Salad Days Research Articles

Salad Days: Pairwise Gene Edits Food to Topple Nutrition Barriers

Salad Days: Pairwise Gene Edits Food to Topple Nutrition Barriers

John Huxtable Elliott (1930–2022)

John Huxtable Elliott (1930–2022)

Exhibition Review

Abstract Too Fast to Live, Too Young to Die: Punk Graphics, 1976–1986 Exhibition and Shepard Fairey: Salad Days, 1989–1999 Exhibition, Andrew Blauvelt, Steffi Duarte and Andrew Krivine, Cranbrook Art Museum, Bloomfield Hills, MI, 16 June–7 October 2018

The Salad Days of the EU Digital Service Tax

Responding to a series of aggressive tax planning allegedly committed by multinational corporations running their businesses on digital platforms, states have drafted laws that would enable them to impose additional taxes on such corporations. In the EU, the proposal for a Council Directive on the Digital Services Tax (DST) projects for a 3% tax chargeable on the revenues generated by corporations surpassing a certain threshold of global and EU yearly revenues. The initial plan is to tax these corporations with respect to their online placement of advertising, enabling of online marketplaces, and sales of collected user data. While the EU organs are still undergoing the due legislative processes on the proposal, two flaws of the DST may be argued, namely that it conflates features of direct taxes (i.e. income tax) with that of indirect taxes (i.e. value added tax); and that it embeds covert discriminatory measures against certain multinational corporations. The maturation of the DST depends on the formulation of sound legal principles and ingenious concept which would hallmark a DST regime from the corporate income tax one.

O'Neill (Unexpected)

O'Neill (Unexpected)

A Moon for the Misbegotten

A Moon for the Misbegotten

The Song of Songs

The Song of Songs Gardner Landry (bio) At the beginning of my sophomore year in high school, before I had my driver’s license, my friend Scott McClendon used to drive a group of us to school in his 1960s-era white Ford Galaxie 500—a car that holds a mythic place in my memory of that now misty era. I recall that Scott’s birthday was in late August or early September, so he was driving before the rest of us. That was a bit of serendipity too, because Scott, or Woody, as we all called him, was a master of what he termed “fancy driving.” He could make that Galaxie 500 do things with its fabricated metal mass that some circus performers could only dream of doing with their far more pliant corporeal selves. Among many exploits, I remember watching him drive down an important thoroughfare at a fast clip, slam on the brakes, and spin 180 degrees, skidding into a perfect parallel parking spot on the opposite side of the street with the panache of an Olympic diver executing a flawless double backflip before splashlessly entering the water. I have recently learned that this kind of technique is now referred to as “drift parking.” Such a term seems to imply a far too self-conscious and premeditatedly technical maneuver when glossed against my memories of Woody’s impromptu shenanigans behind the wheel. One of Woody’s favorite after-school activities was to lock the Galaxie into a spin in the middle of a neighborhood street that curved alongside one of the little triangular esplanades that provided a modicum of variety to our otherwise unremarkable suburban neighborhood design (which I learned, much later in life, was modeled after Frank Lloyd Wright’s “Broadacres City” concept). On one drizzly, late fall afternoon, the curve from Doliver into Rocky River was in ideal condition for the daily celebratory afternoon McClendon spinout, so we angled into the curve and Woody locked up the brakes and jammed the steering wheel hard to the left, and we began to experience the donut of all [End Page 106] donuts, the spin of spins, the acme of after-school fancy driving bliss. The street was just wet enough for all the residual street-surface auto oil and fluids and water to mix, and about 280 degrees into the gyre, Scott and I looked at one another with a giddy, oh-my-God-this-is-cool-and-we’re-here-for-it kind of amazement as the Galaxie continued to spin, finally coming to a stop after a full 540 degrees. From time prior and thenceforth, I am fully convinced that never has a more accomplished example of fancy driving been executed in such a relatively confined space in the neighborhood of my wide-eyed salad days. It was like time was standing still and we were in the middle of some kind of cosmic wormhole through which the Galaxie 500 had transported us—both of us acknowledging the awesome coolness of the spin and hyper-cognizant that there was nothing we could do but attempt to appreciate the experience fully during the fleeting seconds of its duration. I recall another case of mutually apprehended awe during a similar, surreally protracted experience during that same era. It happened one afternoon as I sat on the little love seat on my mother’s side of my parents’ bedroom. My mother was born without a sense of smell—a deficiency also known as anosmia that my father credited as the secret to the success of their marriage. Although my mother’s forbearance regarding many of my father’s other habits might have warranted far more awe, her absence of a sense of smell would prove itself to be a not unwelcome handicap in her connubial sidecar next to the self-exalted bed of Fred. My father seemed to be as impressed with his ability to break wind as he was with his oratory and singing skills—the nether end of his alimentary canal providing him with as much pleasure as that which took in the mayonnaise-slathered morsels that, doubtless, lent such an inimitable freddish timbre and vibrato...

