Tag Archives: World news

Offended by Koreans feeing bird-dog? I trust you’ve never had a bacon butty | Chas Newkey-Burden

Frightened animals being caged, killed and turned into food wed never dream of such villainies in the western world, writes writer and columnist Chas Newkey-Burden

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They owned an island , now they are urban poor: the tragedy of Altamira

Construction of the Belo Monte dam has shed humanities , women and children who lived rich lives along the Xingu River to the outskirts of Altamira, Brazils most violent city. Here, to the sound of gunfire, it was necessary to live behind barred windows, and buy food with money theyve never had or needed before

They owned an island , now they are urban poor: the tragedy of Altamira

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Barbra Streisand exposes she cloned her puppy twice

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Singer and actor tells Variety she made clones of 14-year-old Samantha before it died last year

Barbra Streisand has revealed she successfully built two clones of her baby pup after it died last year.

The singer and performer told the Hollywood trade publication Variety that cells were taken from the mouth and stomach of her 14 -year-old Coton de Tulear dog, Samantha.

” They have differing identities ,” Streisand said of the puppies, announced Miss Scarlett and Miss Violet.” I’m waiting for them to get older so I can see if they have her brown gazes and her seriousness .”

In the interrogation, Streisand said when the cloned hounds arrived, she garmented them in red and lavender to tell them apart, which is how they got their names.

While waiting for their arrival, Streisand said she became smitten with another puppy, which was a distant relation of Samantha.

The Coton de Tulear dog was called Funny Girl, but Streisand adopted her and established her the name Miss Fanny, which is how Fanny Brice’s dresser refers to Streisand’s character in the 1968 musical that launched her performing career.

Streisand followed Funny Girl, for which she prevailed an Oscar, with Hello Dolly !, but told me that she never liked the film.

” I recalled I was totally miscast. I tried to get out of it ,” she told Variety.” I think it’s so silly. It’s so old-time musical .”

Read more: www.theguardian.com

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Here’s the main issue behind the Jamie Oliver jerk rice row- and it’s not culture appropriation

/ by / Tags: , , , ,

People object to a minted soul making money from an inauthentic dish, while those who eat the real thing get diddly-squat

You can discover, even from a great distance, that some arguings have a hot, insoluble core that won’t be easily cooled, in the same way that you can tell by watching a pub oppose whether it is about a fraternal sellout or somebody spilling something. The fracas over the celebrity cook Jamie Oliver’s punchy jerk rice- which led the Labour MP Dawn Butler to tweet:” Your jerking rice is not OK. This appropriation from Jamaica needs to stop”- is just such a row.

Oliver love obliged themselves awake. Which bit of his rice is wrong, again? That he would use seasoning that originated in another culture; that he would get the seasoning incorrect; or that he would misapply it to the wrong ingredient, “jerk” being intended for meat , not rice? What do the liberals require? Where was Butler when he started utilizing mostarda di frutta on pasta? Won’t someone be taken into consideration the Italians?” And what about tea ?”, lent the contrarians.” Is that culture appropriation? Now we’ve appropriated it, is anyone else drinking it suitable it back up us ?” The untrained commentator, arriving from space, would assume we were a nation that strenuously and irrationally adoration, or disliked, Oliver, whereupon discussing him at all itself becomes an act of cultural appropriation. But that’s not really what’s going on.

If you never borrow anything, that is a creed of insularity and parochialism. Because this is an easy point to score, a lot of people are coming in to bat for Oliver who wouldn’t croak near his schmuck rice with a 10 -ft spoon, and never savor his jollof rice either, with which he doubly reviled an whole continent in 2014, drawing it nothing like it was supposed to taste, and clumsily attributing it to Ghana when its sources are raced. It was like going in to a Greek restaurant and ordering a Turkish coffee, except multiplied by 17 and offering to make it yourself, with cloves.

