Bloggfrslur mnaarins, nvember 2020

tgngubann - Sttvarnarlg slandi og hryjuverkalg Bretlandi

a mun n hafa veri dreift lagafrumvarpi Alingi sem felur m.a. sr a tgngubann veri eitt a v sem yfirvld hrna geta gripi til sem sttvarnarrstfun. a er eiginlega mgulegt a sj fyrir sr astur slandi ar sem tgngubann skiptir mli. Hr er ekki miki ttbli og veurastur gera a a verkum a fir eru ferli almannafri strstan hluta rsins.

Yfirvld hrna hafa gripi til missa ra, m.a. a fyrirskipa loku missa stofnana og takmarka ferir flks t.d. til a koma veg fyrir a smit dreifist.

En tgngubann er grarlega mikil frelsisskering og af allt rum toga en tlmanir v hvert mtt fara og hvaa jnustu mtt kaupa. a er engin sta til a setja hr tgngubann og a verur ekki liti a ruvsi en sem run tt a lgreglurki ar sem einhverjir geta vakta allar ferir nar ef svo stendur .

Einhverjir munu halda v fram a a s svona ngrannalndum Evrpu og a s ekki meiningin a beita essum lgum nema "brna nausyn beri til" og a s stthtta. essum rkum vil g svara annig a a er ekki sjlfkrafa gott og rtt ef a er gert lndum umhverfis ea a s alsia einhvers staar annars staar. a geri ekki hrilegan kasnkaptalisma fjrglframanna og aflandseyjalis hr runum fyrir Hrun neitt betri a segja a etta s alsia viskiptalfi hins vestrna heims. a er heldur ekki rksemd fyrir a hafa vopnaan her hr landi a a s her ngrannalndunum.

Hin rksemdin a tgngubann veri aeins beitt sttvarnartilgangi er jafn bernsk og flk Bretlandi hefi haldi fram a egar ingi ar setti lg gegn hryjuverkamnnum, lg sem ttu a sporna gegn v a hryjuverkamenn gtu fjrmagna iju sna yri eim lgum aeins beint gegn hryjuverkamnnum og hryjuverkasamtkum.

Bresk yfirvld beittu essum hryjuverkalgum snum gegn slendingum ri 2008, gegn frisamri smj og vinaj.

a ttu allir a muna a bresk stjrnvld gripu til laga sem tlu voru til a sporna vi hryjuverkjum egar au frystu eigur slenskra banka Bretlandi og a fr sta ar landi stjrnmlalegur spuni sem olli mis konar ofsknum slendinga sem og a lama algjrlega smj me ofvaxi fjrmlakerfi sem hafi hruni. mnum huga er essi gjr breskra stjrnvalda a hrilegasta sem gerist tmum Hrunsins og essi gjr breytti afstu minni til laga og stjrnmla um aldur og vi. Lka afstu minni til strveldis og nlenduveldis fjrbrotum, eina landinu sem hefur nokkurn tma fari me fri hendur slendingum, sendi fyrst hinga spukaupmann mislukkaa innrs, rst svo inn landi strrunum og var svo me margra ra fri til a tryggja fiskiskipum snum framhaldandi rnyrkju vi slandsstrendur og svo essi hryjuverkaager ri 2008 til a reyna a hilma yfir a eirra fjrmlakerfi var a falla og frjlshyggjumndrur Thatcherismans virkuu ekki og blekktu ekki lengur.

Rv rifjai 9.10.2013 a voru liin fimm r fr beitingu Hryjuverkalaganna:

Fimm r eru dag fr v Gordon Brown, verandi forstisrherra Bretlands, gagnrndi slensk stjrnvld harlega sjnvarpsvitali. Daginn ur voru hryjuverkalg notu til a frysta eignir slenskra banka Bretlandi. Breskur hagfringur segir a frekar hefi tt a hjlpa vinaj.

