Embarking on a Sweaty Journey of Discovery

UPDATE: As of June 21, 2024, I just completed one full year of daily sauna sessions. I only missed two(2) days I believe. Maybe a third. One of those days they were closed(Christmas).

Just over three months ago, I embarked on a thrilling voyage—one that would push the boundaries of conventional health wisdom. For 110 days, without fail, I surrendered myself to the soothing embrace of a dry sauna, basking in its warmth for 30 minutes each day. It was more than just a regimen; it was a daily ritual that has rejuvenated my soul and appears to be reshaping my body.

In this process, I feel as though I am transforming into something akin to a sweat maestro. My body is singing out with joy, celebrating its innate capacity to perspire, chuckling at the sheer intensity of it all!

What I’ve unearthed through this endeavor could very well be the long-lost key to optimal health, overlooked by many health enthusiasts. It feels as though my body is undergoing a profound architectural metamorphosis. It’s as if my entire system is recalibrating, reopening old, long-forgotten pathways for detoxification and hydration that have lain dormant in our mad dash toward innovation and the future.

Imagine a sponge—every pore, every fiber, every crevice—soaked, then wrung out, refreshed, and ready to absorb cleansing hydration anew. Now, visualize our skin in the same way—a meticulously designed system that has evolved over countless millennia to filter, purify, and balance our internal fluids.

Yet, as we glance back at history, the Industrial Revolution brought with it not just technological marvels but also a seismic shift in our natural environments and the ways we work, live, and interact. The conveniences of automation, refrigeration, and modern climate control, while groundbreaking, may have inadvertently nudged us away from our body’s evolutionary path.

Could it be that our meteoric rise in technology has raced ahead of our body’s ability to acclimatize? That through our quest for advancement, we’ve inadvertently steeped ourselves in a sea of toxins and waste that our bodies now struggle to eliminate in a manner that they didn’t before?

Every morning, as I sip on my elixir, pure, clean water, I feel the hydration literally coursing through me, rejuvenating every cell, every pore. There’s a palpable joy, a tingling euphoria, a sparkling, if you will, that envelops me, reminding me of the wonders of the human body and its boundless potential.

I challenge you to join with me on this journey of rediscovery. Dive headfirst into the healing power of sweat, and together, we can celebrate this daily euphoria of truly living in tune with nature and our bodies!

Ever Catch a Hangover?

I am going to bet your answer is probably a firm and confident no, followed by a derisive chuckle. And I wouldn’t blame you one bit. The idea of catching a hangover from a friend who had too much to drink the night before would be silly. Ridiculous even.

Have you ever caught a hangover from a bartender? No? Why not? Isn’t he/she the individual you spent all night with before you felt hungover the next day?

For an individual to experience a hangover, they have to partake in the causative action prior to the physical phenomenon we call a hangover. Indulgent self-administration of a substance that the human body considers a toxin. Clearly, no amount of time spent in the presence of a bartender or other people who are drinking too much will ever produce a hangover. And for those of you who are unaware, there is actually a very good explanation for what is happening within the human body after a hard night of drinking. It’s called a Jarisch–Herxheimer reaction, often just called “Herx.”

Can a body of water catch a whirlpool from an adjacent, separate body of water? No. That is because a whirlpool can only be created if all the right conditions are met within the body of water coupled with another force already connected to that body of water acting upon it from an upstream, directly connected source. In like manner, a human body cannot experience a hangover if alcohol never makes its way into its bloodstream. And alcohol cannot make it into the bloodstream unless one first puts it into their small intestine through their mouth. Their upstream self-administered source.

Now, let us look at this from a comedic point of view.

“Alright folks, gather ’round for the most shocking revelation of the century. Ever heard of catching a hangover? Yup, you heard me right. Like, “Oh no! My roommates Tommy and Timmy drank too much last night, and this morning, I woke up with a hangover!” Sounds pretty ridiculous, right? It’s almost as ludicrous as blaming your chocolate cravings on your girlfriend, who ate a whole box of truffles earlier in the week. “Why do I feel like eating chocolate all of a sudden? Oh, right, my girlfriend Jenny ate too much chocolate Monday night, and here, a couple of days later, I have a craving for chocolate!”