Green Worlds: Shakespeare’s Plays and Early Modern Imagery

If Iago’s famous words to Othello defining jealousy as “the green-eyed monster” (3.3.170) clearly associate green with bilious envy, Cleopatra’s reference to her “salad days” (Antony and Cleopatra, 1.5.72) tends to equate ‘greenness’ with fresh innocence. This paper will seek to explore how such fluctuations of meanings correlate with the varied and contradictory visions of nature, youth, and decay prevailing at the time. Significantly, in Jean Robertet’s L’exposition des couleurs (c. 1435-1502), green could serve as an allegory of both vice and virtue, evil and joy, and thus also represent transience and versatility. Once the colour of chivalry, it came to be disparaged, but Vert gai’s vibrant hues and vert perdu’s darker ones still coexisted in proverbs, plays or works of art. Shakespeare’s worlds, even in the very heart of pastoral comedies (A Midsummer Night’s Dream, The Winter’s Tale, As You Like It or The Tempest), reveal the same propensity to oscillate between the lightness of ‘gay green’ and the darker, disquieting vein of ‘lost green’. Being transient, changeable or threatening, green worlds are the very realms of ambivalence.

The Accidental Mascot: How Mr. Celery Reached His Salad Days with the Wilmington Blue Rocks

INTRODUCTION Mascots have a long history in minor-league baseball as rallying forces or ongoing symbols of their team. Some minor-league teams have long-standing traditional mascots, perhaps based on local or regional attributes, while other teams which are owned by, or have long-standing relationships with, a major-league parent, such as the Reading Phillies or the Pawtucket Red Sox, often have a junior version of the parent club's mascot.' Whatever their historic derivation, minor-league team mascots serve an important role in generating excitement and coalescing support for the home team. Similarly, some teams have logos, symbols, or even right songs which serve as rallying points for fans. Although it is not uncommon for an impromptu symbol, slogan, or cheer to arise in the heat of a pennant race, it is rare when a full-blown mascot suddenly appears and becomes wildly popular, particularly when the mascot in question has no discernible features or connections whatsoever to the team. In 2000, one such accidental mascot--a celery stalk--took the fans of the Wilmington Blue Rocks by storm. This paper will discuss the germination and evolution of Mr. Celery as a mascot, particularly his impact fanatically and economically on the Blue Rocks and their fans; the implications on sponsors and other stakeholders on the addition of new mascots; and the place of new mascots in existing promotional, marketing, merchandising programs and operations for the team. HISTORICAL DEVELOPMENT AND SIGNIFICANCE OF MASCOTS AND OTHER SYMBOLS Mascot: a person or thing held to bring good luck; something regarded as a cherished emblem or symbol. The word mascot, which may have been first used dialectically in Provence and Gascony to describe anything that brought luck to a household, was subsequently popularized by a comic operetta entitled La Mascotte.2 In the United States, mascots have traditionally been chosen to reflect qualities (such as the fighting spirit personified by predatory animals or warriors) or local or regional traits. Some minor-league teams have long-standing traditional mascots, such as Wool E. Bull (Durham Bulls) or Muddy the Mud Hen (Toledo Mud Hens). Other minor-league teams have local or regional features which have been used to create a mascot--for example, Champ, the purported underwater denizen of Lake Champlain who serves as mascot for the Vermont Lake Monsters. Successful mascots such as Champ survive even when team ownership is in peril or changes hands. The mascot is part of the team, not the ownership group. It has its own identity, and its own fan base, which transcends that of any owner. A recent Mascot Mania contest sponsored by Minor League Baseball (MiLB) demonstrates the fierce loyalty of fans to their mascots. In Spring 2012, MiLB created a 64-spot playoff bracket (similar to the brackets for the NCAA men's and women's basketball tournaments) and conducted six rounds of voting to reduce the field to a Final Four of Ike the Spike (State College Spikes, Pirates); Orbit (Albuquerque Isotopes, Dodgers); Phinley (Clearwater Threshers, Phillies); and Snappy D. Turtle (Beloit Snappers, Twins.) It is not clear how MiLB selected 64 mascots from over 150 minor-league teams. However, hundreds of messages posted on MiLB's website indicated that many fans were upset that their favorite mascots were not in the field of 64. Many of the 326 comments bemoaned the exclusion of mascots such as Spikes (Rochester Red Wings), Sox the Fox (Colorado Springs), Scrappy (Mahoning Valley Scrappers), and Humphrey (Boise Hawks.) It is not uncommon for impromptu symbols to arise in the heat of a pennant race or season. For example, the Los Angeles Angels' Rally Monkey mascot debuted on June 6, 2000, when, with the Angels trailing the San Francisco Giants 5-4 in the bottom of the ninth inning, two video board operators took a clip of a monkey jumping around from the 1994 movie Ace Ventura: Pet Detective, superimposing the words RALLY MONKEY on the screen. …

