
related to: ORIGINAL LINK
>Date: Tue, 5 May 2009 16:58:09 -0700
>From: "________" <____________@gmail.com>
>Subject: Back to Pork's Dirty Secret: The nation's top hog producer is also one of America's worst polluters
>To: memo@sdsu.edu, garellano@ocweekly.com
>
> Professor Nericcio and Gustavo,
> I'm listening to you via the internet stream off of KPCC. The
> Smithfield Foods industrial pork production lines are also in the
> United States. Hope the FCC doesn't catch up with you about the four letters
> words from todays show. best,
> A listener
> Attached is an article from Rolling Stone on Smithfield's hog
> productions in the US.

Holy Cinco de Mayo!!! Tune in at 4pm for the whole Arellano-enchilada; I will be on at 4:20pm speaking on the rabid anti-Mexican racism roiling the U.S. right now owing to the flu-fear pandemic! Hit the link below to listen live; or, return later Tuesday and show will be archived as a podcast.

Guillén: Our of sheer curiosity then, let’s say that—out of the many performances where white actors play Latino characters—is there one you feel to be most accomplished?
Noriega: That’s an interesting question. Lou Diamond Phillips is often incorporated into the Latino character category and he’s a multi-ethnic multi-racial actor. He’s had several roles where he’s played a Latino character. There are some performances that are notable precisely for not being that believable. It’s interesting when you see the mainstream press say, “Well, this is not believable. We love the actor but no way is it convincing.” Historically, the performance I find most fascinating—not necessarily believable per se, but believable in the context of Lon Chaney—is Paul Muni in Bordertown. And also in Juarez, where he plays the Mexican president Benito Juarez. It’s a great performance though I don’t know how authentic it is in essence. But that’s not the question. It’s a fascinating example of somebody who—like Lon Chaney—made a career out of playing and trying effectively to play just about every type he could. {source}



May 3, 2009And this, just in from Boston:
OP-CHART
American Epidemics, a Brief History
By HOWARD MARKEL and SAM POTTS
permalink to original source
ALL epidemics are different in their own way, and the current swine flu outbreak — which by Friday had sickened 141 people in 19 states, and caused deaths and illness in Mexico and 13 other countries — is no exception. Yet, as you can see from the chart below, which provides details on a selected handful of epidemics in American history, all outbreaks share certain themes. While some of these events killed many thousands and others affected only a few, in each case public health officials felt a grave threat was imminent and did what they could using the science of the day.History also shows us, unfortunately, that epidemics lead to reflexive scapegoating of those thought to have caused the problem. Just as European immigrants were blamed for importing cholera in the late 19th century, we are now seeing reports of American politicians saying that Mexican migrant workers should be turned away from hospitals and a rash of scurrilous posts on the Internet attributing the outbreak to their “dirty” ways of life. Another common feature is misinformation. There are now boycotts around the world of Mexican pork, despite well-established science that humans do not contract swine flu from eating pork. And then there was Vice President Joe Biden’s premature suggestion that we all avoid airplanes and the subway.
Confusion and blame games aside, we can take heart that our public health professionals are working around the clock to prevent this crisis from getting out of control. One thing the history of epidemics teaches us is that given our remarkable arsenal of treatments, public health measures and rapid surveillance and communications ability, there’s never been a better time to have a pandemic than today — except, that is, tomorrow.
Howard Markel, a doctor and professor of medical history at the University of Michigan, is the author of “Quarantine” and “When Germs Travel.” Sam Potts is a graphic designer.



In one of his broadcasts this week, Severin said: "So now, in addition to venereal disease and the other leading exports of Mexico - women with mustaches and VD - now we have swine flu."
Later, he described Mexicans as "the world's lowest of primitives."
"When we are the magnet for primitives around the world - and it's not the primitives' fault by the way, I'm not blaming them for being primitives - I'm merely observing they're primitive," he said.
He added that Mexicans are destroying schools and hospitals in the United States. He also criticized their hygiene.
"It's millions of leeches from a primitive country come here to leech off you and, with it, they are ruining the schools, the hospitals, and a lot of life in America," he said.
He added: "We should be, if anything, surprised that Mexico has not visited upon us poxes of more various and serious types already, considering the number of criminaliens already here."
Severin's worldview, a pastiche of lurid ignorance born from a lifelong study (apparently) of The Secret History of Mankind, is the most dangerous of many voices polluting the airways and view screens of our early American 21st-Century. If you are in Boston and in the media, bring me out there to do a reading and fight back against these dangerous, moronic Mexican-haters.
The irony of all this (especially in light of Severin's hate-laced diatribes) is that the nation at the root of this proto-pandemic is the good old U.S. of A.: Smithfield Foods, makers of Butterball, Farmland, and Armour products, among others, is responsible for bringing together people and pigs in such a way that viral crossbreeding was a matter of time, not doubt. This is not to take the blame off of any individual Mexicans or, Mexican corporations, Granjas Carroll, logolink opposite, a subsidiary of Smithfield, is also
responsible for the fetid stew of shit, entrails, and bones (a Danteesque miasma if there ever was one) that allegedly gave birth to this scary influenza. If anything, Severin's "criminaliens" (nice neologism, creep!) are holed up in Smithfield, Virginia--and they aren't Mexican.