But what people are angry about isn’t the homely cross-pollination of one yummy thing with another, but that a person who is already minted is making a load of coin out of a bastardised form of something, while the people who eat the genuine food reach diddly-squat from it. It is just another difference narrative, erupting through the social surface like a zit. We’ll crush it for a bit, it will hurt, some gunk will come out. The underlying surroundings will remain unchanged, until a fresh simmer starts, maybe when Jeremy Paxman launches his own street-style label.

What is illuminating is that all this illustrates the item made a decade ago in the book The Spirit Level: Why More Equal Societies Nearly Ever Do Better that difference is bad for everyone; it induces everyone angrier, rich and poverty-stricken; everyone’s mental health worsens, whatever their class. Richard Wilkinson and Kate Pickett, the book’s authors, were never enormous adventurers on why this should be, wishing not to blur their clear epidemiological ground with supposition. But you can understand on a intestine grade why it might adversely affect all of us. Oliver probably does not wake up thinking of himself as emblematic of a rigged structure. If all debate about equality is refracted through individuals, then nobody is culpable enough to stand for the unfairnes of privilege, and if you want to represent the underdog, you have to be so subjugated yourself that you are almost dead. Personal credentials become the beginning and end of a battle that cannot be acquired on that territory. A tranche of belief will conclude that the debate is too tedious to bother with, or, as Peter York formerly archly said:” I’m just waiting for Gardeners’ Question Time to start talking about the inequality between my wisteria and my hydrangeas .”

I don’t have the answer, by the way: but I know it won’t be resolved by rice, and it would help if the super-rich tried superhumanly hard not to be jerks.

Is Michael Gove barking up the right tree?

Michael Gove is not the go-to politician if your main issue is puppies- shortly thereafter his stand against hound” punishment collars”( remote-controlled collars that allow you to blast your hound with an electric shock or, more commonly, cold breath where reference is misbehaves ), he went back on the relevant recommendations of a proscribe. Now, though, he has come out against puppy farms. He will find few people who won’t support him in this: however much you distrust him and anguish of his Singapore-in-the-channel vision for Britain, you must despise more anyone who would malnourish a puppy for currency. If there is one thing besides Bake Off we could all sign up to, surely this “wouldve been” it?

Gove, like Boris Johnson, has apparently turned to Facebook for intel on how to reach himself seem leaderly, except his puppy whistle is not Islamophobia but real bird-dogs. There is a peculiar quality to the animal-rights activism on Facebook. You would think it would be fluffy because animals are, but it often aims up in a singular place, calling for the death penalty for unscrupulous puppy-farm proprietors or old-fashioned evidence revitalization justice, where people who leave pups in red-hot cars are, themselves, locked down hot cars.

The enormous boon of pup-rights is that they can’t easily be aligned politically, so people who wouldn’t be happy with far-right overtones, or those of the left, can end snugly into some righteous rage that doesn’t involve dash their neighbours’ spaces. This is the happy place of the modern Tory moderate: all the power and zeal of communal rampage, but none of the unfortunate and ugly ethno-nationalism.

The only problem is that anger is not politically constructive: some spleen is inevitable, but only as a side-dish. For generative social eyesight, you may have to look somewhere other than social media.

No deal: how the euro has become the talk of British holidaymakers

” Imagine how inexpensive that would have been, before June 2016 …” This is the staple holiday conversation, replicated by every Brit in the eurozone, every seven minutes, sometimes amended by the strange:” Well, that would still have been expensive, even when you got EUR1. 39 to the PS1″, and culminating in the regular explosion:” One to bloody one! We might as well have gone to Sweden and consume five quid on an apple .” Many things could change the weather, when autumn comes: the publication of the no-deal Armageddon scenarios may bring MPs to their gumptions. But these adventures in Carrefour, get pointlessly mugged to no one’s benefit, will supply an interesting background dirge.