Here’s another zinger: Have you ever caught a hangover from an unmasked bartender? I mean, if we’re on this wacky theory train, why not? You spend hours with them, in close proximity, chatting, getting drinks, and breathing the same stale air. If we can “catch” colds, why not a hangover? Maybe bartenders have this mystical super-spreader power where they can transfer all the hangover germs through proximity in a close-quarter environment. Kinda like reverse osmosis, but for regrets and bottomless mimosas at Sunday brunch!

Now, for those of you who want to be in the know, it turns out the real deal with hangovers has a super fancy name: Jarisch-Herxheimer reaction. Or as I like to call it, ‘Oops-I-drank-too-much-last-night-and-now-my-head-feels-like-a-bowling-ball’ reaction. And no, you can’t blame your unmasked bartender, your roommates, or your drinking buddies for that bowling ball in your head. You’ve got to give credit where credit is due, and the answer is you. So the next time you wake up after a night of “fun,” thinking, “Why does everything hurt?” remember the good ol’ ‘Herx’ and maybe…drink a glass of water next time, or two, or five.” Or maybe, just don’t drink at all.

“Well, folks, we’ve had our fun with hangovers, but let’s now dive into the biggest myth-buster yet. Have you ever heard that you can catch an illness from someone else? Of course, you have. Have you heard that you can catch wellness from someone else? Of course, you haven’t. Why not? Well, just like you can’t catch that hangover from Bob, who can’t handle his tequila, you can’t catch wellness from your eternally healthy vegan yoga-instructing girlfriend. Stick with me on this wild ride.

“Let’s take this comedic conspiracy train even further, shall we? Next stop: the land of wild theories and, dare I say, ‘inner space.’

Ever think that what we call a ‘virus’ is actually just a little inner roommate we’ve had all along? Picture this: Literally trillions of tiny little “health-improvers” lounging inside of us, sipping on miniature cocktails, just waiting for Mother Nature’s signal to get to work. You could say we all come with our own little internal construction crew, ready to renovate! Or firefighters waiting at their respective stations, ready and waiting to go put out a self-imposed fire that needs putting out.

Now imagine if Mother Nature had a big red button labeled ‘Species Improvement Day.’ Every once in a while, when she thinks, “Hmm, these processed food eating dirtybird humans could use a little shakeup,” she hits that button. BOOM! Suddenly, everyone’s inner crews are awakened from their slumber. “Alright, lads, it’s go time! Let’s make these humans stronger, better, faster!”

It’s like a built-in upgrade system, but instead of getting the newest software version for your phone, you’re getting the latest version of YOU. Sure, the upgrade process might be a bit uncomfortable, with some sniffles and coughs, but hey, you can’t make an omelet without breaking a few eggs, right?

After the ‘upgrade,’ humans, as a tribe, come out the other side better suited for the world in their global community, while Mother Nature nods approvingly, thinking, “Job well done.” Sort of a natural herd immunity boot camp led by the drill sergeant we call Mother Nature. Guess what? There is an answer for that, and it is a part of human evolution. Stay with me now and keep reading.

Ever catch yourself yawning right after seeing someone else yawn? Ever thought, ‘Hey, maybe it’s a yawn virus? Or a contagious case of the sleepies?’ Well, don’t worry, it’s not some rare disease or a secret plot by sleep-deprived zombies trying to recruit more members. It’s just your fancy-schmancy mirror neurons!

Now, before you think you have tiny mirrors in your brain reflecting yawns and other shenanigans, that’s not quite what’s happening. Mirror neurons are like the ultimate copycats in your brain. See someone do something? BOOM! These little rascals make you feel like doing it too.

But wait, there’s more! Have you ever been in that awkward situation where one person in the room, maybe Timmy from 5th grade, suddenly feels sick and – oh no – you feel like hurling too? Yup, you can thank (or maybe blame) your mirror neurons for making you join in the ‘puke parade.’ It’s like they shout, ‘Hey, Timmy’s doing it, so it must be the cool thing right now!’ Spoiler alert: It’s not.

So why on Earth would Mother Nature give us these copycat neurons? Well, back in the day, these nifty neurons helped our ancestors learn from each other without having to invent the wheel (or fire) every single time. It’s kind of like when you copy your friend’s dance moves at a party – saves time and energy, and you get to look (somewhat) cool too!

But here’s the thing: while they might make us yawn or cringe in unison, these mirror neurons are also behind some cool stuff. Like empathy! Have you ever felt sad when you see someone crying or happy when someone’s laughing? That’s your mirror neurons helping you feel what others feel.

