Nebraska Firm Recalls Beef Tongues That Contain Prohibited Materials

Those "Prohibited Materials"? Tonsils.

What's so wrong with (gag) beef tonsils?

Yep: Mad cow.

Tonsils are considered a specified risk material (SRM) and must be removed from cattle of all ages in accordance with FSIS regulations. SRMs are tissues that are known to contain the infective agent in cattle infected with Bovine Spongiform Encephalopathy (BSE), as well as materials that are closely associated with these potentially infective tissues.

Don't eat your beef-tongues-with-tonsils with the following brand names:

"J.F. O'NEILL PACKING CO.," "WHOLE FOODS NATURAL," "WHOLE FOODS ORGANIC," "PREMIER PROTEIN PARTNERS," "MONTANA RANCH BRAND," "GRASSLAND BEEF," "AUSTIN MEATS," "MORGAN RANCH," "KOBE BEEF AMERICA," "IMPERIAL WAGYU BEEF," "BRAND ADVANTAGE WAGYU," "BRAND ADVANTAGE PARTNERS," "YAMAYA U.S.A.," and "A.D. ROSENBLATT."

I am now very, very unhungry. Perhaps forever.

P.S. Have you seen Food, Inc. yet? It's out on DVD.

I was intrigued to find what the true nature of Dominic Holden's article was. From the cover I figured the worst: the head of the KKK, some Neo-Nazi, maybe even Bill O'Reilly. Instead, I found average, albeit uninformed, voters and campaign contributors. The way these morons were made into villains was pretty low, I'd say. The portraits that accompanied the article were particularly tasteless, especially considering that Holden didn't even speak with these people in person. The question "Why Do You Hate Me?" was framed inappropriately for the interviewees, and Holden just put them on display as monsters.

This is no way to start a dialog between people who totally misunderstand each other, and you're certainly not changing anyone's mind, although I'm not sure that's what you were going for. I really didn't know what Holden's intentions were.

Next time, pick on someone your own size. Someone really evil.

Eric Gordon

Your "Why Do You Hate Me?" is an amazing look into a part of our society that I would otherwise never see. Thank you for that great piece of reportage.

Jay T Scott

The debate rages on in online comments over here.

• MARK KAUFMAN
• Particularly tasteless, these here portraits.

I have a tip for Metro:

TURN ON YOUR FUCKING AIR CONDITIONING
WHAT THE FUCKING FUCK
It's 100 degrees outside and you know what? It's even hotter on a bus that is crawling through downtown traffic than off that bus. That's a quick way to make people ditch a lengthy commute for the air cooled luxury of a single-occupied vehicle blasting down I-5

Oh, and the 26 local behind my 26 express? Windows closed up tight. To keep all that delicious comfort inside
Jesus Fucking Christ

Oh yeah, is there a legitimate reason I saw so many buses with all their windows open (no AC, clearly)?

This week alone I've seen the following:

• People running or walking their dogs on hot pavement (it burns their pads).
• People leaving their dogs in cars: Gray Nissan [license plate number redacted] at University Village, shame on you.
• People leaving their dogs tied outside of resturants while they cool their heels in the air conditioning inside.

Are these people stupid, selfish, thoughtless, or insane?

I work at an animal hospital. I see the heat stroke, vomiting, and organ failure 15 minutes in a hot car can cause.

Get a grip, Seattleites... be mindful or let someone else raise your pet.

D. Kaye

Photo by Archie McPhee Seattle from The Stranger's flickr pool.

Now I'm not pretending like this is a great piece of art, but I painted it and hung it to spread a smile around my neighborhood. An old telephone pole had been updated and all that remained was an urban stump. I was inspired to create the attached, but within 90 minutes of me hanging it, it was gone.

I live in Wallingford, which teems with children and 30- to 40-something breeders, all of whom might enjoy the nod to the great Doctor. But, no, you had to steal their chuckle.

Perhaps this admittedly crude painting will hang in your dorm room or stoner basement, but guess what: Without context it has no point. It is not funny. You fucking suck and I hope you die, punk.

DOUG.