Read more: www.theguardian.com

READ MORE

They owned an island , now they are urban poor: the tragedy of Altamira

Construction of the Belo Monte dam has cast beings, women and children who lived rich lives along the Xingu River to the outskirts of Altamira, Brazils most violent city. Here, to the sound of gunfire, the work requires live behind forbidden spaces, and buy food with fund theyve never had or needed before

They owned an island , now they are urban poor: the tragedy of Altamira

READ MORE

Here’s the main issue behind the Jamie Oliver jerk rice row- and it’s not cultural appropriation

/ by / Tags: , , , ,

People object to a minted being making money from an inauthentic recipe, while those who eat the real thing get diddly-squat

You can sounds, even from a great distance, that some contentions have a hot, incurable core that won’t be easily cooled, in the same way that you can tell by watching a inn campaign whether it is about a fraternal betrayal or somebody spilling something. The fracas over the fame chef Jamie Oliver’s punchy jerk rice- which led to the loss the Labour MP Dawn Butler to tweet:” Your moron rice is not OK. This appropriation from Jamaica needs to stop”- is just such a row.

Oliver devotees obliged themselves awake. Which bit of his rice is wrong, again? That he would use spice that originated in another culture; that he would get the seasoning wrong; or that he would misapply it to the wrong part, “jerk” being intended for meat , not rice? What do the liberals crave? Where was Butler when he started utilizing mostarda di frutta on pasta? Won’t someone think of the Italians?” And what about tea ?”, added the contrarians.” Is that cultural appropriation? Now we’ve appropriated it, is anyone else drinking it proper it back up us ?” The untrained observer, arriving from space, would assume we were a nation that furiously and irrationally adored, or disliked, Oliver, whereupon discussing him at all itself becomes an act of culture appropriation. But that’s not really what’s going on.

If you never borrow anything, that is a creed of insularity and parochialism. Because this is an easy point to score, a lot of people are coming in to bat for Oliver who wouldn’t proceed near his schmuck rice with a 10 -ft spoon, and never savor his jollof rice either, with which he doubly insulted an whole continent in 2014, seeing it nothing like it was supposed to taste, and clumsily attributing it to Ghana when its sources are rivalry. It was like going in to a Greek restaurant and telling a Turkish coffee, except multiplied by 17 and offering to make it yourself, with cloves.

But what people are angry about isn’t the homely cross-pollination of one tasty thing with another, but that a person who is already minted is making a load of money out of a bastardised version of something, while the people who eat the genuine bowl prepare diddly-squat from it. It is just another inequality story, bursting through the social surface like a pimple. We’ll mash it for a bit, it will hurt, some gunk will come out. The underlying states will remain unchanged, until a fresh boil begins, perhaps when Jeremy Paxman launches his own street-style label.

What is illuminating is that all this illustrates the stage made a decade ago in the book The Spirit Level: Why More Equal Civilizations Nearly Always Do Better that difference is bad for everyone; it stimulates everyone angrier, rich and poor; everyone’s mental health falls, whatever their class. Richard Wilkinson and Kate Pickett, the book’s generators, “ve never been” enormous speculators on why this should be, wishing not to muddy their clear epidemiological exhibit with supposition. But you can understand on a intestine rank why it might adversely affect all of us. Oliver probably does not wake up thinking of himself as emblematic of a rigged system. If all debate about equality is refracted through individuals, then nobody is reprehensible enough to stand for the sin of privilege, and if you want to represent the underdog, you have to be so subdued yourself that you are almost dead. Personal credentials become the beginning and end of a battle that cannot be acquired on that territory. A tranche of ruling will conclude that the debate is too tedious to bother with, or, as Peter York once archly said:” I’m just waiting for Gardeners’ Question Time to start talking about the inequality between my wisteria and my hydrangeas .”

I don’t have the answer, by the way: but I know it won’t be resolved by rice, and it would help if the super-rich tried superhumanly hard not to be jerks.

Is Michael Gove barking up the privilege tree?

Michael Gove is not the go-to politician if your main issue is puppies- soon after his stand against pup” beating collars”( remote-controlled collars that allow you to blast your puppy with an electric shock or, more commonly, cold breath where reference is misbehaves ), he went back on the minds of a proscribe. Now, though, he has come out against puppy farms. He will find few people who won’t support him in this: however much you distrust him and anguish of his Singapore-in-the-channel vision for Britain, you must despise more anyone who would malnourish a puppy for currency. If there is one thing besides Bake Off we could all sign up to, surely this would be it?

