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Science/Tech
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Title: Taco Bell serving ‘soylent gringo’? GMO corn causes concern
Source: Pocho
URL Source: http://pocho.com/gmo-corn-monsanto-taco-bell-soylent-gringo/
Published: Aug 20, 2013
Author: Victor Payan
Post Date: 2013-08-20 15:53:39 by X-15
Keywords: None
Views: 383
Comments: 13

(PNS reporting from WASHINGTON, DC) A new Food and Drug Administration study has detected a questionable strain of genetically-engineered corn in taco shells produced for Taco Bell.

“It could cause digestive problems, cramping, spasms, allergic reactions and even night blindness,” Colonel Ben Enoso of the FDA’s Genetic Corn Division told a press conference Monday. “Unfortunately, this makes it pretty hard to distinguish from other Taco Bell food items.”

The corn, which carries a gene designed to kill insect pests if eaten, has been approved as feed for animals but not humans. Scientists suspect the human body will not be able to digest a key protein in this killer corn and privately dread having to dig around for undigested corn samples afterwards.

Anti-GMO activists see this as part of a plan to sneak genetically-engineered foods into the global digestive system.

“They’re pushing this monster maize down our throats,” Barry Aguitado, spokesman for the Tortilla Liberation Front told PNS, “so corporations can control the world food supply. Then, with their Monsanto Protection Act, they’ll have us by the niblets.”

Another group, Children of the Corn, recently destroyed genetically-engineered crops in greenhouses at UCSD. “They were developing a strain of hominy that will be ineffective against the cruda,” said Han Gober, a member of the group, adding, “we had to stop them in the name of all that is holy.”

Aguitado and others accuse multinational corporations of putting profits before public health when it comes to introducing genetically-engineered foods into the human diet.

Prof. Gene Fregadera of Buscalana Laboratories disagrees. “We test all our products thoroughly on Angry Birds. They fly through the air with the greatest of ease.”

But critics are not convinced and remain mistrustful of the unseen hand of science. The FDA report follows a recent discovery in Battle Creek, MI of a seven-ton production run of Cheerios made with pet-food-grade oats — oats genetically engineered to teach dogs to play poker.

“Corporations need to stop playing with our food and keep their hands out of our genes,” Peter E. Dische, author of the groundbreaking book Our Bodies, Our Cells, wrote in a column for the Huffington Post.

“The use of genetic engineering, growth hormones and improper megafarm techniques have also created such public health disasters as Mad Cow Disease and new poultry epidemics such as Daffy Duck Disorder and the Silly Goose Syndrome.”

But how did a potentially dangerous corn strain ended up in something as basic as taco shells? Increasingly, GMO food incidents are forcing corporations like Monsanto and Taco Bell to defend their products.

At a hastily-called press conference after the release of the FDA report, a Taco Bell spokesman went on the offensive:

Taco Bell food products are perfectly safe. I’ve eaten lots of genetically engineered food, and I’m just fine. Sure, I’m a Chihuahua, and I have acquired the power of speech, but what poker-playing dog hasn’t?

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#4. To: X-15 (#0)

Another group, Children of the Corn, recently destroyed genetically-engineered crops in greenhouses at UCSD. “They were developing a strain of hominy that will be ineffective against the cruda,” said Han Gober, a member of the group, adding, “we had to stop them in the name of all that is holy.”

56
The City is visited by epidemics of violence, and the untended dead are eaten by vultures in the streets. Albinos blink in the sun. Boys sit in trees, languidly masturbate. People eaten by unknown diseases watch the passerby with evil, knowing eyes. In the City Market is the Meet Cafe. Followers of obsolete, unthinkable trades doodling in Etruscan, addicts of drugs not yet synthesized, pushers of souped-up Harmaline, junk reduced to pure habit offering precarious vegetable serenity, liquids to induce Latah, Tithonian longevity serums, black marketeers of World War III, excisors of telepathic sensitivity, osteopaths of the spirit, investigators of infractions denounced by bland paranoid chess players, servers of fragmentary warrants taken down in hebephrenic shorthand charging unspeakable mutilations of the spirit, bureaucrats of spectral departments, officials of unconstituted police states, a Lesbian dwarf who has perfected operation Bang-utot, the lung erection that strangles a sleeping enemy, sellers of orgone tanks and relaxing machines, brokers of exquisite dreams and memories tested on the sensitized cells of junk sickness and bartered for raw materials of the will, doctors skilled in the treatment of diseases dormant in the black dust of ruined cities, gathering virulence in the white blood of eyeless worms feeling slowly to the surface and the human host, maladies of the ocean floor and the stratosphere, maladies of the laboratory and atomic war.... A place where the unknown past and the emergent future meet in a vibrating soundless hum... Larval entities waiting for a Live One...