TRAIN ENGINEERS ARE TOO HORNY

Living perched on top of Beacon Hill sure has its disadvantages. One major one is that you’re upwind of SODO and hear every passing train. It is the most annoying sound I’ve ever come to know. Downtown there are no-whistle zones for the well-to-do yuppies in their condos; look at the "No train horn" signs from Alaskan Way if you don't believe me; but of course nobody cares about the average Joe. I don’t know if anyone’s ever been hit on the tracks down there, or would be if they didn’t honk as much. I guess my sleep is the price that has to be paid for the safety of the insane. What bothers me most of all is that this is often the voice of the China-trade, although the Amtrak Cascades and Sounders make their share of noise too, I know. (I don’t like the China-trade on account of its interference with human rights and all. I certainly don’t want to lose sleep over the fact that crates and crates of cheap slave-made shit are passing in the night.)

But most of the ones I’m talking about are passing freight trains in the night, at wee hours. The same ones I’m sure pubgoers at Motor and people coming home from work in West Seattle have to wait for often. Trains are quite loud from below, but you haven’t heard them ‘til you’ve heard them from above. There are probably set whistle placards in the rails that indicate when the horn must be blown, but this doesn’t stop the overzealous inverted snob blue collar from honking as much as they wish. And I think sometimes they do. I say we need a new system. Like common sense in regard to crossing railroad tracks. There was talk of a satellite system a while back that would let the engineer know what’s coming up a mile ahead, but I guess they never phased that in. A pity—it’d save us all some noise. But I guess the lesson to be learned is: Don’t live on the West side of Beacon Hill! And, whoever planned this rail corridor, without sound-insulating walls and overpasses until downtown really kind of sucks. Thanks for thinking of the little guy, as always!

-Really Sleepless in Seattle

Photo by Todd Sackmann from The Stranger's flickr pool.

FOUND: One large bejeweled cross-on-a-stick*, lying in or near the street at 39th and Stone Way at 10 p.m. last night. Sadly, it does not appear to be solid gold. If you or someone you know is waking with a massive hangover and slowly becoming horrified as you realize your large bejeweled cross-on-a-stick is missing, please leave your story in comments and email your contact info to Almighty Slog. God says He's willing to forgive you.

* The finder suggested it might be called a crosier, but the dictionary suggests that term is reserved for large sticks-with-crooks-on-the-end, bejeweled or un-.

Last Friday, April 10th, I celebrated a birthday on the balcony of the Elite. Later, upon perusing my loot from that boozy evening, I was horrified to discovery a bag containing the presents belonging to another individual, named "Josh," who as fate would have it was celebrated his birthday on that very balcony, on that very same evening. Inquiry to the Elite staff only yielded the information that yes, he had asked about his wayward loot, but sadly did not leave any contact information.

Here is where the trail grows cold. Perhaps a slogger out there knows this Josh? From the contents, I can tell he's a drinker, dog owner, and possibly into pictures of women's buttholes. I'd hate to think that someone would survive the trials and tribulations of this past year and come out the other side with no shwag to show for it. If someone can describe the bag or its contents, I'll happily return it.

Josh, are you out there?

And re: the Elite, Stranger reader-reviewer dc.al.coda declares:

In a city with no "can't-miss" bars, this is arguably the best gay bar of the moment in Seattle. In their old location (N end of Broadway), they appeared to cater to 50something alcoholics and the parolees who love them. In their new location (Olive & Summit, near the also newly-relocated and also mixed and also fun Bus Stop), the trainwrecks are vastly outnumbered by cute, happy, 20- to 40-somethings, male and female, gay and hipster and gayhipster (gaypster?).

The last time I was at the Elite, it was full of hale, handsome soccer players who'd just come from a game in which one team played topless, the other bottomless(-ish). Everyone was having a great time.

UPDATE! Josh has been found!

ZOMG, that's my bday booty that I've been sadly missing. And to clarify, I don't like women's buttholes.

And now man and birthday bag will be reunited. Slog is, truly, a beautiful thing.

A Message from the Hideout

On Tuesday our ice machine stopped working. One day everything is fine, the next it is broken. Just like that. It was only four years old and had worked like a dream- not a hitch. Every time we lifted the flap it was to the brim with sparkling clear ice- hundreds of pounds- it was like opening a treasure chest. If you ever felt down, you could just lift up the lid and smile at all the dazzle, the technology, the purity of it all. Have you seen 400 pounds of ice cubes, all at once?

So Tuesday it all came to an end. The fan stopped spinning. Drips of cold water leaked from the throat of this marvel. We gathered around, pointed flashlights, plugged and unplugged, unscrewed panels and poked around. When things are working great you just don't ask question, it's only when they break do you try and understand them.