Gove, like Boris Johnson, has apparently turned to Facebook for intel on how to reach himself seem leaderly, except his bird-dog whistling is not Islamophobia but real bird-dogs. There is a peculiar quality to the animal-rights activism on Facebook. You would think it would be fluffy because swine are, but it often culminates up in a strange lieu, calling for the death penalty for unscrupulous puppy-farm owners or old evidence improvement right, where people who leave hounds in red-hot vehicles are, themselves, locked in hot cars.

The great boon of pup-rights is that they can’t readily be aligned politically, so people who wouldn’t be happy with far-right connotations, or those of the left, can end snugly into some righteous fury that doesn’t involve destruction their neighbours’ spaces. This is the happy place of the modern Tory moderate: all the vitality and zeal of communal feeling, but none of the unfortunate and ugly ethno-nationalism.

The only problem is that anger is not politically constructive: some spleen is inevitable, but only as a side-dish. For generative social perception, you may have to look somewhere other than social media.

No deal: how the euro has become the talk of British holidaymakers

” Imagine how cheap who had allegedly been, before June 2016 …” This is the staple holiday conversation, replicated by every Brit in the eurozone, every seven times, sometimes amended by the odd:” Well, that would still have been expensive, even when you got EUR1. 39 to the PS1″, and culminating in the regular explosion:” One to bloody-minded one! We might as well have gone to Sweden and spent five quid on an apple .” Many things could change the condition, when autumn comes: the publication of the no-deal Armageddon scenarios may deliver MPs to their gumptions. But these escapades in Carrefour, going pointlessly mugged to no one’s benefit, will supply an interesting background dirge.

Read more: www.theguardian.com

READ MORE

Here’s the main issue behind the Jamie Oliver jerk rice row- and it’s not cultural appropriation

/ by / Tags: , , , ,

People object to a minted person making money from an inauthentic bowl, while those who eat the real thing get diddly-squat

You can sounds, even from a great distance, that some arguings have a hot, incurable core that won’t be easily cooled, in the same way that you can tell by watching a pub oppose whether it is about a fraternal sellout or somebody spilling something. The fracas over the celebrity chef Jamie Oliver’s punchy jerk rice- which led the Labour MP Dawn Butler to tweet:” Your jerking rice is not OK. This appropriation from Jamaica needs to stop”- is just such a row.

Oliver fans thrust themselves awake. Which bit of his rice is wrong, again? That he would use flavouring that originated in another culture; that he would get the seasoning wrong; or that he would misapply it to the wrong ingredient, “jerk” being intended for meat , not rice? What do the liberals want? Where was Butler when he started using mostarda di frutta on pasta? Won’t someone should be considered the Italians?” And what about tea ?”, added the contrarians.” Is that culture appropriation? Now we’ve appropriated it, is anyone else drinking it suitable it back off us ?” The untrained commentator, arriving from space, would assume we were a nation that strenuously and irrationally desired, or detested, Oliver, whereupon discussing him at all itself becomes an act of culture appropriation. But that’s not really what’s going on.

If you never borrow anything, that is a creed of insularity and parochialism. Because this is an easy point to score, a lot of beings are coming in to bat for Oliver who wouldn’t start near his moron rice with a 10 -ft spoon, and never tasted his jollof rice either, with which he doubly insulted an entire continent in 2014, realise it nothing like it was supposed to taste, and clumsily attributing it to Ghana when its parentages are contested. It was like going in to a Greek restaurant and prescribing a Turkish coffee, except multiplied by 17 and offering to make it yourself, with cloves.

But what beings are angry about isn’t the homely cross-pollination of one delectable thought with another, but that a person who is already minted is making a load of coin out of a bastardised form of something, while the people who eat the authentic recipe do diddly-squat from it. It is just another inequality story, exploding through the social scalp like a zit. We’ll pinch it for a little, it will hurt, some gunk will come out. The underlying problems will remain unchanged, until a fresh steam begins, perhaps when Jeremy Paxman propels his own street-style label.

