epimethius

Ever ready to take recourse to its core values—seemingly that of safeguarding the interest of powerful industry lobbies that know no bounds of patriotism but are exceedingly well-versed in all sorts of jingoism—the United States invoked a star-spangled jibe at its European allies during the G7 summit, which seemed to make quick amends of all America's recent transgressions and wiped the collective memories of those in attendance.

Of course the character of the meeting was drastically changed by its omission, though not shying from acknowledging the new by-laws and membership, and though some of the original rhetoric—that of curtailing nuclear proliferation, made the edit of more immediate and reactionary issues however countered with a demonstration of crouching prowess courtesy of the North Koreans with a test-launch of mid-range rockets—no one attempted to ignore what is happening on the periphery of Europe with the Russian incursion into the Crimea and further advances expected by the West. The exhortation for action and unity was certainly not an empty one, nothing schmaltzy or sentimental (but perhaps would have been taken so in a different context), since we all are really heirs to this peace, though probably not in the same ways as the venue was constructed, but it was a opportune one that has been maybe overlooked, as a comforting elision. In order to sway, I believe, those resistant to adopting wholesale the latest free-trade pact with the US, negotiated in secret and having accumulated many justified reservations over the standards of environmental and labour protections—or copyright embodied by the elusive Atomium landmark of Belgium and promises of endless prosperity that seem impossible to fulfill on a mutual level without losers, the current situation was nuanced to embrace a fuel-independence for Europe that America could help alleviate, as if by opening up a valve that would magically siphon US frack-gas (refined) to the Continent, with the condition of accepting all the other conditions, like accepting GM foods without stint or disclosure. Hopefully politicians will realise the awkwardness of this pitch afterwards and appreciate that acceptance of a commercial-accord is not the moral-imperative called upon.

hippocratic oath

The proper symbol and signature of the medical arts is the Staff of Asclepius, represented by a snake entwined upon a walking-stick in reference to the mythological doctor and founder of the science.

The sign, however, is often conflated, especially in the United States, with the Caduceus, a symbol of Apollo—his father, two winged snakes in a helix, like DNA, due to the singular insistence of one unit commander of the US army's cadet medical enterprise who was convinced he was correct and that two snakes were better than one and looked a bit better as a unit badge. The emblem of Asclepius himself is of uncertain origins and may represent the dual nature of medicine, with either the ability to support in the right doses or toxic when dispensed too freely, and indeed, supplicants who went to places sacred to Asclepius to be healed found themselves in a den of non-venomous serpents and is immortalised in the night-sky in the constellation Ophiucus, the snake-handler. Some think that the mistaken Caduceus is a perfectly valid symbol, ironically, for modern medical practises, as Apollo was basically the traveling salesman of the gods and sold a good line—rather the ambulance-chaser instead of the ambulance, and possibly an inherited-trait.
Some traditions hold that Asclepius was struck down by a bolt from Zeus for bringing back to life the other tragic character of Hippolytus in exchange for a handsome treasure. Apollo, in turn, killed the Cyclopes, outraged, who forged Zeus' righteous thunder. Asclepius was resurrected and placed among the stars in order to restore Zeus' quiver. This confusion is mostly regulated mostly to institutions in the States, however other agencies have incorporated the family crest appropriately, like the licensed dispensaries in Germany, who hang the sign of the Bowl of Hygieia, one of Asclepius' graceful daughters who was able to charm the enduring spectre of over-medication.

señorita woundy-face

Although an independent Scotland has already extended assurances that, like all the Commonwealth Realms, it would continue to recognise Queen Elizabeth II as their liege and there is the possibility too that Scotland may choose to form a republic and reject all royalty, the local's Spanish edition shares an interesting speculation:

the 18th Duchess of Alba de Tormes, the Grandee of Spain, could be created as monarch of the Scots. The clue is in the doña's barreled name, which honours all her ancestors, María del Rosario Cayetana Fitz-James Stuart y Silva—reaching back to a time before the union of Scotland and England, not counting some forty other styles and honours. Although such a change probably won't come to pass, it would be a fitting foil (to reject the Windsors) to the UK threatening Scottish exclusion to the pound Sterling if they secede.

