The Heart Attack Diet

The Heart Attack Diet

A heart attack is every American’s birthright. This book is dedicated to your heart attack. Follow these steps and make your heart attack more certain. Uncertainty is insecurity.

 

This book will walk you through decisions about care. Make sure you get the most taxpayer treatment dollars possible.

 

Tips

 

Begin with the end in mind. Know what you want. Heart attack is so easy to avoid that if you do not pursue it with singlemindedness, you could be left out in the cold, one of the few Americans to be embarrassed by missing out on a heart attack. You will not relate to others, a social pariah.

 

Always choose red meat.

Eat meat, dairy, eggs and compressed oils at every meal.

Choose animal proteins rather than plant protein.

Eat continuously. Never go unsatisfied.

Take in more calories than needed to maintain trim weight.

Avoid over-reliance on fruit and vegetables.

Barbeque often.

Include butter, shortening and lard in your diet.

Fry instead of boiling.

Eat every possible meal at fast-food outlets.

Pick soda over water.

Ice cream and pizza should be staples.

Grains: be very careful with them.

 

Recipes

 

Indian Fry Bread, Banana Splits, Pork Loin Roast, Breakfast Burritos with Eggs and Sausage, German Chocolate Cake, Deep-Fried Oreos,

Gravy on Biscuits

 

Four for the Price of One

 

Heart disease, cancer, stroke, and diabetes are all caused or aggravated by the same diet. So, by following the advice above, your mauling at the hands of the medical establishment is all but guaranteed. If you score diabetes before your heart attack, so be it. A high fat diet and avoidance of physical exercise will lead to one or all. Bundled pricing: isn’t it great?!

Best Heart Hospitals

Here are the rankings.

The advice of this book is to pick your hospital early. Consider moving closer to it.

Celebrities and Heart Attacks

 

Jerry Garcia

Dick Cheney

F. Scott Fitzgerald

John Candy

Larry King

Everyone is doing it. Heart attack’s the thing to do.

 

Wikimedia, NIH

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Fantasy Gardening

I just took down my garden. Some people play Fantasy Football; I play Fantasy Gardening. My imagination at the outset far outruns my production.

I wonder if  I’m deluding myself. Do I garden so when my mother offers vegetables from her prolific garden, I needn’t feel like a mooch?

This year’s garden wasn’t a total loss. Neither was last year’s St. Louis Rams season; they managed a few first downs. My garden scored a bowl of ripe tomatoes, first in many seasons. That makes me 2-17. The beans were exemplary, they won the Bean Bowl for a geographical area fifty feet in diameter. Whoopee!

But mostly I do gardens all wrong. We leave on vacation just ast the best part of the harvest is coming on: red zone failure. When we return, the beans and peas are stringy. I let the tomatoes droop and soil borne nasties rot them. Talk about not taking advantages of my strengths.

I did mount a good defense, though. The deer were thwarted. My 7′ fence, not a work of art, kept the munchers at bay. Now that the fence is down, I’ll wait to see if they help by stripping the foilage, or if they’re finicky and prefer the succulent stage of June and July, prior to fruit-bearing. I’m betting, nothing illegal here,  that they’ll spurn my offer of profuse vegetative stuff, and that I’ll have to pull the plants out to finish tidying up the place.

I spend way more than the $8.00 worth of produce I gain. I should get first pick in the draft for a decade.

The Odyssey

The Odyssey

By Homer

Read August, 2011

 

A book to remember. Less violent than The Iliad. I feel much better equipped to understand other writings, ancient and modern, now that I have some of these characters and scenes under my belt.

 

The theme is of going home. This is a human universal. Kid’s stories employ it. Movies, like E.T., employ it. The desire is so fundamental, it lends itself well as a theme. Home to the marriage, home to father and son, home to homeland, property, what is justly his. The role of honor and courage in asserting what is rightly his. His duty to his father and his son. His wife’s faith and troth. Personal significance, honor and identity is attained through all these connections and actions. Lineage. Modern technological advancement and allurements threaten our enjoyment of some of these universal meaning-givers. Suffering and striving is the way to conquest, glory, and rightfully claiming a birthright, an end-of-life prize, and decent respect of fellows. Proper treatment and burial of the body is enjoined. All relations are male-female, hundreds in number.