What is illuminating is that all this illustrates the point made a decade ago in the book The Spirit Level: Why More Equal Civilizations Almost Ever Do Better that inequality is bad for everyone; it attains everyone angrier, rich and poverty-stricken; everyone’s mental health rejects, whatever their class. Richard Wilkinson and Kate Pickett, the book’s authors, were never enormous adventurers on why this should be, wishing not to obscure their clear epidemiological prove with speculation. But you can understand on a gut tier why it might adversely affect all of us. Oliver probably does not wake up thinking of himself as emblematic of a rigged system. If all debate about equality is refracted through individuals, then nobody is culpable enough to stand for the sin of privilege, and if you want to represent the underdog, you have to be so oppressed yourself that you are almost dead. Personal credentials become the beginning and end of a battle that cannot be triumphed on that territory. A tranche of sentiment will conclude that the debate is too laborious to bother with, or, as Peter York formerly archly said:” I’m just waiting for Gardeners’ Question Time to start talking about the inequality between my wisteria and my hydrangeas .”

I don’t have the answer, by the way: but I know it won’t be resolved by rice, and it would assist if the super-rich tried superhumanly hard not to be jerks.

Is Michael Gove barking up the right tree?

Michael Gove is not the go-to politician if your main issue is puppies- soon after his stand against bird-dog” sanction collars”( remote-controlled collars that allow you to blast your hound with an electric shock or, more commonly, cold breath where reference is misbehaves ), he went back on the notion of a disallow. Now, though, he has come out against puppy farms. He will find few people who won’t support him in this: however much you distrust him and hopelessnes of his Singapore-in-the-channel vision for Britain, you must despise more anyone who would malnourish a puppy for money. If there is one thing besides Bake Off we could all sign up to, surely this would be it?

Gove, like Boris Johnson, has apparently turned to Facebook for intel on how to induce himself seem leaderly, except his hound whistling is not Islamophobia but real pups. There is a peculiar quality to the animal-rights activism on Facebook. You would think it would be fluffy because swine are, but it often dissolves up in a strange region, announcing for the death penalty for unscrupulous puppy-farm owneds or old-fashioned testament revival justice, where people who leave dogs in hot automobiles are, themselves, locked in hot cars.

The great boon of pup-rights is that they can’t easily be aligned politically, so people who wouldn’t be happy with far-right connotations, or those of the left, can colonize snugly into some righteous fury that doesn’t involve bang-up their neighbours’ windows. This is the happy place of the modern Tory moderate: all the energy and zeal of communal rampage, but nothing of the unfortunate and ugly ethno-nationalism.

The only problem is that anger is not politically constructive: some spleen is inevitable, but only as a side-dish. For generative social image, you may have to look somewhere other than social media.

No deal: how the euro has become the talk of British holidaymakers

” Imagine how cheap who had allegedly been, before June 2016 …” This is the staple holiday conversation, repeated by every Brit in the eurozone, every seven instants, sometimes amended by the odd:” Well, that would still have been expensive, even when you got EUR1. 39 to the PS1″, and culminating in the regular detonation:” One to bloody one! We might as well have gone to Sweden and spend five quid on an apple .” Many things could change the climate, when autumn comes: the publication of the no-deal Armageddon scenarios may produce MPs to their gumptions. But these undertakings in Carrefour, going pointlessly mugged to no one’s benefit, will supply an interesting background dirge.

Read more: www.theguardian.com

READ MORE

Here’s the main issue behind the Jamie Oliver jerk rice row- and it’s not cultural appropriation

/ by / Tags: , , , ,

People object to a minted gentleman making money from an inauthentic bowl, while those who eat the real thing get diddly-squat

You can sounds, even from a great distance, that some contentions have a hot, insoluble core that won’t be easily cooled, in the same way that you can tell by watching a tavern push whether it is about a fraternal betrayal or somebody spilling something. The fracas over the personality cook Jamie Oliver’s punchy jerk rice- which led the Labour MP Dawn Butler to tweet:” Your jolt rice is not OK. This appropriation from Jamaica needs to stop”- is just such a row.