So, the next time you catch a yawn or feel like joining the ‘vomit volcano’ after seeing someone else lose their lunch, remember – it’s not a virus. It’s just your brain’s ancient way of saying, ‘I see you, and I feel you… sometimes a bit too much!'” Oh, and one more thing about humans and it’s found in how we used to live. Not really the modern way we do today. Please keep reading.

“Okay, so let’s wind back the clock, wayyy before TikTok, Fortnite, and even before WiFi was a thing (yes, that ancient!). I’m talking about the time before the Industrial Revolution. You know, that phase in history class where everyone’s wearing funny hats, and there isn’t a single smartphone in sight.

Now, I get it. We often think of our ancestors as these burly, hardcore individualists, facing the wild with a spear in one hand and a determined look on their face, like some sort of caveman superhero. But surprise! They weren’t solo artists; they were part of the OG ‘squad goals.’ Yep, they lived in tribes.

Imagine this: Your entire neighborhood gets together not just for a summer BBQ, but for, well, everything! Need to build a house? The tribe’s got your back. Hunting for food? The tribe’s on it. Want to throw a dance party under the moonlight? The tribe is breaking out the drums. It’s like living in a never-ending group chat, but in real life!

Think of tribes as the ancient version of group projects at school, except instead of making posters about photosynthesis, they’re trying to survive and thrive. And unlike some of your group projects, everyone actually did their part (looking at you, Jimmy from 6th grade!).

It’s easy to romanticize and think, ‘Aww, everything was simpler back then,’ but let’s be real: they also didn’t have Netflix, pizza delivery, or memes. But they did have one thing – a tight-knit community where everyone relied on each other.

So, the next time you think you’re super independent because you made instant noodles all by yourself, remember our ancestors. They were out there, building huts, hunting mammoths, and making history… all in the company of their tribe. It’s kind of like a sleepover, just with more spears and fewer pizza rolls!”

So, do we catch a cold or contract a virus? Do contagions exist? Yes and no. Are they demons or little invisible pieces of DNA/RNA passed from one creature to the next? Modern science would suggest such a route, but what if it were something simpler than that? What if it were a built-in evolutionary byproduct of humans living in tribes, adapting over tens of thousands of years, learning not from books but by direct influence, and living a life comfortably couched in a tribe?

Earth’s Industrial Revolution may have brought us great inventions of technology and helped us improve overall human mortality, but the human species, as a whole, has not had enough time to adapt and evolve as fast as our technology has, and we are suffering because of it. Novel ideas like germ theory are great, but ideas well demonstrated at an evolutionary scale over tens of thousands of years are probably a better way of understanding how the world works.

A Tainted Feast

“If this body should ever be destroyed, it will be by desire; by the lust for the flesh of this strange and nearly cannibalistic tainted feast.”

As the calendar flipped to 2025, a slow-burning horror began to unfold across the world. In a small, dim-lit lab, Dr. Samuel Jennings, a reputable physiologist and disease pathologist, chanced upon an insidious truth—one that would challenge traditions, topple industries, and reshape societal norms.

Samuel’s journey into this abyss began with personal pain as his father’s life was almost extinguished in 2023. His father, frail at 80, had been given a renewed lease of life on a cold operating table with a porcine tissue heart valve. A miracle, it seemed. But in a strange twist of fate, the surgeon, a close friend and esteemed colleague of Samuel, whispered a strange fact over a shared bottle of scotch one early October evening. “The pig tissue valves, like the one I placed in your father’s heart, not only survive well within the human host but thrives because the human body does not see it as foreign. It sees it as its own, not something other, but at home, as if it were there from birth. Without the assistance of immunosuppressants, it will remain nestled in seamlessly for many years to come.”

First human-pig chimeras created, sparking hopes for transplantable organs — and debate – Jan. 26, 2017

Haunted by this revelation, Samuel dived into research, attempting to unearth a deeper understanding of the human-porcine connection. His investigations led to a harrowing yet frightening discovery as a pathologist. Consuming pork by certain individuals who suffer from intestinal permeability or leaky gut caused by a diet high in processed foods could very well introduce complete porcine proteins into the human bloodstream. Could these particles then embed themselves in soft tissues as if at home, continuing to grow?