Foreign Bodies:

Foreign Bodies:

Plasticity and banking potential of cultured adipose tissue derived mesenchymal stem cells

The present day research on stem cells is yet not filled to the gunwales. The correlation of stem cell technology with tissue repair still has a long way to go. Since Embryonic stem cells are a kind of thorn inside when it comes to therapeutics, there emerged few potent contemporary sources of stem cells. Though bone marrow proves to be the pioneer among these, they lose themselves to adipose tissue in various aspects. The major shortcoming of bone marrow lies in lieu of its loss in potency with age. Adipose tissue puts up a tough competition among leading edge stem cell sources like cord blood and cord matrix. Adipose tissue wins over its counterparts in that it possesses astounding proliferation potency in vitro and holds a prominent stand in showcasing in vivo tissue repair efficacy. In spite of its precedence, the whole enchilada of adipose derived stem cells is still in its salad days. In our work we aim at excogitating the Mesenchymal stem cell population present in cultured adipose derived stem cells, in a wide perspective. Furthermore, the coalition of cell adhesion molecules with the proliferation potency of MSC and analysis of growth curve of ADSC was also paid accolade. The presence of robust MSC with immense differentiation and transdifferentiation potency was endorsed by lucrative differentiation of P3 cells into mesodermal and neuronal lineages. Additionally, mesenchymal stem cells exhibiting coherent expression of surface markers at P3 in all samples can be cryopreserved for therapeutic applications.

‘We Said We Wouldn’t Look Back’: Utopia and the backward glance in Dorothy Reynolds and Julian Slade’s Salad Days

The 1954 British musical Salad Days has been almost completely neglected by academics, partly, it seems because it is assumed to be light, frothy nonsense with no real significance. Its neglect is particularly noteworthy considering Salad Days’ huge popularity in its own time. But this musical is far from conservative; the protagonists are a young graduate couple, who try to circumvent the restrictions of the grim world of the diegetic narrative and more specifically the gendered and classed roles expected of them. This article revisits Salad Days, reading it as a utopian text and in doing so repositions the show as an articulation of utopian desire for the ‘not-yet’ of a more liberated future. Although, the novel has been the traditional home of utopia, musical theatre is considered here to contain forms that can circumvent the regulations of prose fiction. The abstract and non-representational nature of music and performance makes them effective modes for articulating utopian desire. Salad Days uses both utopian and nostalgic sensibilities, and this article explores ways in which the utopian modes challenge ideological boundaries, and the backward glance signifies mourning for lost opportunities.