Oliver love coerced themselves awake. Which bit of his rice is wrong, again? That he would use spice that originated in another culture; that he would get the seasoning wrong; or that he would misapply it to the wrong ingredient, “jerk” being intended for meat , not rice? What do the liberals miss? Where was Butler when he started use mostarda di frutta on pasta? Won’t someone should be considered the Italians?” And what about tea ?”, lent the contrarians.” Is that cultural appropriation? Now we’ve appropriated it, is anyone else drinking it proper it back down us ?” The untrained commentator, arriving from space, would assume we were a nation that strenuously and irrationally desired, or detested, Oliver, whereupon discussing him at all itself becomes an act of culture appropriation. But that’s not really what’s going on.

If you never borrow anything, that is a creed of insularity and parochialism. Because this is an easy point to score, a lot of beings are coming in to bat for Oliver who wouldn’t run near his moron rice with a 10 -ft spoon, and never tasted his jollof rice either, with which he doubly insulted an entire continent in 2014, attaining it nothing like it was supposed to taste, and clumsily attributing it to Ghana when its parentages are raced. It was like going in to a Greek restaurant and prescribing a Turkish coffee, except multiplied by 17 and offering to make it yourself, with cloves.

But what people are angry about isn’t the homely cross-pollination of one appetizing stuff with another, but that a person who is already minted is making a load of money out of a bastardised version of something, while the people who eat the genuine recipe constitute diddly-squat from it. It is just another inequality story, abounding through the social scalp like a pimple. We’ll constrict it for a bit, it will hurt, some gunk will come out. The underlying ailments is unchanged, until a fresh boil erupts, maybe when Jeremy Paxman propels his own street-style label.

What is illuminating is that all this illustrates the object made a decade ago in the book The Spirit Level: Why More Equal Societies Almost Ever Do Better that difference is bad for everyone; it establishes everyone angrier, rich and poor; everyone’s mental health deteriorations, whatever their class. Richard Wilkinson and Kate Pickett, the book’s scribes, “ve never been” enormous speculators on why this should be, wishing not to obscure their clear epidemiological attest with conjecture. But you can understand on a gut grade why it might adversely affect all of us. Oliver probably does not wake up thinking of himself as emblematic of a rigged system. If all debate about equality is refracted through individuals, then nobody is liable enough to stand for the sin of privilege, and if you want to represent the underdog, you have to be so subdued yourself that you are almost dead. Personal credentials become the beginning and end of a battle that cannot be triumphed on that territory. A tranche of mind will conclude that the debate is too monotonous to bother with, or, as Peter York once archly said:” I’m just waiting for Gardeners’ Question Time to start talking about the inequality between my wisteria and my hydrangeas .”

I don’t have the answer, by the way: but I know it won’t be resolved by rice, and it would assist if the super-rich tried superhumanly hard-handed not to be jerks.

Is Michael Gove barking up the claim tree?

Michael Gove is not the go-to politician if your main issue is puppies- soon after his stand against dog” sanction collars”( remote-controlled collars that allow you to blast your dog with an electric shock or, more commonly, cold air when it misbehaves ), he went back on the notion of a outlaw. Now, though, he has come out against puppy farms. He will find few people who won’t support him in this: nonetheless much you distrust him and anguish of his Singapore-in-the-channel vision for Britain, you must despise more anyone who would malnourish a puppy for currency. If there is one thing besides Bake Off we could all sign up to, surely this “wouldve been” it?

Gove, like Boris Johnson, has seemingly turned to Facebook for intel on how to attain himself seem leaderly, except his puppy whistle is not Islamophobia but real dogs. There is a peculiar quality to the animal-rights activism on Facebook. You would think it would be fluffy because animals are, but it often terminates up in a singular region, announcing for the death penalty for unprincipled puppy-farm owners or old testament revitalization justice, where people who leave pups in hot cars are, themselves, locked in hot cars.

