I finally found out what tea-bagging is meant to mean and I have to ask, does anyone really find that pleasurable? I knew it was slander, and I don’t mean to defend the tea-party but I knew there was something juvenile I was missing. Excuse me while I barf. Where is Clarence Thomas? Was that an appalling segue?
Well you will never believe who delivered the speech at my nephew’s convocation from U of T’s law school. Paul Volcker. He is a very tall man.
http://www.news.utoronto.ca/convocation-2015-economist-white-house-advisor-paul-volcker-receives-honorary-degree-u-t
let me start off by admitting that i have been drinking. that said, i am tempted to create a new log-in for TFMR. any disturbance or even mayhem i would cause
by posting would be coincidental to my own selfish amusement and not due in any way to spite. not anymore. so now go and read GL’s latest. and was i right or was i right? dunzo. TFMR is definitely down to the very last, most extreme losers.
i also have an image to post with this, but that feature no longer works. you have all seen it before anyway. but if Dude posts tonight i will figure out a way to make it happen.
i am guilty. i admit it. time to move on. but that is what we all have in common. after that, maybe not that much.
i continue to struggle financially. i am educated, hard working, intelligent, and easy to get along with. but in this economy that does not mean shit. so that is my excuse for kicking that beehive now and then. i am still pissed that i lost my retirement money. i am pissed that certain characters on the internet have not missed a beat.
i did have something in common with a few of the people left there, and i do feel sorry for a few of them. but it is hard to tell who is real, and who is role playing. you know what i mean.
well enough for today. drinking on a Friday night is at best a temporary escape. back to reality. i only have to get through today, right? i have enough food and a roof so looks good.
thanks for listening and ttyl. well, i hope so anyway. Dude and 44 – we had the most in common. hope you guys are still lurking.
turns out drinking on Saturday night doesn’t help much either.