 

When Odysseus wanted to get as far from his noble nature as possible, for the purpose of his disguise, he posed as a beggar. Begging is ignoble. Sponging moochers, like the dozens of men eating the food from Odysseus’ stores, will be replaced. Their end is ugly, their dignity fully compromised, spent.

 

Now there was a man, I’d say, in words and action both!

Will not end in failure

Far from hi loved ones still

Odysseus journeys home

Suitors amusing themselves, dice, lounging

Chair of honor

They fee on another’s goods and go scot-free

Tell me about yourself, now, clearly, point by point, Who are you? Where are you from? your city? your parents?

Mother has always told me I’m his son, it’s true, but I am not so certain. Who, on his own, has ever really known who gave him life?

They say I am his son

Shameful!

Build his honors high

Reach down deep in your heart and soul for a way to kill these suitors in your house, by stealth or in open combat. You must not cling to your boyhood any longer- it’s time you were a man.

Be brave…so men will come to sing your praises down the years.

Left his spirit filled with nerve and courage

A man like a god himself

Courage, mother.

As for giving orders, men will see to that, but I most of all: I hold the reins of power in this house.

She took to heart he clear good sense in what her son had said.

Devour your own possessions

So much daring

Wealth, honors

Do hold on to your own possessions, rule your house.

The true son of Odysseus

He took his father’s seat

Oh, I’d swing to attack if I had the power in me

Disgrace

You should be ashamed of yourselves

Setting these parasites against me

There’s nothing I can do

Pin the blame

Great renown she wins for herself

Cries of shame

Destroying one man’s goods and going scot-free

A fine to crush your spirit!

Builds his honors high.

Deserves

With deep concern for the realm

They lay their lives on the line when they consume Odysses’ worldy gods

Odysseus, worn by hardship, might come home again

Your birthright

There’s a god who made this plan

Who are you?Where did you sail from, over the running sea-lanes?

To plunder other men

If ever my father, lord Odysseus, pledged you his word and made it good in action

Our best and bravest fell

The great man of war

Only after we slaved did Zeus award us victory

Odysseus…sheer cunning…. strategy he excelled us all

Be brave

I must bear up, that’s all

Do you let yourself be so abused

The great leveler, Death

Coward found the nerve

The noble

Her will was faithful still

A conquest past his maddest hopes

So you, dear boy, take care. Don’t rove from home too long, too far, leaving your own holdings unprotected- crowds in your palace so brazen they’ll carve up all your wealth, devour it all

His own loyal wife

 

The gods were sealing firm the marriage

An inspired bard sang out and struck his lyre

Just think of all the hospitality we enjoyed at the hands of other men before we made it home

Once you’ve dined, we’ll ask you who you are

Few if any could rival me in riches. Believe me, much I suffered, many a mile I roved to haul such treasures home in my ships

No one, no Achaean labored hard as Odysseus labored or achieved so much

Shameless whore that I was

When a father’s gone, his son takes much abuse in a house where no one comes to his defense.

Helen thought of something else. Into the mixing-bowl from which they drank their wine she slipped a drug, heart’s-ease, dissolving anger, magic to make us forget all our pains…(the first Prozac?)

So come, let’s back in the palace now, dine and warm our hearts with the old stories.

My heart had changed by now

I yearned to sail back home again!

Forsaking my own child, my bridal bed, my husband too, a man who lacked for neither brains nor beauty. (Helen)

What a heart that fearless Odysseus had inside him!

More than all other men, that man was born for pain.

That’s the bed of a brave man of war they’d like to crawl inside, those spineless, craven cowards! Weak

Gods are always keen to see their rules obeyed

Are you a fool, stranger- soft in the head and lazy too? Or do you let things slide because you like your pain?

Choose three men, the best you’ve got

How can you cross the swarming sea and reach home at last?

If you ever hoped for a rapid journey home across the wine-dark sea, to see your lived ones

He took that native earth in his hands and kissed it

I felt my heart, my old pride

 

Sped me home, home to the native land I love

Summoning up his newfound tact

Indignation. Blazing. Anger

Not Odysseus. Never an outrage done to any man alive. But you, your and your ugly outbursts, shameful acts

Hi father’s journey home

His line, his son’s line of kings!