The great boon of pup-rights is that they can’t readily be aligned politically, so people who wouldn’t be happy with far-right connotations, or those of the left, can terminate snugly into some righteous fury that doesn’t involve break their neighbours’ windows. This is the happy place of the modern Tory moderate: all the power and zeal of communal rage, but none of the unfortunate and ugly ethno-nationalism.

The only problem is that anger is not politically constructive: some spleen is inevitable, but merely as a side-dish. For generative social perception, you may have to look somewhere other than social media.

No deal: how the euro has become the talk of British holidaymakers

” Imagine how cheap that would have been, before June 2016 …” This is the staple holiday conversation, repeated by every Brit in the eurozone, every seven times, sometimes amended by the odd:” Well, that would still have been expensive, even when you got EUR1. 39 to the PS1″, and culminating in the regular explosion:” One to murderou one! We might as well have gone to Sweden and waste five quid on an apple .” Many things could change the weather, when autumn comes: the publication of the no-deal Armageddon scenarios may raise MPs to their appreciations. But these escapades in Carrefour, getting pointlessly mugged to no one’s benefit, will supply an interesting background dirge.

Read more: www.theguardian.com

READ MORE

Barbra Streisand discloses she cloned her puppy twice

/ by / Tags: , , , , , ,

Singer and actor tells Variety she made clones of 14-year-old Samantha before it died last year

Barbra Streisand has divulged she successfully moved two clones of her domesticated dog after it died last year.

The singer and actor told the Hollywood trade publication Variety that cells were taken from the mouth and stomach of her 14 -year-old Coton de Tulear dog, Samantha.

” They have differing identities ,” Streisand said of the puppies, called Miss Scarlett and Miss Violet.” I’m waiting for them to get older so I can see if they have her brown eyes and her seriousness .”

In the interview, Streisand said when the cloned hounds arrived, she dressed them in red and lavender to tell them apart, which is how they got their names.

While waiting for their arrival, Streisand said she became smitten with another bird-dog, which was a distant relation of Samantha.

The Coton de Tulear dog was called Funny Girl, but Streisand borrowed her and caused her the call Miss Fanny, which is how Fanny Brice’s dresser refers to Streisand’s character in the 1968 musical that launched her performing career.

Streisand accepted Funny Girl, for which she acquired an Oscar, with Hello Dolly !, but said she never liked the film.

” I made I was entirely miscast. I tried to get out of it ,” she told Variety.” I think it’s so silly. It’s so old-time musical .”

Read more: www.theguardian.com

READ MORE

Here’s the main issue behind the Jamie Oliver jerk rice row- and it’s not culture appropriation

/ by / Tags: , , , ,

People object to a minted gentleman making money from an inauthentic dish, while those who eat the real thing get diddly-squat

You can sounds, even from a great distance, that some disputes have a hot, intractable core that won’t be easily cooled, in the same way that you can tell by watching a pub combat whether it is about a fraternal disloyalty or somebody spilling something. The fracas over the celebrity cook Jamie Oliver’s punchy jerk rice- which led the Labour MP Dawn Butler to tweet:” Your jerking rice is not OK. This appropriation from Jamaica needs to stop”- is just such a row.

Oliver devotees coerced themselves awake. Which bit of his rice is wrong, again? That he would use seasoning that originated in another culture; that he would get the seasoning wrong; or that he would misapply it to the wrong part, “jerk” being intended for meat , not rice? What do the liberals miss? Where was Butler when he started use mostarda di frutta on pasta? Won’t someone should be considered the Italians?” And what about tea ?”, contributed the contrarians.” Is that culture appropriation? Now we’ve appropriated it, is anyone else drinking it suitable it back down us ?” The untrained see, arriving from space, would assume we were a nation that strenuously and irrationally enjoyed, or detested, Oliver, whereupon discussing him at all itself becomes an act of culture appropriation. But that’s not really what’s going on.

If you never borrow anything, that is a creed of insularity and parochialism. Because this is an easy point to score, a lot of people are coming in to bat for Oliver who wouldn’t travel near his dork rice with a 10 -ft spoon, and never savoured his jollof rice either, with which he doubly insulted an entire continent in 2014, stirring it nothing like it was supposed to taste, and clumsily attributing it to Ghana when its roots are struggled. It was like going in to a Greek restaurant and telling a Turkish coffee, except multiplied by 17 and offering to make it yourself, with cloves.

