Maybe, but it isn't more limited than what McDonald's thinks.

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/High-fructose_corn_syrup

also corn syrup is made from genetically modified corn for the most part and roundup ready corn which is modified so it can be doused with roundup and not die while sucking up poison to kill things around it. and insecticides that go into the plant to ward off bugs.
that is my summation although not technically accurate. so ill stick with real sugar.
i rarely will buy something with corn syrup in it. and i read every label on what i buy to eat.

When I was young I used to like to cook with cottonseed oil -- it was taste neutral, didn't burn easily and didn't turn rancid. In the early 70s an old beekeeper saw me using it while camping and told me about all the insecticides they spray on cotton. I haven't used it since. Corn oil is the same way -- don't use it unless you are *sure* you know how the corn was grown.

To further add to the off topic chain, sugars are important in Brewing Beer as fermenting sugars:

beer/fermenting-sugars

Also: howtobrew.com/priming-and-bottling/what-sugar-should-i-prime-with

Thankfully this gets us back to what is important in life, aside from Lastcard's rambles about London.

The minuscule residue(s) is of no real concern (especially as a % of ingested glop) but is usefully exploited by those with some purist agenda.

My life is better through chemistry. See beer brewing for just one simple example. Humans having engaged in that chemistry for millennium; to the benefit of all. Any residual "poisons" are just so much hooey - the benefits outweigh any suppose life diminishing aspect(s). In others words; a better life through chemistry.

There was a big fire at the Koko Club in Camden recently. At the front of the building, on hardboard, is a painting by Fanakapan, my favourite living artist:



Not his best work, but when I drove past today, it was in the process of being painted over, all white. Yet signed prints of his work sell out at £900 a time:

http://www.graffitiprints.com/artist/fanakapan/

The Koko owners must have no idea of his value. Amazing that such a thing could happen.

how could you not want that there.

Also fondly remembered as the Music Machine.

It's really silly. Smiley Faces? Now if he had done, say, a four-piece Jazz Band in the same type of theme then it would have been worth saving. As is, I say good riddance. Smart to paint it over.

Yeah, why have some art dealer pay you to come and remove it when you can simply pay somebody to paint over it?

Shok-1 is a good artist:

I'll drink to that!

he is good i will make no bones about it.

The left turn into Gypsy Lane heading west on Queen's Ride in Barnes is tricky if you're not used to it. You go over a little, humped railway bridge on a dark road, so you can't see it coming, and then instantly, before you expect it, there it is. I overshoot, right in front of the exact spot where Marc Bolan fatally went into the trees. The two ladies in the back are quite understanding: that turn catches you out. They should put a sign up or something.

There are already too many signs about all sorts of things. Certainly officials have more pressing issues, like keeping the Irish off the streets.

Saturday evening. Show starts at 7.30. I am not yet good enough at driving not to be a worse driver after six hours. It's a Zen thing, I'm sure. Some woman comes lurching across the Strand, waving me down. Next thing I know, as I've almost come to a halt, is she's slammed into the side of the cab and is lying on the ground. A group of concerned onlookers appears almost immediately out of nowhere in the middle the road, eyeing me suspiciously. My initial reaction is one of pure selfishness: this **** lying maimed underneath the cab is really going to **** with my day. Happily, she gets up uninjured, mumbling something about adultery with whores, pissed out of her head. Then she tries to get in the cab, but I am able to drive off in time. Not up the Strand, of course; there's roadworks and it's jammed, like there's roadworks everywhere.

You missed an interesting fare. And you may have had much more fun that night. Stop being so picky.

There is nothing remotely fun about people who can't handle a drink. In other news, my brother ended up sleeping on the night tube, but has now been taken in by Methodists, who have provided him with somewhere clean and safe to live. On condition that he does not drink. Miracles can happen, I suppose. Palace vodka from Poland is excellent BTW.

A guy with a reassuring accent wants to go from Smithfield to Cavell Street in Whitechapel. It dawns on me that this is almost exactly a Blue Book run, one of the 320 routes you have to learn at the beginning of the Knowledge, before it goes free-form. Barbican to London Hospital, one of the early ones. The shortest path is a cute little route round the back of Spitalfields, the street names redolent of the true East End: Hanbury Street, Greatorex Street, Old Montague Street. All of which is irrelevant, however, when Artillery Lane is closed. Wholesale road closures. London is not easy to navigate.

Hampstead's got something. London is a collection of villages, each with its own unique identity. When you are in e.g. Finsbury Park, you know you are; there is nowhere else like it. Every corner of Hampstead exudes an effortless, unattainable class; tailor-made for wealthy, post-war, displaced socialist intellectuals. Freud, Marty Feldman, George Orwell, John Wyndham, Ruth Ellis; they and many others all belong.

I Don’t know what a reassuring accent would soon like. Did Winston Churchill have one?

Freud polluted Vienna also. He didn’t belong anywhere. He thought America was a big mistake. Just shows how twisted and wasted his brain cells were, Especially after all His destructive use of cocaine.

I spent a few teenage years down the road from Hampstead. Last I heard it had become overrun with wealthy American bankers and film people.

sounds like the place to invest in buying a piece of property or a house.

Lord Ickenham (Uncle Fred) 5th Earl of Ickenham, wasn’t mentioned by Lastcard in his list of intellectuals, an oversight that requires his immediate attention.

Yes, good call, they're rare. Steven Berkoff has a good accent, but not reassuring. I know, because I saw him on Sunday at the Arcola theatre in Dalston, preaching to the converted about how racism and fascism are bad news. By coincidence, I had recommended the related Cable Street mural to our friend with the accent.



Everywhere I went on Sunday there was good music playing, but the hipsters of the Arcola bar win once again.