Poor Mojo's Newswire

California health officials are warning consumers, especially children and pregnant women, not to eat Red Vines black licorice twists after discovering that the candy contains levels of lead that exceed state standards, according to the California Department of Public Health. Red Vines candy was recalled when candy packages marked with the expiration date 02/04/13 were found to contain up to 13.2 micrograms of lead per serving, according to the California Department of Public Health. Any consumers in possession of the candy should dispose of it immediately.

The USDA has closed the slaughterhouse at Central Valley Meat Corporation in Fresno, California after evidence surfaced showing inhumane and illegal treatment of animals on the killing floor. A video distributed by the animal advocacy group Compassion Over Killing depicted utterly horrific treatment of animals that — aside from the obvious problems with the casual torture of a sentient being — likely runs afoul of state and federal humane slaughter laws, including protections designed to prevent meat from sick cows entering the food supply: Four minutes of excerpts the animal welfare group provided to The Associated Press showed cows being prepared for slaughter. One worker appears to be suffocating a cow by standing on its muzzle after a gun that injects a bolt into the animal’s head had failed to render it unconscious. In another clip, a cow is still conscious and flailing as a conveyor lifts it by one leg for transport to an area where the animals’ throats are slit for blood draining… The USDA probe will include whether sick “downer” cows entered the food supply. That information would be used to determine whether a recall of the company’s meat products is warranted. “That’s the main issue right now,” DeJong said. Just because a cow is down doesn’t mean it’s sick, officials said. The video clips showed some cows with udders swollen so large they could not keep their legs underneath them. One was on the ground twitching, and another tried to walk but kept falling.

Ever since I was a kid I dreamed of joining the Army. So as soon as I could, I went down to my local recruiter and enlisted, knowing full well that I'd probably be sent to Afghanistan. Now, with my first deployment less than a week away, there's only one thing on my mind: how incredibly proud I'll be to fight for my country, experience crippling psychological trauma, wait indefinitely for the proper health care, and then eventually become so depressed and mentally ill that I commit suicide. It's what I've always known I was born to do. It's a matter of principle, really. From a young age I was taught that throughout our history, Americans have had to stand up and fight for the freedoms we enjoy. I always knew that when the time came, I would serve with honor and nobly suffer from post-traumatic stress disorder until my only recourse was to end my own life. So it's with eager anticipation that I head off to the battlefield to defend, be ignored by, and then—left all alone, with my personal demons closing in—kill myself for the land I love so dearly. Honestly, it would be my distinct pleasure and privilege to not get the medical help I need for injuries suffered while risking my life for my country. That's why we take the oath, isn't it? To do our jobs with humility and valor, and to come home haunted by visions of our commanding officer, who promised he'd bring everyone back alive, being blown to bits by a cleverly disguised roadside bomb? In my mind it doesn't matter what unspeakable horrors I witness, I'll just be grateful for the privilege of having to wait at least six months to see a VA psychologist and in the interim turn toward alcoholism and drug addiction until I decide the only path to relief is putting a bullet in my head. . . .