Dakmar  posted on  2013-08-20   21:26:01 ET  Reply   Untrace   Trace   Private Reply  


#7. To: Dakmar (#4)

Manna

Because no one had a window, they could really pack people into these buildings. Each terrafoam dorm building had a four-acre foot print. It was a perfect 417 foot by 417 foot by 417 foot solid brown cube. Each cube originally held exactly 76,800 people. Doubling this to 153,600 people in each building was unthinkable, but they were doing it anyway. On the other hand, you had to marvel at the efficiency. At that density, they could house every welfare recipient in the entire country in less than 1,500 of these buildings. By spacing the buildings 100 feet apart, they could house 200,000,000 people in a space of less than 20 square miles if they had wanted to. At that density, they could put everyone in the country without a job into a space less than five miles square in size, put a fence around it and forget about us. If they accidentally dropped a nuclear bomb or two on us, we would all be gone and they wouldn't have to worry about us anymore.

Esso  posted on  2013-08-20   21:45:07 ET  Reply   Untrace   Trace   Private Reply  


#8. To: Esso (#7) (Edited)

Sounds like a plan, but who is going to buy all the grape flavored tea and blinged out air freshener dispensers?

Dakmar  posted on  2013-08-20   21:49:53 ET  Reply   Untrace   Trace   Private Reply  


#9. To: Dakmar (#8)

I'm just the engineer, you need to talk to marketing.

Esso  posted on  2013-08-20   21:53:53 ET  Reply   Untrace   Trace   Private Reply  


#10. To: Esso (#9)

But there is no drag like U.S. drag. You can't see it, you don't know where it comes from. Take one of those cocktail lounges at the end of a subdivision street -- every block of houses has its own bar and drugstore and market and liquor store. You walk in and it hits you. But where does it come from? Not the bartender, not the customers, nor the cream-colored plastic rounding the bar stools, nor the dim neon. Not even the TV. And our habits build up with the drag, like cocaine will build you up staying ahead of the C bring-down. And the junk was running low. So there we are in this no-horse town strictly from cough syrup. And vomited up the syrup and drove on and on, cold spring wind whistling through that old heap around our shivering sick sweating bodies and the cold you always come down with when the junk runs out of you.... On through the peeled landscape, dead armadillos in the road and vultures over the swamp and cypress stumps. Motels with beaverboard walls, gas heater, thin pink blankets. Itinerant short con and carny hyp men have burned down the croakers of Texas.... And no one in his right mind would hit a Louisiana croaker. State Junk Law. Came at last to Houston where I know a druggist. I haven't been there in five years but he looks up and makes me with one quick look and just nods and says: "Wait over at the counter...." So I sit down and drink a cup of coffee and after a while he comes and sits beside me and says, "What do you want?" "A quart of PG and a hundred nembies." He nods, "Come back in half an hour." So when I come back he hands me a package and says, "That's fifteen dollars.... Be careful." Shooting PG is a terrible hassle, you have to burn out the alcohol first, then freeze out the camphor and draw this brown liquid off with a dropper -- have to shoot it in the vein or you get an 14 abscess, and usually end up with an abscess no matter where you shoot it. Best deal is to drink it with goof balls.... So we pour it in a Pernod bottle and start for New Orleans past iridescent lakes and orange gas flares, and swamps and garbage heaps, alligators crawling around in broken bottles and tin cans, neon arabesques of motels, marooned pimps scream obscenities at passing cars from islands of rubbish...

We missed out on this Esso, being Hoosier Hicks. A damn good thing we did if you ask me. :)

Dakmar  posted on  2013-08-20   22:08:58 ET  Reply   Untrace   Trace   Private Reply  


Replies to Comment # 10.

#12. To: Dakmar, Esso (#10)

Original_Intent  posted on  2013-08-21 00:32:13 ET  Reply   Untrace   Trace   Private Reply  


End Trace Mode for Comment # 10.

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