Defend him from these outrageous, overbearing suitors!

Courage! Don’t be overwhelmed by all your direst fears.

The exile must return. But not in the convoy of the gods or mortal men. No, on a lashed, makeshift raft and wrung with pains.

He shall see his loved ones

A most unlucky man

Set sail for home

Destiny still ordains that he shall see his loved ones

Reach his native country

His foiled journey home

Passage home

Royal son of Laertes

To your own home

But if you only knew, down deep, what pains are fated to fill your cup before you reach that shore

Preside

As you long to see your wife

Bring the trial on!

The lost themselves in love

Returning home

I can reach my native land

Waves of exhaustion overwhelmed him now

His fighting spirit
Man of misery

His hard labors

Odysseus’ journey home

You won’t stay unwed long

Man of misery

Doomed my life to hardship

To suffer still more torments

And may the good gods give you all your heart desires: husband and house, and lasting harmony too. No finer, greater gift in the world than that…when man and woman possess their home, two minds, two hearts that work as one. Despair to their enemies, a joy to all their friends. Their own best claim to glory.

Nasty gossip. Insolent types. One of the coarser sort.

Your home’s a world away

Your loved ones, reach your own grand house, your native land at last

His native land

Be bold, nothing to fear. In every venture the bold man comes off best.

She can dissolve quarrels

Then we turn our minds to his passage home

His home’s a world away

Let me finish dinner. The belly’s a shameless dog, there’s nothing worse. Always insisting, pressing, it never lets us forget, still it keeps demanding, “Eat, drink! Fill meup!”

On his own home soil

Who are you? Where are you from?

Reach your land and house

What greater glory attends a man, while he’s alive, than what he wins with his racing feet and striving hands? Come and compete then

Passage home

You rouse my fighting blood!

Anyone with the spine and spirit

I’m no disgrace

I outclass them all

My legs have lost their spring

You simply want to display the gifts you’re born with

Safe passage home to see your wife

Remember me at times. Mainly to me you owe the gift of life.

The grimmest fight

And tell me your land, your people, your city too

Tell us your own story now

I am Odysseus, son of Laertes

Mine is a rugged land but good for raising sons- and I myself, I know no sweeter sight on earth than a man’s own native country.

Those who bore him

The voyage home

To plunder other men

Courage-no panic, no one hang back now!

If I really am your son and you claim to be my father

Into the brew she stirred her wicked drugs to wipe from their memories any thought of home

Necessity drives me on

Never unman you

Its name and nature

Who are you? where are you from? your city? your parents?

High time you thought of your home at last

Their urging brought my stubborn spirit round.

It’s time to help me home. My heart longs to be home.

No more lazing away in sleep

Don’t sail off and desert me, left unwept, unburied, don’t, or my curse may draw god’s fury on your head.

Even so, you and your crew may still reach home, suffering all the way, if you only have the power to curb their wild desire and curb your own

And at last your own death will steal upon you…a gentle, painless death, far from the sea it comes to take you down, borne down with the years in ripe old age with all your people there in blessed peace around you.

Always wandering-endless hardship

Each declared her lineage

Bedded. Had consummated his work of love. Merged in love.

So I died-a wretched, ignominious death

My life is endless trouble

Did the boy become a champion?

His fair share

His gallant, glorious son

Forced to slave for a man not half the man I was

You must decide for yourself

Your fighting spirit’s stronger than ours, your stamina never fails

Yearning now to be gone and home once more

Though his knees buckle, struggling home at last

May I find an unswerving wife when I reach home, and loved ones hale

Delight in your loyal wives and children, (spoken to his men)

May you take joy in this house of yours, in your children, your people, in Alcinous the king!

With his fair share!

Where on earth am I?

The trials…Endure them all. You must. You have no choice. And to no one-no man no woman, not a soul- reveal that you are the wanderer home at last. No, in silence you must bear a world of pain, subject yourself to the cruel abuse of men.

Brings my son to manhood!

Fire me with daring

Good name and all!

I am a rich man’s son

I was no fool and never shirked a fight

The labor that raises crops of shining children

Each man delights in the work that suits him best.

