Thursday, January 30, 2014

Sometimes Asparagus Is More Than Asparagus


Helen Yoest didn’t set out, as she said recently, to write a horticultural Kama Sutra. It was sort of an accident. Ms. Yoest, a garden writer, was researching an article on avocados when she learned that the fruit was considered an aphrodisiac. What makes it so, she wondered: The nutrients? The shape? Bingo. Turns out their reputation dates to the Aztecs, who marveled at how avocados grew in pairs, and named the plant “the testicle tree.” 

“I was fascinated to learn that during the harvest, the ancient Aztecs would lock up their virgin daughters,” Ms. Yoest said. “That’s a very powerful image.

So began her exploration of what she calls “plants with benefits,” or plants that have aphrodisiac qualities. Some, like the avocado, derive their oomph from their suggestive shape. Ditto the banana, the fig, the papaya and so on. Others affect brain chemistry, increase blood flow to the nether regions or mimic human hormones. Some, like the pomegranate, are also super-foods, so-called because of their powerful nutritional content. The results of going down this diverting rabbit hole are collected in “Plants With Benefits: An Uninhibited Guide to the Aphrodisiac Herbs, Fruits, Flowers and Veggies in Your Garden,” out this week from St. Lynn’s Press.
“Plants With Benefits,” is due out this week. James Nieves/The New York Times
Q. I was amused that you quoted Virgil on arugula (“the rocket excites the sexual desire of drowsy people”) since I eat the stuff every day. And I was most surprised to learn of boring old celery’s properties as an erection-enhancer and pheromone-jogger. What were you most surprised by?
A. I would have to say something like the studies on lavender or almonds. Honestly, if I smell almonds it’s like, “Wow, what’s happening?” What makes something become an aphrodisiac? The main thing is if its shape is suggestive — if it looks like a duck and acts like a duck. We didn’t invent sophomoric jokes about bananas and figs. We’re just carrying the torch.

The other thing that surprised me was the plants that mimic human hormones. Of course, we don’t know how much you have to eat of say, coriander, to get the boing factor. The F.D.A. hasn’t weighed in. 
 
Can we talk about the lavender studies? You cite a study in which men were exposed to various food aromas and then their level of sexual arousal was recorded by measuring the blood flow to their genitals. The scent of lavender increased blood flow by 40 percent, as compared to cheese pizza, which increased it by only 5 percent. Um, pizza? Do you recall what other aromas were tested?
The other biggie was pumpkin pie. And licorice, specifically Good & Plenty. It just drove men wild.

Which plant is the best aphrodisiac for women?
Almonds. It’s not just the scent. Almonds contain amino acids, which are known to increase arousal.

And for men?
After licorice, garlic is another really interesting one. It has a long reputation for increasing sexual drive. In India, ancient laws forbade Brahmins from eating garlic. Today, Tibetan monks are forbidden to eat it because of its arousal properties. Which I think is just really unfair. They can’t have sex or garlic.
Which plant should require a prescription?
After licorice, I’d say nutmeg, which in large quantities is a hallucinogenic.

You say your ideal pre-sex meal is Champagne, almond soup, quinoa salad and chocolate. What about a meal made with only the plants you’re able to grow: what might that consist of?
I live in Raleigh, N.C., which is Zone 7. Certainly asparagus. That’s another one with a suggestive visual. As are carrots. Basil is aromatherapy. In ancient times, women would rub dried basil on their bodies to make themselves more sexually attractive.

I can grow figs. I might make a celery soup, or something with arugula. Definitely fennel, which comes at you from every direction: it has pheromones, phytoestrogens and an estrogen-like substance called estragole. It’s been tested on rats for its libido-enhancing properties.

Cucumbers: Those are a good, all-around healthy food. You know how the Viagra ads say you should be in good health for sex? Cucumbers are rich in potassium, which helps with hypertension, which helps with erectile dysfunction. Studies have shown the scent of cucumbers really increases arousal in women. Whereas men were just fine with Good & Plenty.

A Mafia Legacy Taints the Earth 

in Southern Italy


CASAL DI PRINCIPE, Italy — The Italian state arrived in the heartland of the Camorra mafia this month bearing a backhoe. Police officers in polished black boots posed for television cameras as the backhoe clawed into an overgrown field, searching for barrels of toxic waste or some other illegal industrial sarcophagi.

Two jailed mafia informants had identified the field as one of the secret sites where the Camorra had buried toxic waste, near a region north of Naples known as the Triangle of Death because of the emergence of clusters of cancer cases. One environmental group estimates that 10 million tons of toxic garbage has been illegally buried here since the early 1990s, earning billions of dollars for the mafia even as toxic substances leached into the soil and the water table.

