Those Sneaky Bees!

Do you know where your honey came from? Probably not (unless you’re a hippy), because some manufacturers are deliberately hiding that information from you. As suggested in the article, it might be that they don’t want you to know that your honey was processed in places where the quality control standards are shockingly bad; but I rather suspect that Big Honey is trying to conceal the fact that most hives are run like crowded sweatshops, using forced labor.

 

Assssscoffee

“Kopi Luwak is very different from that cheap, gauche coffee you and I drink every day. This is because each hand-harvested bean of Kopi Luwak has been artisanally shat out of the digestive system of a small Indonesian pseudo-cat.” {From: Cat-butt coffee: A critical review – Boing Boing}

Interest in this Indonesian ass-roast coffee tends to resurface from time to time, but the thing I’ve noticed is that nobody seems to want to talk about whether or not it’s actually any good. Click the source link, and you’ll finally find out.

Incidentally, I’m all for the idea of wealthy people consuming food products that have come out of some creature or another’s butt. For the good of their souls, they should be constantly thinking about the nature of digestion.

Bee Mine

“Philips’ just unveiled a new concept for an urban beehive that would allow anyone to become an amateur bee keeper – even those who live in apartments with no backyards.” {From: Inhabitat | Via: Slashdot}

Hoo boy. We already have to deal with friends and acquaintances who constantly exude foodie condescension, with their smug bewilderment at the continued existence of fast food (“I just don’t know why anyone would want to put that into their bodies”), their exotic food allergies (“I’m sorry, I’m lactose intolerant unless the cheese just happens to be very old and expensive”), and all the other accoutrements that go along with competitive culinary dick-swinging–but personal, indoor bee hives?

How long, I ask you, until these things become popular? How long will it be until we find ourselves in a friend’s apartment, sitting next to a glass tube full of bees, while trying to appear completely unconcerned about the fact that we are, indeed, mere feet away from a GLASS TUBE FULL OF GODDAMN BEES?