Taking joy in my children, loyal wife and lovely plunder

Bronze and gold and plenty of hard wrought iron, enough to last a man and ten generations of his heirs

Just think of the praise and fame I’d win among mankind, now and for all time to come.

The man for all occasions

The heart inside me longs for home at last

Going home

Balance is best in all things

Honor and glory to us

I must go back to my own home at once…to guard my own possessions…or lose some priceless treasure from my house!

Return in joy to your own grand house, your native land at last.

I mean to go to town and do my begging, not be a drain on you and all your men.

Find a handout

Spare me a plateful? Look at all they have! I’d do good work for them, promptly, anything they want.

Tramping about the world-there’s nothing worse for a man, But the fact is that men put up with misery to stuff their cursed bellies.

Her death is the worst blow he’s had to suffer

As a father, brimming with love, welcomes home his darling only son in a warm embrace, home now, “You’re home…home at last.”

Her life an endless hardship

True to her husband’s bed, the people’s voice as well

It’s hard for a man to win his way against a mob, even a man of iron. They are much too strong.

I am your father

I have come home to native ground at last

Both men so filled with compassion

I like to tell the truth and tell it plainly

The wayworn stranger home

A stiff following wind that sped me home to the native land I love.

And so the servant led his master toward the city, looking for all the world like an old and broken beggar

Learned his lazy ways

He steeled himself instead, his mind in full control

My heart is steeled by now

Bring the trial on

Like an old and broken beggar, his body wrapped in shameful rags

Beg from one and all. Bashfulness, for a man in need, is no great friend.

Who is this? Where’s he from?

Who the fellow is or where he thinks he comes from

Bent on feeding your own face

Shameless beggar! Scrounging food from each man in turn, and look at their handouts, reckless, never a qualm, no holding back, not making free with the next man’s goods

Hard-pressed by need

Look out for your own skin first

This tramp, this public nuisance, who used to scrounge a living round the streets of Ithaca-notorious for his belly, a ravenous, bottomless pit for food and drink, but he had no pith, no brawn.

Insatiable tramp

The one who knew the world

Steel his heart

The renown I had would only grow in glory

Lazy ways…you’ve got no itch to stick to good hard work…begging

So much daring

I won’t put up with a man who shirks his work

I dread the shame my countrywomen would heap upon me

 

Odysseus, man of exploits, will be home with you

Yearning now to be gone and home once more

Though his knees buckle, struggling home at last

May I find an unswerving wife when I reach home, and loved ones

May you take joy in this house of yours, in your children, your people, in Alcinous, the king!

With his fair share!

Where on earth am I?

All the spoil I’d won atTroy, the plunder I went to hell and back to capture

The trials…Endure them all. You must. You have no choice. And to no one-no man, no woman, not a soul-reveal that you are a wanderer home at last. No, in silence you must bear a world of pain, subject yourself to the cruel abuse of men.

Brings my son to manhood!

Fire me with daring

Stranger devour our livelihood

Shame

Stoops to peddling lies

His sense of balance

Good name and all!

Who are you? Where are you from? Your city? Your parents?

I am a rich man’s son.

I was no fool and never shirked a fight.

The labor that raises crops of shining children

Taking joy in my children, loyal wife and lovely plunder

Treated me kindly, asked for no reward at all

Bronze and gold and plenty of hard wrought iron, enough to last a man and ten generations of his heirs

Think of the praise and fame I’d win among mankind, now and for all time to come

The man for all occasions

Wrong to rove so far, so long from home, leaving your own holdings unprotected-crowds in your palace so brazen they’ll carve up your wealth, devour it all

True to you as always

The heart inside me longs for home at last

Going home

It’s honor and glory to us

I must go back to my own home at once, to guard my own possessions, or lose some priceless treasure from my house!

Return in joy…to your own grand house

Do my begging, not be a drain on you and all your men

Find a handout

Spare me a plateful? Look at all they have! I’d do good work for them.

Tramping about the world-there’s nothing worse for a man. But the fact is that men put up with misery to stuff their cursed bellies.

For his wife…her death is the worst blow he’s had to suffer

As a father, brimming with love, welcomes home his darling son

You’re home

Her life and endless hardship

True to her husband’s bed, the people’s voice as well

It’s hard for a man to win his way against a mob, even a man of iron. They are much too strong.