Brown sagi vitali vi Sky News a lagabeitingin vri rttmt. Gta yri hagsmuna innstueigenda Bretlandi egar f vri a hverfa r slensku bnkunum. „g tel eim bera skylda til a standa vi skuldbindingar gagnvart breskum egnum sem hafa fjrfest slenskum bnkum,“ sagi Brown.

Breski hagfringurinn Eamon Butler er framkvmdastjri Adam Smith hugveitunnar. Hann segir a Bretar hefu tt a hjlpa vinaj en ekki rast hana. „Rkisstjrn Browns horfi banka hrynja allt umhverfis og stjrn hans urfti a koma bnkum og rum fyrirtkjum til bjargar. eir hfu ekki hugmynd um til hvaa ras skyldi gripi. Svo vibrgin uru svona. eir voru sem smdr fanga ljsum hraskreirar bifreiar,“ segir Butler.

Butler tti sjlfur f Icesave reikningi. „g urfti a standa skil skttum eftir hlft r svo g skoai innlnsvexti og Icesave bau betur. g hugsai sem svo a etta vri lyginni lkast og hringdi slenskan vin minn og spuri hvort essi banki vri lagi. Hann sagi svo vera; a frndi hans stjrnai honum en g taldi lklegt a hann fri hausinn nstu sex mnuum svo g lagi f mitt inn og vejai ar me hann.“

FImm og hlfum mnui sar fr bankinn hausinn og Butler taldi f glata. „En Alistair Darling fjrmlarherra skrifai vsun fyrir allri upphinni auk fullrar vxtunar sem g hefi fengi hefi bankinn ekki fari hausinn. Og a eru breskir skattgreiendur sem borga. Af hverju skyldi byggingaverkamaur Bradford borga hrri skatta til a bjarga nunga eins og mr sem mevita vejai a essi banki starfai fram?“


mbl.is Kvei um tgngubann nju frumvarpi
Tilkynna um vieigandi tengingu vi frtt

Hver borar minka og hesta?

norsk-minkabu

Sj r eru langur tmi shvikulum heimi, heimi semn umhverfis kringumeina rsma veiru sem fyrir ri san stakk sr upp matarmarkai Kna og dreifist aan um heiminn. En fyrir sj rum horfu nokkrir slenskiringmenn bjartsnir inn framtina. eirriframtarsn birtisteim heimur fullur af kjti og heimur fullur af flki sem vildi ta kjt.

essum ingmannahpisem gekk samstga einum stjrnmlaflokki voru tveir nverandi formenn slenskra stjrnmlaflokka og tveir nverandi rherrar rkisstjrn slands. eir bru framtarsnina um kjti bor fyrir Alingi ingslyktunartillgu um aukna matvlaframleislu slandi (lagt fram ri 2013) og hvarvetna blasti vi eim sknarfri fyrir slenskan landbna og endar s listi me essum bjartsnisorum:


"hugi msum rum kjtafurum hefur vaxi erlendis og ar m nefna aukinn tflutning hrossakjti og mgulegan huga Knverja v a kaupa slenskt minkakjt til manneldis."

N sj rum seinna velti g fyrir mr hvernig gengur a flytja t hrossakjt og hvert umfang ess s og hverjir kaupendur eru. Og hvort minkakjt s selt til Kna til manneldis.

g velti fyrir mr hva verur um lkama hesta og minka egar drin eru deydd. Hva verur um reihesta sem flk egar eir eru httir a jna eim tilgangi? Eru eir sendir slturhs ea eru eir settir st?

Hva verur um lkama minka sem er sltra?


Myndin fr Otwarte Klatkier me CC-By leyfi r norsku minkabi 2013


Blmerahald slandi - frsgn sjnarvotts

Icelandic_Horses

slandi voru ri 2019 yfir 5000 blmerar vegum lilega 100 aila. Undanfarin r hefur blmerahaldi veri hampa sem lftkni og nskpun og njum og vaxandi sprota slenskum landbnai og ungum bndum veri srstaklega bent essa batasmu iju. Svo viurkennt er blmerahald slandi a einn stjrnmlaflokkur slandi hefur a meira segja sem srstaka landbnaarstefnu a auka blmerahald.