gustatory hallucinogen

It seems rather strange that the sense of taste is a myth-bearer, and once disabused of these traditional beliefs, the contrary is still widely held, and usually as only an enhancement to the palette.
Consider this keen little primer on the distinct taste of umani—otherwise savouriness that went dismissed for a century after its isolation, an infusion by a European chef and a Japanese chemist of a new understanding of cuisine, as some imaginary and unwelcome addition to the accepted panoply of flavours, sweet, salty, bitter and sour. Asian dishes often carry notes of this taste, as do many preserved and processed foods (which surely adds to their appeal and possibly accounts for the delayed recognition) but is also present in pungent cheeses, tomatoes and mushrooms. The tongue itself was subject to misunderstanding, the terrior of tastes popularised and stuck by a poorly translated anatomic treatise by German doctor D. P. Henig, who in 1901 first described the taste-buds, papillae, which can each detect the spectrum of flavours, regardless of location. I just found it odd that umani has sort of crept in as something as created or added and not something revealed, and it seems like people are quicker to accept concepts like self-styled (mostly) super-smellers and super-tasters or synesthesia, where perceptions are automatically assigned with other cognitive macros, giving colours to the days of the week. What do you think? Are such nuances real and made digestible by giving them a scientific reality?

fyrom, kfor or wag-the-dog

Veteran reporter and author, Masha Gessen writing for Slate, shares her warzone coverage memories on the anniversary, nearly fifteen years ago to the day, when in 1999 NATO forces, under US leadership, began the intervention in Kosovo, and their presence remains today.

Gessen poses an interesting theory regarding the first bombing campaign within the former Soviet sphere of influence that came as a surprise to the old guard, a grave slight with no private warning of NATO's encroachment and roundly reenforced the idea that Russia no longer held super-power status (the wounded egos sound already smack eerily similar to the current reaction of America, taken by surprise by Russia's maneuvers in the Crimea): that the affront—then matched with an accelerated conflict in Chechnya, over Serbia and the splintered Yugoslav states made a lasting impression on the once and future king, Vladimir Putin, made heir-apparent later that same year by a retiring Boris Yeltsin. I admit that I did think that this sort of patient revenge was rather a reach initially, even considering the mention of the actions by the West in his speech, until fully reading the analysis and comparisons drawn. After the spate of over-throws of the Arab Spring, I think the West became dangerously inured to a revolutionary template, and even despite hard lessons, excepted Ukraine to proceed according to certain protocols and there's no real appetite or wherewithal for more.

toraberuposutā

Collectors' Weekly has a brilliant gallery of previously unknown Japanese deco-era travel posters, from a forgotten lot printed in the 1930s when Japan was beginning to expand its railway network and promote domestic tourism. These works of art had very limited circulation and the collection was an interpretation of the style that I had never seen before that seem equally rooted in traditional art—neither had the experts who brought the rarities to auction.

flatfish or here's mud in your eye

We experimented with a nice recipe calling for halibut served on a bed of fennel slaw with mustard sauce. The fish's scientific name is hippoglossus from the Greek for horse-tongue, referring to the shape of the fish's body and not to its more distinctive, I think, feature of having one of its eyes migrate over to the other side of its head as it flounders its adult life on the sea floor. The common name, halibut, means holy-flatfish, as it is very popular for feast days of obligation during Lent.

For two to three portions, one will need:

• 500 – 600 grams of Halibut (fresh or fully thawed)
• 100 ml of cream
• 2 stalks of leek 
• 1 good sized fennel root
• 1 small onion
• 1 large carrot 
• Four to six small potatoes
• 1 glass of dry white wine
• Aluminum foil, Salt, butter, and one tablespoon of Dijon Mustard

First, divide the fish into serving sizes and briefly fry them, just browning the surface but not cooked thoroughly as it will be steamed later, in a pan with butter and then set aside. Pulse the leeks, fennel and carrot in a food-processor into a fine and thin slaw. Meanwhile, pre-heat your oven to about 180°C and make little pouches out of the foil, one for each portion of the Halibut and divide the slaw among them. Douse each pouch with the white wine and fold and pouch so they don't leak. Place the pouches back in the oven and allow to steam for around fifteen minutes (depending on the type of potato), while boiling the potatoes, peeled and in lightly salted water. Cube the onion and introduce it to a pan with some butter. Remove the foil pouches from the oven and carefully empty the liquid, fond (stock) into the frying pan and stir in the cream and mustard, with a little sauce to taste. Allow the fond to thicken a bit, only frying it for a minute or so, to use as a zesty sauce for the fish and bed of slaw.