Singapore's salad days are over

Singapore's salad days are over

Salad Days

Salad Days Gregory E. Kaebnick The Hastings Center Report has just concluded its thirty-ninth year of publishing, and the annual index at the back of this issue reflects the wide array of topics that the Center has dealt with over that span of time—from biotechnology to public health, and from moral theory to clinical medicine. My predecessor, Bette-Jane Crigger, sometimes referred to Report issues reflecting that array as "salads." The selection of articles and essays in this issue comprise one of those salads. At the same time, though, they reflect interests that I have underscored in both of the end-of-year editor's notes over the last couple of years—health policy and clinical decision-making. A couple of the columns focus on health policy concerns, in various ways. The articles are about clinical decision-making. The lead article, discussed in more detail on the opposite page, is about ethicists' involvement in clinical decision-making and what must be done to ensure that their involvement is of consistently high quality. A second article is about the perception and management of risk in medical interventions involving pregnant women. There is a "tendency," note the authors, "to unreflectively judge any risk to the fetus, however small or theoretical, to trump considerations that may be of substantial importance to the woman herself." (This article also brings attention specifically to clinical decision-making issues involving women—which some readers have asked for more of.) The essays in this issue combine the clinical decision-making and health policy interests: they are about health policy that could affect clinical decision-making. A set of five pieces collected and led off by our staff writer, Susan Gilbert, assesses the ins and outs of comparative effectiveness research—nationally coordinated research on whether medical treatments work as billed, how they compare, and what gives the best bang for the buck. That more evidence about medical effectiveness could be desirable seems beyond contest; Susan Gilbert discusses the social benefit and Pauline Chen the potential benefit for individual patients, and none of the authors in this set disputes that the evidence can be beneficial. Where concern arises is over how the evidence is used and how it is collected. As several of the essays note, more evidence can never mean exhaustive evidence. Richard Payne argues that this means room must always be left for clinicians to exercise judgment; their decisions cannot be flatly dictated by the evidence. Coauthors Nancy Berlinger and Anne Lederman Flamm argue that more evidence cannot replace the patient's perspective, and so room must also be left for the patient in the decision-making. Coauthors Harald Schmidt and Julia Kreis point out that because lots of people have a lot at stake in how the evidence is used, the process for collecting it and deciding what use to make of it must reflect stakeholders' perspectives appropriately. In a nutshell, comparative effectiveness research represents a drive toward standardization, and the concerns with it are concerns about standardization—about how standardization squares with the complexity of cases and the plurality of perspectives people bring to them. Five essays do not exhaust the topic. More are welcome. [End Page 2] Copyright © 2009 The Hastings Center

Salad Days in the Rhythms Trade

ONE of the nicest things anyone ever said about our work was in a (necessarily) anonymous grant review from the early 1990s in which the author commented that our lab had contributed greatly to moving the study of circadian rhythms “out of the era of spoon-bending.” Some years later Bob Metzenberg, who always cherished a well-turned phrase, fessed up to having written this, and it is easy to see his quick wit and word play. I mention it here because it nicely encapsulates the 25 years that I want to cover, a period that extends from the era when belief in intracellular circadian rhythms stretched the credibility of all but devotees to the years when the problem was cracked and rhythms truly entered mainstream science (Science News and Editorial Staffs 1997, 1998). During this time, analysis of rhythms moved from the use of genetics—which opened up the black box and exposed the feedback loops—to molecular biology, where the field is now. Although it is tempting to write about all the vistas that opened up during this time based on work in Neurospora, from clock mechanism to clock output, I have restricted this Perspectives to studies on the circadian mechanism and will leave output to other, highly capable hands (Loros 2008). It is an account of what drew me to rhythms work and to the Neurospora circadian system and of what led our lab to identify the factors and interactions that contributed to the denouement of the question of the molecular bases of circadian rhythms: the assembly, a little over a decade ago, of a complete interconnected regulatory cycle.

The Cambridge Companion to John Henry Newman (review)