En hva er blmeri og hva er blmerahald? Blmeri er hryssa sem gengur me folald og mean megngutma folaldsins stendur er vikulega sogi r henni bl, allt a fimm ltrar hvert skipti. a er gert nokkrar vikur (5-7 vikur a g held). etta bl er nota til a ba til hormn og a hormn er aallega nota auleldi svna til a hgt s a fara fram hj nttrulegu ferli, v er sprauta gyltur til a r hafi egglos aftur fyrr svo r geti eignast fljtar aftur grsi og veri slttar.

Eftir v sem g best veit fer engin framleisla essu hormni fram Evrpu nema slandi og er ll ija essu tengd illa okku bi t af v a flki blskrar a a s sogi bl r unguu kvendri af einni tegund og gengi annig ann fora sem nttran tlar mur og ungvii hennar murkvii og hins vegar a essi bltaka s ger til ess eins og vihalda auleldi meara drategundsem eru eingngu rktu til kjtframleislu.

En essi blbskaparija er einnig illrmd vegna fregna af v hvernig stai er a essari framleislu Suur-Amerku en ar er gengi afar, afar nrri hryssunum og r nnast bltmdar, teknir tu ltrar hvert skipti og hryssum og folldum svo hent t urra skga. slandi er blmerahald mun betra horfi og a er dralknir vegum ailans sem kaupir bli og vinnur a sem tekur bl r fylfullu hryssunum. En a virist lti eftirlit vera me essum blbskap og ltlar heimildir um hvernig stai er a essu.

g fann reyndar eina afar tarlega frsgn manns sem hafi veri slenskum sveitab me hrossabskap sem launaur sjlfboalii, sem matvinningur og g leyfi mr a setja hr inn lti brot af langri frsgn hans um hvernig essi bskapur kom honum fyrir sjnir

Greinin sem g grp niur heitir Horse Blood, Fertility Drugs, and Me (Part 2)og er undirfyrirsgnin "A First-Hand Account of Violence in Iceland" og hfundur Ali Shearman. Greinin virist lsa atburum fr 2017 ea 2018. Frsgnin er rjr langar greinar og etta brot lsir v egar sjlfboaliarnir/ matvinnungarnir eru bnir a vera a vinna vi a reka hryssur inn til bltku allan daginn og blbndinn (kona sem kllu er Agatha frsgninni, ekki rtt nafn) segir a n s dralknirinn kominn. etta brot r greininni endar me v a fjrar fylfullar hryssur sem streittust mti egar tti a taka eim bl eru settar bl til a fara me r slturhsi:

“So what happens next?” I asked, a little unsure of what we had actually accomplished thus far.
“The vet comes.” The farmer replied.
“What does he do?”
“He draws the blood.” I was confused…wasn’t that what we’d been doing for hours?
A beat-up, white pickup pulled up to the field and parked. An unsmiling man in a ratty t-shirt dotted with blood galumphed toward us. The farmer unloaded from his car an open-topped metal box with two large plastic jugs inside. A very brief conversation in Icelandic took place, and we were back to work.
The horse in the enclosure was much more nervous than the mares who were there before lunch. She kicked the ground and snorted almost continuously. The vet’s presence was changing the mood. The farmer rigged the enclosure with a series of ropes, which he quickly maneuvered around the horse’s head. He pulled down hard, causing her face to twist and look up, exposing her neck.