While the dumping has been widely documented, the trash crisis has only worsened, as the parallel problem of the illegal burning of toxic waste has brought the region another nickname, the Land of Fires. With new revelations fueling public outrage, the question is whether the Italian government will confront the Camorra and clean up the mess — and whether the mess can be cleaned up at all.

“The environment here is poisoned,” said Dr. Alfredo Mazza, a cardiologist who documented an alarming rise in local cancer cases in a 2004 study published in the British medical journal The Lancet. “It’s impossible to clean it all up. The area is too vast.”He added, “We’re living on top of a bomb.”

Garbage is a perennial problem in Italy as landfills run out of space, setting off periodic crises in cities like Rome and Naples. But the land of the Camorra, stretching from the Tyrrhenian Sea to the Apennine foothills, is a particularly vivid tableau of ruined beauty.

Garbage is strewn along highways, tossed beneath overpasses or dumped atop irrigation canals. Rats search for food amid discarded sheets of asbestos, broken computer screens and empty paint cans. Plumes of black smoke often rise, the entrails of trash illegally burned from distant hillsides or abandoned fields.

The landscape is a result of decades of secret dealings between manufacturers in Italy and beyond, who sought to avoid the high costs of legally disposing of hazardous waste, and the Camorra, one of Italy’s three main mafia organizations, which saw the potential to make huge profits by disposing of it illegally.

By burying the waste in its backyard near Naples and the surrounding region of Campania, where the Camorra was born, the mob ensured a measure of protection, and silence. Bosses often exert a powerful influence over the local economy and politicians, especially in small towns like Casal di Principe.

“The mafia has made money on the garbage,” said Ciro Tufano, 44, an accountant who has spent two decades pushing officials to clean up a toxic site near his home. “Politicians must have been aware, but they don’t care. Nobody was tracking this trail of garbage.”

The public has awakened in recent months, though, after a string of disclosures and protests that brought thousands of people onto the streets of Naples in November.  Some revelations came from the declassified 1997 testimony of Carmine Schiavone, a former treasurer for the Casalesi clan, one of the most powerful Camorra factions. Speaking in secret to an investigative parliamentary committee, Mr. Schiavone had described nighttime operations in which mobsters wearing police uniforms supervised the burial of toxic garbage from as far away as Germany.

“We are talking about millions of tons,” Mr. Schiavone warned in his testimony 17 years ago, portraying an environmental disaster.

Then, the Italian newsmagazine L’Espresso published a cover story titled “Drink Naples and Then Die.” The article detailed a public health survey conducted in 2008 by the United States Navy, which has a base in Naples. The Navy study, which had not been publicized in Italy, found serious water contamination. It described “unacceptable risks” in some areas and recommended that all Americans stationed in the region use bottled water for drinking, food preparation and brushing teeth.

Last month, Prime Minister Enrico Letta approved a decree to increase prison sentences for illegally dumping or burning waste. This month, the government announced that a contingent of Italian soldiers would conduct anti-dumping patrols in the region.

“This is a response to an emergency situation,” said Gen. Sergio Costa, commander of the Naples region for Italy’s environmental police. “Politicians now have to respond because people are now marching on the streets.”

The digging operation with the backhoe this month was supposed to demonstrate the government’s newfound resolve. The location was just outside the usual parameters of the Triangle of Death dumping zone, but in a city synonymous with the Casalesi clan. Journalists were invited amid expectations that the backhoe would unearth canisters of hazardous waste. In 2008, a chemical truck had been discovered beneath a field a few miles away.

But what emerged after hours was dirt and skepticism. Officials said later that digging would continue for weeks and that quantities of asbestos and mud tainted by industrial waste had already been recovered. The owner of the land, Stanislao Di Bello, a lawyer who bought the plot in 1990 as an investment, watched the work from behind tinted glasses, unimpressed. He said the authorities had also excavated the land in the early 1990s but found nothing.

“Now, after 16 years, the movie repeats itself,” he said. 

The biggest question is whether the buried toxic materials could cause a public health crisis. More than 500,000 people live in the region, and the Lancet study and other reports have documented cancer rates far above the national average. While no study has sought to prove a direct link, a World Health Organization report conducted with national and local health institutions documented clusters of liver, kidney, pancreatic and other cancers in areas known as dump sites.