Suddenly, the room around him began to swirl as the wheels of his mind began to turn. Nourished by protein-rich plasma and stem cells, these rogue proteins, which would appear human by all measures, would continue to live on. Not only would they live and multiply quite well side by side with human cells, but they would eventually present as cancerous tumors begging to be excised, radiated, or poisoned by toxic chemotherapy.

Researchers in California have created human-pig chimeric embryos as part of a project to grow human organs for transplantation; while it may make many people uncomfortable, we have been trying to use pigs for parts for nearly 200 years.

This strange flesh, this accidental, unintended passenger, living a life of its own, happily within the confines of human soft tissues. A ticking time bomb with a clock of fifteen to twenty years growing at a rate six to eight times faster than their surrounding human neighbors. One that echoed with the lifespan of the pig itself. Just as the porcine heart valves begin to deteriorate, calcify, and decompose after fifteen to twenty years, so do these manifestations in the flesh turn malignant according to the dictates of their DNA.

To the world’s horror, Samuel’s findings suggested a link—ages-old religious wisdom from Islam and Judaism that had strictly warned against the consumption of swine now suddenly held a dark, once enigmatic, but now tangible universal truth. But science and faith, while sometimes overlapping, treading out different paths, suddenly find themselves walking in lockstep rhythm. The startling implications of Samuel’s research were no longer just spiritual; they were profoundly and devastatingly economic.

Pig embryos that had been injected with human stem cells when they were only a few days old began to grow organs containing human cells, scientists reported on Thursday, an advance that promises — or threatens — to bring closer the routine production of creatures that are part human and part something else.

The pork industry, a behemoth in the United States alone, began a ferocious pushback. Lobbyists swarmed Washington, research was questioned, and Samuel’s credibility was violently attacked at every turn and opportunity. The industry, employing over half a million Americans while contributing a whopping $57 billion to the GDP, wasn’t going down without a muddy fight.

Tensions escalated, with public debates sometimes turning violent. Samuel’s home was vandalized, and threats became a part of his daily existence. But the grim reality couldn’t remain buried for long. Independent studies began surfacing, slowly at first, but then one after the other in blinding succession over the following years, corroborating Samuel’s findings. The wave of truth, backed by undeniable scientific evidence, started swelling. Public pressures swayed and finally mounted, and the once mighty pork industry found itself on shaky grounds with its feet planted firmly in mid-air.

The Fijians used the term “long pig” to refer to human flesh. They would carry a cooked human on one shoulder and a pig on the other when bringing food. They called a human “long pig” when baked.

By 2033, under the weight of global consensus, the World Health Organization, with the backing of the United Nations, banned the consumption of all pork products. The behemoth was felled, not by a singular entity, but by the collective realization of a resounding truth so dark it overshadowed every other concern or perceived benefit.

Restaurants and butcheries, once proud purveyors of pork, shuttered. An entire industry collapsed, and its ripples were felt worldwide. Joblessness, protests, and economic upheavals marked the years following the ban. But as the dust settled, a brighter horizon emerged.

By 2053, the clouds of soft tissue cancers began to clear. Numbers dwindled, and those born after the ban experienced a world almost completely devoid of such malignancies. Hospitals witnessed dwindling cancer patients. Families rejoiced as loved ones lived longer, healthier lives.

And in a quiet corner of Maine, an aged Dr. Samuel Jennings looked at a world transformed by his discovery. There were no accolades, no grand recognitions, just the silent satisfaction of a truth revealed. However, in the stillness of the night, the weight of the revelation bore down on him, a grim reminder that sometimes the most pedestrian things, like a plate of bacon, can hold the darkest secrets.

Epilogue…

The year was 2053. In the sprawling, state-of-the-art lab located in the heart of Boston, Dr. Samuel Jennings sat behind his microscope, analyzing samples not of the swine variety that once consumed his every waking thought for more than a decade but from another, more majestic creature.

The discovery regarding pork’s link to soft tissue tumors had rocked the world some decades prior. And while the aftermath of that revelation was still felt in many sectors, it had propelled the medical world into new, uncharted territories. For Jennings, it had sparked an idea, an obsession that burned as fiercely as his earlier research.