He wastes away

I am your father

Odysseus kissed his son

I have come  home to native ground at last

Both men so filled with compassion

I like to tell the truth and tell it plainly

A stiff following wind that sped me home to the native land I love

Learned his lazy ways too well

He steeled himself instead, his mind in full control

My heart is steeled by now. Bring the trial on.

Bent on feeding your own face

Shameless beggar, scrounging food, handouts, never a qualm, no holding back when making free with the next man’s goods

Hard-pressed by need

I know all about that man…it’s been my lot to suffer what he’s suffered

Look out for your own skin first

This tramp, this public nuisance, scrounge, notorious for his belly, a ravenous, bottomless pit for food and drink, but he had no pith, no brawn.

You’ve got no call to grudge me what’s not yours

They all mouthed the oath that he required

Insatiable tramp

The one who knew the world

You surpass all women in build and beauty, refined and steady mind.

The renown I had would only grow in glory

Accept the. How ungracious to turn those gifts away!

You’ve learned your lazy ways too well, you’ve got noo itch to stick to good hard work, begging

A puny crowd, ill-bred to boot

You odious

So much daring

I won’t put up with a man who shirks his work

He’s come of age at last

A kingdom vast, proud and strong

I yearn for Odysseus

I dread the shame my countrywomen would heap upon me

Their minds work as one

Odysseus will return!

So sensible, so apt, in every word you say

He told his tale with style

Filled with the best that life can offer

Odysseus, man of exploits, will be home with you!

Their outrage

But you held fast

So he forced his spirit into submission, the rage in his breast reined back-unswerving, all endurance.

Guards you in all your trials to the last

Never let me warm the heart of a weaker man!

She stood beside him, knew him, now, at last

He’d grind the scoundrels’ lives out in revenge

They’ve got no sense of shame.

What roots does this man claim-who are his people? Where are his blood kin? His father’s fields?

Odysseus will come home

My father won it for me, so it’s mine

A lawless boor

I’d rather die, yes, better that by far, than have to look on at your outrage day by day: guests treated to blows, men dragging the serving women through our noble house, exploiting them all, no shame!

The one who offers most

I have eyes and ears, and both my feet, still, and a head that’s fairly sound, nothing to be ashamed of. These will do

A useless dead weight on the land

A young boy on a mission

A distant embassy made to right that wrong

Ties that bind

The man I follow

Hi tensing zeal

Wounded pride

A disgrace to ring in the ears of men to come

You filthy drifter! Feast at your ease with us, the island’s pride?

We’ll hang our heads in shame

How can you hope for any public fame at all? You who disgrace, devour a great man’s house and home!

I hold the reins of power in this house

If you serve too many masters, you’ll soon suffer

In his house

Your crucial test is finished now, at last!

Give me glory!

Paid for all your crimes!

So fight-call up the joy of battle! Swords out!

She kept on testing Odysseus and his gallant son, putting their force and fighting heart to proof.

Carry off the glory!

Clearly doing good puts doing bad to shame.

Overcome with a lovely longing, broke down and wept…deep in his heart he knew them one and all.

Her husband was here now, home at last. He’s come home, at long last!

You two can embark, loving hearts, along the road to joy.

Home at his hearth, and found you, found his son.

He’s paid them back, right in his own house!

The son we bore together.

We two will know each other, even better-we two have secret signs, known to us both but hidden from the world.

Home at last for her

The most understanding man alive

 

The soul of loyalty, in his arms at last

Let’s go to bed, dear woman-at long last delight in sleep, delight in each other, come!

There’s hope that we’ll escape our trials at last

So husband and wife confided in each other

Rejoicing in each other, they returned to their bed, the old familiar place they loved so well

Now that we’ve arrived at our bed together

He had a heart of iron

The solemn honors owed the dead

Long-enduring Odysseus

Father-I am your son. Home after twenty years.

Hugged him to his heart

So father and son confirmed each other’s spirits

Knew him in their bones

All disgraced, even by generations down the years, If we don’t punish the murderers of our brothers and our sons!

You’ll learn soon enough-as you move up to fight where champions strive to prove themselves the best

Laertes called out in deep delight, What a day for me, dear gods! What joy-my son and my grandson vying over courage!