Friday, January 10, 2014

The f-word is everywhere

By Roy Peter Clark
updated 8:25 AM EST, Thu January 9, 2014
Wall Street is a place of near-mythical competition, ambition and greed -- and, as a result, it's also the setting of some of our favorite Hollywood films. On Christmas Day, Martin Scorsese and Leonardo DiCaprio will paint a portrait of a fraudulent stockbroker living a criminally high life in "The Wolf of Wall Street," which is based on the true story of Jordan Belfort. If we're lucky, it'll be as rich as some of these: Wall Street is a place of near-mythical competition, ambition and greed -- and, as a result, it's also the setting of some of our favorite Hollywood films. On Christmas Day, Martin Scorsese and Leonardo DiCaprio will paint a portrait of a fraudulent stockbroker living a criminally high life in "The Wolf of Wall Street," which is based on the true story of Jordan Belfort.
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Editor's note: Editor's note: Roy Peter Clark is senior scholar at the Poynter Institute in St. Petersburg, Florida. He is the author of books on writing and language, including "How to Write Short: Word Craft for Fast Times." This essay contains some words and ideas taken from his earlier essays on the topic of language taboos. He can be reached at rclark@poynter.org.

(CNN) -- Not long ago I received a complaint from a co-worker that I had used the f-word in a tweet. I was quoting a lyric from the band Vampire Weekend: "Who gives a f--- about an Oxford comma?" My answer was, of course, "I do." The full quote, without the fig leaf, appears in my book "The Glamour of Grammar."

I come by my f-wordiness honestly. My grandmother used it easily and could swear in three languages. My mother -- at the age of 94 -- drops an f-bomb in every telephone conversation. During a trivia game at her assisted living home, she could not think of the name of Peter, Paul, and Mary's magic dragon, so she blurted: "F--- the Magic Dragon," which now has become the family's official title for the song.

Roy Peter Clark
Roy Peter Clark
 
The f-word is almost everywhere. While still not fit for polite society, it no longer carries the depth of taboo attributed to it in 1978 by that hero of foul mouthery George Carlin, who said in a comic monologue: "The big one, the word f---, that's the one that hangs them up the most."

Its common usage in popular culture today may have transformed it into one of the most versatile words in American English. It might qualify as the word of the new century.  But is that a good thing?

Setting records on screen
The recent opening of the Martin Scorsese film "The Wolf of Wall Street" has inspired critical and popular complaints about its excesses, including its language. I have not yet seen the film, but am grateful to the dirty word counters, who have recorded a total of 506 uses of the f-word in the three-hour movie. Wikipedia, Variety, Time and various other sources cite this as a record for a non-documentary film, beating Spike Lee's "Summer of Sam" (435), and two earlier Scorsese projects: "Casino" (422) and "Goodfellas" (300).

Versions of the f-word appear so often in "Wolf" that an accurate count might be impossible. Slate's total comes in at 544. (I hope I don't see a Politifact report contesting these numbers.)  "Summer of Sam" appears to keep the record for most fpm: f-words per minute, at 3.1. "Wolf" does beat "Casino" on this metric. In his mischievous book of lists, Karl Shaw calculates that a viewer of "Casino" will hear the f-word on the average of 2.4 times per minute. For "Wolf" it's 2.8 times.

'The Wolf of Wall Street' backlash
DiCaprio on 'Wolf of Wall Street'

How things have changed.
I remember with surprising clarity the first time I used the f-word. One of the Masterson brothers told me a joke, and he thought it was so funny I ran home to tell my mother. She didn't laugh and made me repeat it to my father. It was 1956 or so. I was, maybe, 8 years old. Things did not go well.

I went to work with my dad one day, a United States Customs officer on one of the New York piers. A group of men stood inside, including some rough-looking longshoremen, who dropped the f-word loudly and often into their gritty conversation. Several men, alerting them to my presence, told them to stick a cork in it. Even in their gruffness, they looked sheepish and apologetic.

First encounters
I remember exactly where I was standing the first time I heard a girl my age use the f-word. It was 1967 and I was a sophomore in college. She sat on the ground, a hippie chick, smoking and grousing about her inability to score tickets for the Newport Folk Festival.

And I know exactly where I first encountered the f-word in print. I was a freshman in high school, and the book was called "The Catcher in the Rye," a work on many lists of the most often banned books. J.D. Salinger uses the word five times in "Catcher" with great power and specificity. I still own the book where I underlined each use of the word.

I remember the teachers who tried to convince me that the main problem with the f-word was not its power to offend, but the evidence it gave of your limited vocabulary. I blew that criticism off back then, but I'm beginning to think they were on to something.