It wasn’t just about finding an appropriate replacement for the porcine tissue; it was about seeking out an ideal mammal whose lifespan and tissue compatibility were in perfect harmony with humans. Samuel’s eureka moment came on a day like any other while watching a documentary about the mighty elephants, revered, majestic creatures known to roam the Earth for up to seventy years.

Elephants. Could their heart tissues, imbued with the power of longevity, be the key to the next medical revolution?

Working alongside Dr. Eleanor Greene, an expert in elephant physiology, Jennings began the intricate process of studying elephant cardiac tissues. Initial findings were promising. These tissues, robust and enduring, seemed not only compatible with human physiology but also hinted at a longevity that dwarfed the porcine equivalents.

The research was not without its ethical dilemmas. Both Samuel and Eleanor were resolute that no harm should come to these magnificent beasts. The solution was found in the form of ethically sourced tissue samples, often from elephants that had died of natural causes, combined with advanced cellular regeneration techniques.

By 2063, just ten years later, just two months shy of Samuel’s 75th birthday, the first bioengineered elephant heart valve, a marvel of both nature and science, was ready for human trials. A young girl named Lucy, born with a congenital heart defect, was the first recipient. The procedure was a resounding success. Lucy’s heart, bolstered by the strength and longevity of the elephant tissue, beat with renewed vigor.

Word of this groundbreaking procedure spread like wildfire. People from around the world, previously reliant on the limited lifespan of porcine valves, began flocking to Boston. The “Elephant Miracle,” as it was soon dubbed, had not only provided a superior medical solution but also rekindled a sense of wonder and respect for the natural world.

In the heart of Boston, a monument was erected—a majestic elephant with a heart of gold, symbolizing the harmonious melding of nature and science. It stood as a testament to Dr. Samuel Jennings’ relentless pursuit of knowledge and the undying spirit of human innovation.

And as Lucy, now an energetic teenager, often remarked with a twinkle in her eye, “I’ve got the heart of an elephant, and I’m ready to take on the world!”

In the annals of medical history, Dr. Samuel Jennings’ name was now etched, not once, but twice. Once for revealing the harrowing connection between pork and tumors and again for pioneering a new heart valve that could seemingly outlive those receiving them. The duality of his contributions, one dark and one filled with hope, stood as a testament of hope to the human spirit’s ability to find light even in the most shadowed corners of life.

-Michael J. Loomis & ChatGPT

An Accidental Leap Beyond Time

An Accidental Leap Beyond Time: Mark Twain’s Sojourn to 2023

Since my arrival in San Francisco, many whispered rumors have tickled my aging ears that I could hardly believe, let alone transcribe. But, dear reader, this present tale I dare to recount is neither a jest nor another of my tall tales.

One evening, as the fog enveloped our golden city, a rather mysterious telegram arrived on my desk. It bore the insignia of my esteemed friend and imaginative genius, H.G. Wells. The words, however, had the urgency of a house ablaze. It read:

“Samuel, cease all engagements and come hither to Los Angeles. The ideas I’ve been working on, the time traveling tales we spoke about, and the details I have been weaving are no longer restrained by ink and paper. Alongside my friend Nikola Tesla, I’ve breathed life into them. Prepare to defy the bonds of time.” Signed Herbert

Herbert, with all his fancies, had always held a grip on my curiosity. But this—this was fantastical even for him! Nikola Tesla, the genius capable of harnessing lightning itself, collaborating with Herbert? The notion had me clumsily racing to my wardrobe even as I speculated.

If their joint endeavor was half as grand as their independent triumphs, Los Angeles was soon to bear witness to history.

By first light, my bags were packed somewhat haphazardly, with wrinkles, soil, and all. I had no time for laundry. I imagined Herbert, with his piercing eyes and wild hair, sketching out a machine not of this world, while Nikola, with his methodical precision, brought every line and curve to life. A time machine, they called it. I chuckled at the thought. But if any men were to challenge the very fabric of time, it would be these two.

En route to the train station, the city seemed to blur. Horse and buggy clattered, children played, and the salty wind tousled my hair. But my mind was consumed by the future—or was it the past?

I pondered on the implications. Could one venture to the days of Moses or witness Caesar’s last breath? Or perhaps venture forward to see if San Francisco would ever grow taller than its beloved hills.

