I see Philadelphia is putting a tax on sugary "soda" drinks to try and combat the 2/3ds adult obesity. A girl in front of me at the checkouts had four liters of "energy" drinks and a few sweets on the belt. She was wider than she was tall and unable to walk properly because her thighs were far too fat to pass each other. So that her feet had to rotate in short arcs as she repeatedly leaned her bulk just enough to lift each foot in turn off the ground. If they won't sell booze to the already drunk in bars... why is it legal to serve such dangerous substances to tragic victims of "carpet sugar bombing" by the genocidal, "food" industrialists.
Sugar is like the lottery. There are only a tiny few winners but everybody else loses and they pay for the winner's windfall. In other words: A license to print money. The sugar industry spent a fortune fighting the Philadelphia "soda" bill. The real question is why it has taken so long to recognise that every sugar bomb these vile monsters sell is extremely toxic.
I was just reading about a guard at Auschwitz being prosecuted for being involved in the deaths of hundreds of thousands. When will we have checkout operators on trial for being involved in the industrialized deaths of literally hundreds of millions of innocent people? Does anybody else recognise the terrifying similarities between supermarkets and Auschwitz? It's where hundreds of millions of people go to die. They even have fences to direct the innocents from the marshal yards outside. Even somewhere for the dogs to be tied up before their owners shuffle to their slaughter under the watchful eyes of the guards.
Mid afternoon ride as massive clouds piled up to the north again. Black as ink lower down. Fortunately it stayed dry, warm and sunny for us despite a narrow, towering pillar of cloud not far north of us. Apart form the usual jumble of 'cauliflower' it had a very strange bump with dark lines just like the gores of a colossal balloon. I was too lazy to stop and photograph it with my camera buried [in its case] deep under all the shopping in the bag. Tailwind going, head wind coming home. The poor wind turbines didn't know whether to stop or go all day. Only 10 miles.
Friday 17th 62-70F, 17-21C, sunny with thin, high cloud and light winds. Possible showers forecast yet again but they have been almost absent in our area so far. Though it did rain heavily one night. The wood chippings from the felled hedge were washed downhill on the track to the woods. Horsens' two hour long, 115.2mm cloudburst has been described as a "once in 500 years" deluge by the DMI. I borrowed this image from the DMI's website to show how extremely concentrated it was. Not far outside Horsens, to the west, there was almost no rain at all. Horsens is shown in dark red and is almost central in the Danish landmass. It lies at the head of an estuary.
AThe detritus of a previous generation being sold off. Even at only a fiver each there are no takers. Bicycles for sale are a common sight beside Danish roads. If these were on roadside display in the UK they would be stolen and/or trashed before the owner had gone back indoors. The same goes for building materials. They can stand outside for months without being touched in Denmark. In Britain they would be stolen before the delivery lorry was out of sight. What do you expect when their 'betters' are all at it too?
After yesterday's foolishness in long, wet grass I chose to stick to the asphalt today. With my trekking sandals for comfort I chose a pleasant route around the block. Going clockwise just for a change. A Marsh Harrier lifted off a bare, damp patch on a field and flew off to watch me from the safety of a hedgerow tree. Once I was away from the main road traffic the noise levels dropped to the purely historical. Probably unchanged in thousands of years.
An unending, dawn chorus filled the air. With Blackbirds competing with warblers, Chaffinches and rarer Greenfinches. A solitary Cuckoo called softly and without urgency. While dozens of martins were giving their usual, stiff winged, aerial display around the village churchyard. Their mud nests clinging precariously to the ancient eaves. With the scars of earlier nests darker semicircles against the snowy whitewash providing little confidence of longevity. The pond coots were nowhere to be seen today. The untidy nest now neatly lined with dried mud. Their tell-tail trails through the uniform carpet of mushy-peas, pond weed were the only clues to their presence beyond the newly concealing trees. Only farm tractors interrupted my progress beyond that point. As they moved soil and animals, each in their own specialized trailers, going in both directions.
Late morning ride to buy some nuts. Returned with eight when I really needed 16! Not so much some nuts as a sum nuts error. What about 20 miles to buy the wrong number of nuts is the sum of today's activities? Suit yourselves. Enjoyed a ride through the lumpy forest on the way back. I have seen more different kinds of birds of prey today than I can ever remember. I was riding along with a bird of prey only 20' away traveling parallel with my course and staring intently down at the field on my left. It's mate was hovering just above waiting for a tasty mouse takeaway. Neither seemed concerned with my presence. It turned thundery with very heavy showers later after a hot and humid afternoon of bright sunshine. 14 miles.