The Cambridge Companion to Raphael. Edited by Marcia B. Hall. (New York: Cambridge University Press. 2005. Pp. xv, 416; 39 plates. $95.00.) The recent exhibition held at the National GaEery London, Raphael: From Urbino to Rome, demonstrated that the artist continues to be attacked and defended within an essentially nineteenth-century intellectual framework. Remarkably, Raphael is still being framed alternatively as an academic pedant and enemy of modernism or a triumphal genius so singular as to render the investigation of broad, fundamental issues superfluous. The Cambridge Companion to Raphael is very much the product of the latter school, and its overaE purpose is to refine and update a range of topics on which there already exists a massive scholarly literature: Raphael's early formation and patronage, his dazzling Roman career, his workshop and drawing practices, his role as a stylistic exemplar, and his critical fortunes from the seventeenth to the nineteenth century. To readers from outside the discipline of art history or new to the study of Raphael, the volume's emphasis on summarizing and restating recent secondary literature may serve as a useful starting point. However, for those seeking a major reassessment of this pivotal but also elusive Renaissance painter, archaeologist, and architect, this collection of essays is a disappointment. The opening essays byjeryldene Wood and Sheryl Reiss offer two accounts of the artist's training and early career in Urbino. Both stress the significance of Raphael's father, Giovanni Santi, and his contacts at the Montefeltro court for establishing the young artist once he emerged from Perugino's workshop. Wood advances the counter-intuitive claim that the youthful Raphael's sweet, undemanding style appealed to his first patrons, particularly female religious, precisely because of its stylistic conservatism. Perugino's thriving practice, his harmonious workshop, and his eventual rejection in the urban crucible of Florence all had a formative impact on Raphael. Through detailed stylistic analysis of the early altarpieces, Wood demonstrates just how profoundly Perugino shaped the young Raphael, making the artist's subsequent ability to throw off that influence and rethink his professional practices in response to intensively shifting demands appear all the more remarkable. Reiss provides a comprehensive list in prose form of Raphael's early commissions, including his very first Roman patrons. While Urbino formed this promising maker of Madonnas, there is no question that Rome made Raphael. Linda Pellecchia provides a wide-ranging introduction to the urban fabric of a city rapidly transforming from the stench and chaos of the late fifteenth century to the wide streets and stately palaces envisioned and in some cases executed under the popes Julius II and Leo X, as well as Raphael's great patron, the banker Agostino Chigi. Here Raphael rose from his salad days to the princely velvet-clad figure promoted byVasari; surrounded by his own large shop, coleague to intellectuals and humanists, beloved by popes and cardinals, and ardent admirer of female beauty in the abstract and in the concrete. Vasari's is a mythic image to be sure but one that vividly conveys Raphael's supreme contributions to the elevation of the artist's social status from artisan rooted in workshop practice to high-flying intellectual free agent. …

SHRINKING SALES FOR U.S. PHARMA FIRMS

THE U.S. PHARMACEUTICAL INdustry in 2005 continued its retreat from the salad days of double-digit sales and earnings growth. Changing dynamics in the cholesterol market have been both boon and bust, depending on the company, and will continue to have a strong impact on the health of the industry in 2006. Though several drug firms showed signs of a turnaround in the fourth quarter, a slowdown at Pfizer was a drag on the forward momentum of the U.S. drug industry. Overall sales for the nine U.S. companies surveyed by C&EN declined by 1.5% in the quarter, compared with the same quarter in 2004, although they were up by a modest 3.4% for the year. Combined earnings were off 1.9% in the quarter and up a meager 0.4% for the year. The fourth-quarter profit margin was essentially unchanged at 20.5%. For the full year, it declined slightly to 21.5%, compared with 22.1% in 2004. European drug ...

Terence Malley (1937-2004)