And then Justin noticed the intake screen on the back, noticed the thick fur of dust and bellybutton lint and eyelashes that stuck to the screen like a sweater. We had killed it. All it ever asked was for someone to clean the screen and let it breath. We killed it out of our own neglect.

There is a price to pay for killing. And when you kill a machine the price is clearly written on a handwritten invoice with parts that you've never heard of and labor rates that rival a doctor. It was a bitter pill.

We encourage you to look at the things that are working so perfectly around you and pay closer attention. Get your oil changed. Fix that funky extension cord, take a minute and inspect. There are batteries to replace, filters to change, chimneys to sweep- letters to write- there is nothing worse than realizing that something died because of simple neglect. We are just lucky that it was an ice machine.

You may join the email list here if you like. Reader-reviews of the Hideout are here.

They entered with crowns and sashes and were met with cheese, pasta and sauces, as 51 gorgeous contestants of the 2009 Miss USA Pageant made a special appearance at the Buca di Beppo Italian eatery on East Flamingo Rd. Saturday evening....

Full release (ha!) and bonus beauty-queen photos after the jump.

Photo: Tom Donoghue / Buca di Beppo

Tom is having odd cravings for butterscotch pudding, how concerned should I be?

i would not be concerned at all. someone prob. mentioned butterscotch pudding, which then SOUNDS AWESOME.

BUTTERSCOTCH PUDDING. I think this recipe sounds delicious. The writing around it is a little weird at first, but then: "If you don't like pudding skin, why are you eating pudding in the first place?"

Also: Over the weekend I went to Smokin' Pete's for the first time ever and was impressed with both the meat and the sauce. Brisket too fatty, but very good ribs and pulled pork. There's even a vinegar-based Carolina bbq sauce that is my favorite sort of sauce, and is very hard to find up here. I put some on the brisket and was teleported to Franklin VA and the barbecue we sold as a fundraiser for the swim team. In other words: YUM. But WEIRD.

now i want bbq AND butterscotch pudding.

Smokin' Pete's photo by zeebleoop from The Stranger's flickr pool. Exchange between Jill and me.

I was in Buenos Aires last year and am dying for the taste of their delicious empanadas. Could you kindly steer me towards the best in Capitol Hill and also the best in all of Seattle? It would be so much appreciated.
Matt

Well, Matt, over here Megan Seling states that she much enjoys the taste of the empanadas ("crispy, fat... $3.99 apiece") at Puerto Rican restaurant La Isla in Ballard. The empanadas of Mexican restaurant Agua Verde in the U District have been much admired (as, long ago but in fine style, here). Delicious empanadas have been obtained at the screaming-deal-of-a-happy-hour at downtown's posh Mediterranean restaurant Brasa (as described by me: "One pork empanada ($4.50) seems paltry... but the meat is so tender-honeyed good, the pastry so light and lightly fire-blistered, it's worth it"). The Salvadorean Bakery in White Center also has, if recollection serves, excellent empanadas. Spanish restaurant Bilbao in the U District has a different kind of empanada every day and is very much worth a try. Harvest Vine in the Madison Valley is beloved by many and sometimes has empanadas.

Thus is my local empanada intelligence exhausted—and, notably, with no empanada on Capitol Hill at all. Surely there is one?

So he said that his bowling was like the Special Olympics, that is, he scored poorly. Is it not the nature of the Special Olympics that scores are not as high as in, say, the regular Olympics? I generally get—and agree with—these kinds of P.C. things, but this eludes me. I just don't see what's wrong with it.

Is the response a knee-jerk reaction? (Can one use the phrase "knee-jerk reaction" without offending those with jerky knees?)

Dear Stranger,

I read the wonderful article by Brendan Kiley, waving a fond farewell to the great Circus Contraption. All of us at The Moisture Festival feel the same sadness when we think of Seattle with out that troupe. There was one reference in the article that I feel compelled to correct. “Seattle vaudeville group called the Royal Famille du Caniveaux, which now runs Seattle's Moisture Festival..."

While there are several members of Du Caniveaux who are proud to contribute to the workings of the festival—Cathy Sutherland, Randy Minkler, John Olufs, Rhonda Sable, Hacki and Moeppi Ginda—they would never take credit for running the festival.

The credit for that monumental task should go to the real organizers: Tim Furst, Maque DaVis, Sandy Palmer, Katherine Bragdon, Megan Riggs, Rhonda Sable.

We will all deeply miss the inspiration that Circus Contraption never failed to deliver.