But what parties are angry about isn’t the homely cross-pollination of one appetizing situation with another, but that a person who is already minted is making a load of fund out of a bastardised version of something, while the people who eat the genuine food become diddly-squat from it. It is just another difference storey, exploding through the social surface like a pimple. We’ll mash it for a little, it will hurt, some gunk will come out. The underlying situations will remain unchanged, until a fresh simmer starts, maybe when Jeremy Paxman propels his own street-style label.

What is illuminating is that all this illustrates the level made a decade ago in the book The Spirit Level: Why More Equal Civilizations Nearly Always Do Better that difference is bad for everyone; it manufactures everyone angrier, rich and good; everyone’s mental health worsens, whatever their class. Richard Wilkinson and Kate Pickett, the book’s columnists, “ve never been” great plungers on why this should be, opting not to muddy their clear epidemiological exhibit with conjecture. But you can understand on a gut height why it might adversely affect all of us. Oliver probably does not wake up thinking of himself as emblematic of a rigged structure. If all debate about equality is refracted through individuals, then nobody is liable enough to stand for the injustice of advantage, and if you want to represent the underdog, you have to be so subdued yourself that you are almost dead. Personal credentials become the beginning and end of a battle that cannot be prevailed on that territory. A tranche of sentiment will conclude that the debate is too laborious to bother with, or, as Peter York formerly archly said:” I’m just waiting for Gardeners’ Question Time to start talking about the inequality between my wisteria and my hydrangeas .”

I don’t have the answer, by the way: but I know it won’t be resolved by rice, and it would help if the super-rich tried superhumanly hard-handed not to be jerks.

Is Michael Gove barking up the claim tree?

Michael Gove is not the go-to politician if your main issue is puppies- shortly after his stand against hound” beating collars”( remote-controlled collars that allow you to blast your puppy with an electric shock or, more commonly, cold air where reference is misbehaves ), he went back on the notions of a injunction. Now, though, he has come out against puppy farms. He will find few people who won’t support him in this: however much you distrust him and despair of his Singapore-in-the-channel vision for Britain, you must despise more anyone who would malnourish a puppy for cash. If there is one thing besides Bake Off we could all sign up to, surely this would be it?

Gove, like Boris Johnson, has apparently turned to Facebook for intel on how to represent himself seem leaderly, except his hound whistling is not Islamophobia but real puppies. There is a peculiar quality to the animal-rights activism on Facebook. You would think it would be fluffy because animals are, but it often points up in a singular place, calling for the death penalty for unscrupulous puppy-farm owners or age-old evidence resuscitation justice, where people who leave dogs in hot autoes are, themselves, locked in hot cars.

The great boon of pup-rights is that they can’t readily be aligned politically, so people who wouldn’t be happy with far-right connotations, or those of the left, can resolve snugly into some righteous wrath that doesn’t involve dash their neighbours’ windows. This is the happy place of the modern Tory moderate: all the vigour and zeal of communal fury, but none of the unfortunate and ugly ethno-nationalism.

The only problem is that anger is not politically constructive: some spleen is inevitable, but simply as a side-dish. For generative social imagination, you may have to look somewhere other than social media.

No deal: how the euro has become the talk of British holidaymakers

” Imagine how cheap who had allegedly been, before June 2016 …” This is the staple holiday conversation, replicated by every Brit in the eurozone, every seven minutes, sometimes modified by the curious:” Well, that would still have been expensive, even when you got EUR1. 39 to the PS1″, and culminating in the regular explosion:” One to blood one! We might as well have gone to Sweden and spent five quid on an apple .” Many things could change the condition, when autumn comes: the release of the no-deal Armageddon scenarios may return MPs to their senses. But these escapades in Carrefour, get pointlessly mugged to no one’s benefit, will supply an interesting background dirge.

Read more: www.theguardian.com

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