Shortly after every issue of NINE was published, Terry Malley would send me a handwritten, often highly critical, capsulated article-by-article review of the issue's contents. Terry, a self-admitted recluse and fervent Mets fan, was a valued member of the editorial board of NINE. I will miss his assistance as a critical reader of manuscripts submitted to this journal and his role as a devoted correspondent discussing the joys and woes of the game. Bill Kirwin Terence Malley could be at times cold, cutting, and critical. He cultivated, I contend, a curmudgeon's persona as a distancing mechanism. Once the facade dissolved, however, one discovered the true Terry: caring, kind, courtly, and considerate. A bundle of contradictions, Professor Malley and I crossed career paths at Long Island University as "fellow travelers"—he as neophyte English instructor, and I, a rookie lecturer in history. We discovered common ground: radical politics and a passion for sports, especially baseball. Readers of NINE could certainly appreciate Terry Malley's mastery of our national pastime reflected in his sundry contributions laced with wit as well as wisdom. Perhaps they also know of Terry's early career as a gritty catcher with a rifle for an arm and a keen eye at the plate on the sandlots of Brooklyn. Few, however, are aware of Malley's skills in basketball, which netted him an athletic scholarship that brought him to Maine's Bates College. Homesick for his beloved Brooklyn, the youthful Terry returned as a transfer student to LIU. Former mentor and longtime colleague Robert Spector hectored, browbeat, and ultimately tamed the young lion, compelling him to devour whole books in a single, all-night session. Terry resented Professor Spector's snide references to him as a jock. By sheer will to empowerment, Malley became a scholar as well. [End Page v] A fine writer, Terry produced a brilliant book on author Richard Brautigan. Advised to submit the same as a doctoral dissertation, he refused on the grounds, highly ethical and not a little self-denigrating, that it was not appropriately designed to obtain a PhD. To be sure, Terry fashioned many pithy reviews and insightful articles for various journals, but he never produced another oeuvre. He certainly possessed the "right stuff" for literary success. An extreme penchant for perfection, I believe, precluded additional books. Stubborn to a fault, Terry refused to collaborate with Joram Warmund and this writer in our labor of love—Jackie Robinson: Race, Sports, and the American Dream—claiming that "it was crap." Later, he happily altered his imperious judgment and actually developed a fondness for the volume. After all, Terence Malley had played a pivotal role in the successful conference, April 3-5, 1997, that gave rise to our book. He read every essay from potential and actual participants, helping us to create a conference and fashion a collection of historical significance. In spite of his self-deprecatory disclaimers, Terry deserved an MVP. After his retirement from LIU several seasons past, fearing premature death in the wake of male members in his immediate family, Terry moved to Tacoma, Washington, so that his beloved wife, Kathy, would be near her sister. Proving Thomas Wolfe's assertion "You can't go home again" incorrect, Terry returned to New York City every summer to visit his secular shrine, Shea Stadium, to cheer for his favorite nine, the roller-coaster Mets, just as he had rooted fervently during his salad days for the Brooklyn Dodgers at Ebbets Field, alova sholem (rest in peace). In this summer of our discontent with Bush and his mindless minions in Red Barber's "Catbird Seat," we need Terry more than ever. No designated hitter, which he abhorred, will suffice. To echo a song from our tragic Civil War: "We shall meet but we shall miss him. There will be one vacant chair."

S-nitrosylation: physiological regulation of NF-kappaB.

Aspate of recent discoveries indicates that the study of protein S-nitrosylation is rapidly leaving its salad days behind. S-nitrosylation, the formation of S -nitrosothiol (SNO) by covalent addition to cysteine (Cys) residues of a nitric oxide (NO) moiety (formally as NO+), has been shown to regulate in intact cells the function of a broad spectrum of proteins (1). Important recent findings include demonstrations of major roles for S-nitrosylation in vesicle-mediated insulin release (2), in protein processing associated with the neurodegeneration of Parkinson's disease (3), and in the essential mechanisms of vectorial membrane trafficking (4). In this issue of PNAS, Reynaert et al. (5) lend a hand in the unveiling of S-nitrosylation as it operates in cellular context by elucidating a role in regulating NF-κB. NF-κB denotes a ubiquitous family of transcription factors that transduce a wide range of noxious or inflammatory stimuli into the coordinated activation of multiple genes, including those coding for cytokines, cytokine receptors, adhesion molecules, and antiapoptotic proteins (6). NF-κB thus serves as a critical element in immune and inflammatory responses and in cell survival and proliferation, with central roles in host defense and in acute and chronic disorders of immune function. NF-κB can upregulate the expression of all major NO synthases (nNOS, iNOS, and eNOS). It is well established that NF-κB is complexed with and sequestered in the cytoplasm by inhibitory IκB (inhibitor of NF-κB) proteins and that many activating stimuli induce phosphorylation of IκB by the IκB-kinase complex (IKKα, IKKβ, and IKKγ), initiate IκB ubiquitinylation and degradation by means of the 26S proteasome, and allow translocation of NF-κB to the nucleus (6). The molecular cascades that run through NF-κB present multiple loci at which oxidative/nitrosative modification could potentially modulate signal transduction, but the role of NF-κB and its attendant proteins in physiological redox responsivity …

In my salad days with Israeli people

In my salad days with Israeli people