Ron W. Bailey - Du Caniveaux
Organizer - Moisture Festival

I'm really sick of Erica Barnett, Josh Feit and the whole pack of pro-density, eco-nazis at The Stranger. You all came here from somewhere else, and you all want this place to be some kind of "green" version of New York. Despite all your years of howling and hand-wringing, despite all your pro-transit rants and your bike lane bullshit, it's NOT!

If you like big, overcrowded, noisy, expensive East Coast cities so much, why don't you go fucking live there!! Stop trying to jam that shit down our throats!

Fuck the whole bunch of you.

Jef Jaisun
Green before you were born, beyatches!

In other news: I miss Josh Feit.

I just wanted to say thank you for alerting me to the Quad Rugby tournament this past weekend! I made it to the 2 final games yesterday and it was AWESOME!! I had not yet gotten around to watching the documentary but had seen the previews so had some idea of what to expect, what I was not expecting was how very thrilling it was! I just wish more people had taken your advice. So again, from someone who generally has no interest in sports, THANK YOU!!

More Seattle Slam schedule info HERE.

All photos by Jackie Canchola, more after the jump.

That is what real revolutions are like. The old stuff gets broken faster than the new stuff is put in its place. The importance of any given experiment isn’t apparent at the moment it appears; big changes stall, small changes spread. Even the revolutionaries can’t predict what will happen. Agreements on all sides that core institutions must be protected are rendered meaningless by the very people doing the agreeing. (Luther and the Church both insisted, for years, that whatever else happened, no one was talking about a schism.) Ancient social bargains, once disrupted, can neither be mended nor quickly replaced, since any such bargain takes decades to solidify.

And so it is today. When someone demands to know how we are going to replace newspapers, they are really demanding to be told that we are not living through a revolution. They are demanding to be told that old systems won’t break before new systems are in place. They are demanding to be told that ancient social bargains aren’t in peril, that core institutions will be spared, that new methods of spreading information will improve previous practice rather than upending it. They are demanding to be lied to.

There are fewer and fewer people who can convincingly tell such a lie.

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]]> City and Mailbag Mon, 16 Mar 2009 14:16:56 -0700 The Stranger

A chimp in a Swedish jail zoo has been throwing rocks at people. ON PURPOSE. (Is that really, actually surprising?)

Zoo Chimp Plots Stone Throwing Attacks
New study found his cleverly orchestrated attacks were premeditated

Anger-chimp was stockpiling rocks to throw across a moat at zoo visitors; he would break off and store piece of concrete to hurl as well. "The discovery...provides evidence that chimpanzees can plan for a future, rather than a current, mental state." The researchers also concluded that the chimp's behavior "appears to somewhat mirror primate dominance displays in the wild." Perhaps it also somewhat indicates that living on Chimpanzee Island is infuriating?

Thank you, Slog tipper Reggie. Photo by celerrimus from flickr. UPDATE! There's the photo.

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]]> Science and Mailbag Mon, 09 Mar 2009 13:34:54 -0700 The Stranger We're still getting email from John McCain—not often, maybe once every few weeks—but that only makes it worse when you see the salutation:

My Friend,

While campaigning for change, Barack Obama said, "We need earmark reform, and when I'm President, I will go line by line to make sure that we are not spending money unwisely." But now the President is about to sign a huge 2,697 page spending bill with over 9,000 unnecessary and wasteful earmarks. That's not the "change" we are looking for. [BLAH BLAH BLAH ETC. ETC.]

The words "My Friend" recall John McCain's voice so clearly, they still make me feel a little sick. John McCain, I am not your friend. Furthermore, I want the phrase "my friend" back. And The Stranger is not going to send you money for your reelection campaign. I'm going to take us off your mailing list (if Dan Savage will let me).

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]]> Housekeeping and Mailbag Fri, 06 Mar 2009 09:22:58 -0800 The Stranger

The press release of the day, from PETA, involves Chase Bank switching from glue traps to an unspecified method of dispensing with mice:

WAMU'S RESCUER ALSO SAVES ANIMALS BY BANNING GLUE TRAPS IN RESPONSE TO PETA'S APPEAL
JP Morgan Addresses Consumer Concerns About Suffering of Trapped Rodents and Birds

Seattle, Wash. — In a move that will spare countless mice and other small animals painful, lingering deaths, Seattle-based Washington Mutual, which was recently acquired by banking giant JP Morgan Chase, has announced that it will stop using cruel glue traps as part of a recently announced plan to stop the use of the traps at all Chase Bank locations. Glue traps are pieces of cardboard or plastic coated with an adhesive that's designed to ensnare any small animal who wanders across the surface.