Not that the f-word isn't an amazingly versatile piece of our four-letter Anglo-Saxon heritage. Think about it. It can express surprise, outrage, anger, humor, delight or desire. And it can stand in for several parts of speech: noun, verb (in any tense), gerund, participle, imperative, interrogative, interjection, to mention just the most common uses.

It can be used with other little prepositional helpers. You can f--- with someone's mind. You can be too f---ed up to walk. You can get f---ed over by the IRS.

A rare language form
Let's not forget use of the f-word as one of the rarest of language forms, the infix. A prefix comes before a word. A suffix comes after. An infix appears in the middle of a normal word or phrase, as in "You are damn f---ing right." Or "un-f---ing-believable." Or as they like to moan in Boston when thinking of the New York Yankees victory in the 1978 playoff game: "Bucky F---ing Dent!" It was the light-hitting Dent's timely home run that ruined the Red Sox season.

All this and more is chronicled in the recent 270-page lexicon titled "The F-Word," by Jesse Sheidlower, editor at large of the Oxford English Dictionary. Lex meets sex.

Perhaps the ultimate expression of the f-word's versatility comes in a famous scene from David Simon's HBO series "The Wire" in which two detectives explore a crime scene.  The scene takes less than four minutes, during which the cops use versions of the f-word, by my count, 34 times. It is the only word used in the scene.

As they look at crime scene photos of naked and murdered women, the word expresses disgust. As they examine the conflicting evidence, the word describes frustration. As they begin to piece things together, it describes mounting excitement. When they find a key piece of evidence, it is a word of celebration.

Offensive from the beginning
The f-word has a long history, and, unlike some other taboo words, seems to have been offensive from the start. Just as newspapers and this website put a veil over the word by eliminating some letters, the earliest known version of the word in English was written in code.

According to the American Heritage Dictionary, an English poem dated about 1500 makes fun of clerics who don't keep their vows, including a line that translates: "They are not in heaven because they f--- wives of Ely" (a town near Cambridge). In the text, the f-word appears in the form of a letter substitution code.

Though still considered vulgar slang, the f-word is more prevalent than ever, and is often cited as evidence of the coarsening of our culture. The publisher of "The Naked and The Dead" asked Norman Mailer to substitute "fug" in 1947. Six decades later, the f-word is a staple in hip-hop music, stand-up comedy routines, locker room harangues, pornographic repartee, and any movie or cable television series that tries to portray gritty, realistic dialogue. Cops use it, thugs use it, even grads with Ph.Ds use it.

I am making the case that, given its ubiquity and versatility, the "f-word" is one of the most important words of the 21st century, which is why we should pay close attention to how it can be used well.
Given its ubiquity and versatility, the "f-word" is one of the most important words of the 21st century...
Roy Peter Clark
 
In previous essays on language, I have offered these justifications for dropping the occasional f-bomb:
1. As an authentic expression of realistic human speech.
2. As a single, shocking, almost-out-of context blow to the solar plexus.
3. As a neutralizer to the poison of piety, fastidiousness and erudition.
4. As a way of defining character.

None other than Theodore Bernstein, the influential style czar of The New York Times, once published this opinion: "There is not ... a single transitive verb in respectable or even in scientific language that expresses the idea of the slang verb f---."

Using and overusing the f-word
Perhaps the most moving use of the f-word I ever encountered came in the documentary 9/11 by two French brothers, who were telling the story of a firehouse in New York. During the filming, two jetliners flew into the Twin Towers, changing the way Americans look at the world. Even though the show ran on commercial television, we were given a chance to hear, uncensored, the rough emotional language of a fraternity of brave men facing their greatest challenge. Real life.

There is a numbing quality to overuse of the f-word. Shock and stark realism can be created without it. You won't find it in the novel "The Great Gatsby," or the recent film version, which, like "Wolf," stars Leonardo DiCaprio. I don't remember hearing it in a Jerry Seinfeld monologue.

In \ 
 
In "Breaking Bad", the Walter White character used the f-word sparingly. I like it best when it is used rarely and in a perfect context, as when it comes out of the mouth of the character Walter White, the high school chemistry teacher who becomes the drug lord of "Breaking Bad." When he first utters it in rage and frustration at a moment of great pain, it has as much power as a gun blast.

It works best when delivered at just the right dramatic moment. To keep up with the Scorsese rate, the characters in "Breaking Bad" would have to utter the f-word about 140 times -- in each 47-minute episode.