The vet had a much bigger needle than the farmer. It was roughly the thickness of a drinking straw and was connected to a tube that fed into the plastic jugs from the metal boxes.
He stuck the mare in the neck and the tube was no longer clear. The farmer held the rope taut so the horse wouldn’t move. Her eyes rolled back in her head, and she stood perfectly still as the jug filled with her blood.
“How much blood are you taking?” I asked the farmer.
“Five liters,” he answered without taking his eyes off the horse he was restraining.
“Is she sick?”
“She’s pregnant.”
I looked at the mare and all the others in the pen behind her. Most of them did have extremely massive stomachs, unlike most horses I’d seen before that. One belly was completely lopsided as if the unborn foal was resting perpendicular to his mother — feet kicked out straight in front of him.
The next few hours were spent draining five liters of blood from the remaining pregnant mares. It did not go smoothly. The nearly wild horses were not happy to give up their blood, and several of them fought tooth and hoof to prevent that from happening.
One horse stands out in my mind, she was red with E45 stamped on the ridge of her back. As the pen grew less crowded, she was less afraid of the people who tried to corral her. Or possibly she grew more unstable with her mounting anxiety.
When the time came to get her in the chute, she fearlessly ran at Leslie, challenging her to a game of chicken. Several of us climbed into the pen to guide the horse, but she continued to run at us, pushing through the narrow spaces between our bodies.
Since we didn’t want to be trampled, we let her pass. Agatha stood outside of the pen, one pudgy leg resting on the metal bars as she watched.
“Idiots,” she spoke loud enough for everyone to hear. Then brayed, “you have to get angry with her! Scream at the bitch!” We ignored her. Instead we made a wall by linking arms, and E45 finally went where we wanted her.
“I’m going to eat that bitch. She’s pure evil.” Agatha’s face was twisted in an expression that can only be described as menacing.
“Eat her?” Derek dared ask.
“She’s going to the slaughterhouse, that one. I’ll have her for dinner.” She licked her lips in an exaggerated fashion. The whites of her eyes were clearly visible.
“You actually eat horses here?” I chimed in.
“Of course!” She snarled, “You’ve never eaten horse?”
“No, it’s illegal in the US.” I turned my attention back to E45.
She was standing at the back of the chute, pressing her backside pressed against the two boards Shaun and Derek managed to block her with. The wood was about an inch and a half thick, yet it bent under her efforts. The dirt slid from beneath her hooves, but the underlying concrete gave her firm ground to push against.
Image for post

“Come on, move forward,” I patted her backside. She ignored me, continuing to fight.
The farmer grabbed his stick and approached. He whacked her on the butt and hollered in her face. She thrashed and sprinted the ten feet into the enclosure. We fumbled to block her in with the metal pole and several slats of wood.
The farmer tried to wrap the rope around her head, so the vet could stick her, but she immediately started banging her head against the poles when he reached in. She slammed her skull around the enclosure like a pinball in an arcade game. Derek grabbed me as we watched in horror.
She was biting the air and stomping her feet. She kicked the door of the enclosure repeatedly. When she paused for a brief moment to see if anyone was trying to restrain her, the vet reached forward and slapped her across the face.
E45 reared back and hooked her front legs on top of the enclosure’s door. She thrashed more, jumping and kicking. She high-centered herself on the door but flailed until her weight shifted forward. Once her feet touched the ground, she twisted violently until she freed her back legs from the enclosure. She ran wildly into the field, whinnying loudly and riling up the horses she passed.
I was shocked she could still run. It looked like she would have broken bones and caused severe head damage the way she slammed herself into the metal bars.
Her particular brand of rebellion inspired three of the remaining horses to escape blood withdrawal in the same violent fashion. Each time was equally as scary, but the WorkAwayers seemed to be the only ones who cared if the escaped horses were okay. The locals cursed at them and noted which ones were going to the slaughterhouse.
“You’re going to slaughter a pregnant mare?” I finally asked, though I didn’t really want to know the answer.
“We can’t use that offspring. It’d be just as crazy.”
The farmer and the vet finished drawing blood while the rest of us caught five horses who wouldn’t be returning to the field with the others. One was the stallion. He was due in another field to impregnate another herd of mares. The other four were the escaped, “crazy” mares. We loaded them into the trailer with the most unfortunate destination for a horse.

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