After customers complained about the use of glue traps in a Chicago-area Washington Mutual bank, PETA contacted JP Morgan Chase. Company Vice President Ann Stankiewicz responded, saying that the company "will no longer use glue traps in our facilities for mice control."

The remainder of the press release is after the break, should you care to learn more about glue traps. Hint: possible chewing off of own legs.

Legs aside, PETA's headline is specious: Is the bank really going to "save" the mice now? Or will it use some other method of "mice control," like a spring trap that'll snap their little spines instead? Would a less painful, less lingering death for the mice make PETA happy, or does PETA envision a world where mice can live inside financial institutions at will as tiny fur freeloaders?

And since when are banks infested with mice? Seattle's bank branches don't seem to be littered with glue traps. Is this a Chicago thing?

PETA's "rescue" comparison vis-a-vis WAMU is also specious: WAMU pretty much chewed off its own leg, then was subsumed. Can it not be left to rest in peace?

Photo by evil robot 6 from The Stranger's flickr pool.

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]]> Mailbag Tue, 03 Mar 2009 13:11:50 -0800 The Stranger

Ben at Bark Bus writes, "can i be a friend or enemy of the slog?" Bark Bus appears to be a deluxe dog-walking service in which your dog is taken on hikes. The website has photos of dogs running all crazed through fields and woods and so forth, and also the photo shown here of a German shepherd reading a book entitled German Shepherd. Pricing for your dog in nature without you having to be there: "One day on the bark bus is $42 USD for full-day outings. Half-days (Tues and Thurs) are $25 USD."

No consensus has been reached around the office about Bark Bus and its relationship to Slog. (An obvious pro: photo of German shepherd reading book about German shepherds. A possible con: Perhaps people with more money than sense should be paying to, say, have underprivileged children taken on a bus to run free in nature instead of dogs?)

So! Let us LET SLOG DECIDE*!

Bark Bus should be:

*As always, Dan Savage retains veto power. Unfair? I KNOW!!!

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]]> Housekeeping and Mailbag Wed, 25 Feb 2009 16:01:56 -0800 The Stranger

A reader calls out the people of Wallingford:

It seems that with money, education, children, and having grown up the people of Wallingford have come to the conclusion that tipping is not something they want to do. Those that serve beer, coffee, and food and clean up after the consumption of said items are not deemed tip-worthy. Funny, I spent 3 years on the Hill as a barista, and had homeless tip, people looking like crackheads, people wanted by the law, students, alcoholics, hipsters, socially inept, hell, a mix of oddballs and the educated from all walks of life. But then moving to Wallingford, the cheap students, cheap families, cheap people, and no crackhead tranny hookers—damn how I miss them—but alas it is all in the upbringing, how your lame-ass parents raised you to be selfish. People chat, talk, serve, and go above and beyond and you use them with no thanks. You ask for the service but are not willing to pay. No wonder the economy is in the shitter.

Please, people of Wallingford, students, tip those that serve you. If you wanted to dine out and had 24 bucks and you know that the meal is 24 bucks, don't go out. If you have 4 bucks and want to drink, you get a 3 dollar beer and leave the buck for the friendly bartender. If you want a mocha nonfat, triple, or a tea for here leaving a mess behind, please leave some change. If you are unable to part with change for bartenders and baristas, or at least a 15% tip to servers at dinner, stay home, clean your own dishes, make your own food and talk to yourself.

"Bill Gates in Wallingford" by El Gregein from The Stranger's flickr pool.

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]]> Mailbag Tue, 17 Feb 2009 15:26:12 -0800 The Stranger

Yes: Bacon is SO OVER. (It's so over that even the new bacon—pork belly—is over. Brussels sprouts are the NEW new bacon, esp. the ones at Cantinetta [with duck confit] and Smith [with bacon!].)

But: from today's email: "Slog tip about bacon #3,143" from Jon e. Rock: "Ground bacon burger...Woah."

And: Slog tip about bacon #3,144 from e.l.: "bacon alarm clock: may have already seen this but... yesssssssssss"

UPDATE: Also today in bacon, apparently "Mike Nelson (of Mystery Science Theater 3000 fame) has vowed to only eat bacon for the month of February."

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]]> Chow and Mailbag Wed, 04 Feb 2009 14:46:23 -0800 The Stranger