Later the next day, after arriving in Los Angeles, I dropped off my bags at the hotel I headed over to the laboratory of my friends Herbert and Nikola. Upon entry, I laid my eyes upon a vast and chaotic mix of wires, coils, and odd contraptions, whereby I was greeted with a sight most splendid. There, amidst a whirlwind of sparks and steam, stood the Time Machine. More magnificent than even my wildest imagination, it was both regal and otherworldly.

Herbert, seeing my bewilderment, stepped forward, his face illuminated by the machine’s glow. “Samuel,” he exclaimed, clutching my arm, shaking my hand wildly with both hands, “we’ve done it! We’re on the cusp of rewriting the very annals of history!”

Nikola, ever the reserved soul, smiled with his boyish grin and said, “It’s still in its infancy, but the prospects are… limitless.”

As I gazed at the fantastical contraption, the weight of the moment settled upon me. Here, in this humble laboratory, time’s very essence was being toyed with. And, as is the spirit of our age, the boundaries of what was known were once again being pushed, dared, and defied.

The next morning, after a well-deserved dinner, a few too many celebratory libations, and a night of fitful sleep, I arrived early at the lab located just around the corner from the Hollenbeck Hotel where I was staying. The monolithic structure of the Time Machine soon dwarfed my presence. It stood there, a beacon of bronze and shimmering light, radiating an energy that was almost palpable.

Herbert approached me with a gleam in his eyes. “Ready for an adventure, Samuel?”

Nikola, adjusting a few dials and observing the various gauges, cautioned, “It’s still experimental. The journey might not be as… smooth as one would hope.”

But what journey had ever been smooth for men like us? The very essence of adventure is the unpredictable, the unknown. I nodded, eagerness trumping any latent apprehension.

After a brief instruction—mostly by Nikola, with Herbert enthusiastically interjecting—we stepped into the capsule. The interior was surprisingly spacious, adorned with red velvet seats and intricate brass controls. A large glass portal allowed us to peer into the void we were about to plunge into.

With a final check, Nikola activated the machine. A hum, low and rhythmic at first, began to reverberate. The walls of the lab began to blur, melting into a whirl of colors. My stomach lurched, and for a moment, I felt weightless.

When the whirlwind subsided, I stumbled out, only to be met with a sight most bewildering. Before us lay Los Angeles, but not the one we just left. No, it was grander, a bit more modern, with structures reaching higher into the heavens. Horse and their carriages were somewhat fewer and interspersed with metal contraptions dodging people, beasts, and the occasional Red Car on rails in the middle of smooth concrete thoroughfares stretching as far as the eye could see.

“It worked!” Herbert exclaimed, his face reflecting pure ecstasy. “We’ve journeyed thirty years into the future!”

Nikola, ever observant, remarked, “Look at the technology. It’s advanced, but there’s a familiarity to it. We might not be too far ahead.”

As Herbert and I explored this new world, Nikola stayed behind with the contraption to tinker, to do what he does best. At each passing moment, it became evident that our world had changed. We marveled at the gadgets, the updated architecture, and the tales of a world that had endured what was called ‘The Great War’, and yet had advancement continued in ways unimaginable in such a short time.

However, after just a couple of days, our sojourn was cut short. Nikola sent a young man to summon Herbert and me back to the lab. He had noticed our grand carriage, the Time Machine, starting to flicker. “The machine’s stability in foreign timelines is uncertain. We must return before we’re stranded,” he warned.

So we climbed back into our vessel, and with another dizzying whirl, we were back in the familiar surroundings of our 1893 lab.

Catching my breath, I turned to my companions. “Gentlemen, we’ve not only witnessed history but leaped into it, danced with it! The tales I can weave, the stories I can tell…”

Herbert, resting a hand on my shoulder, whispered, “Slow down my good friend, remember the responsibility that comes with such knowledge. The future is a delicate tapestry, one we’ve been privileged to glimpse, but not meddle with.”

Nikola nodded in agreement, “The Time Machine will remain an experiment for now, a testament to human ingenuity but not a toy to meddle with the course of history.”

And so, with a heavy heart but a mind brimming with tales, I returned to the hotel for the night to retire. The next morning, I would pack my bags for my journey back home.

Upon arriving back home in San Francisco, I knew there was no way I would look at the world the same way again. Days turned into weeks, and weeks turned into months, ticking by, marked by a weaving and a whirlwind of scribbles in my journal, late nights, and endless smoke from my faithful pipe. The story had to be told, even if masked as fiction. However, as I ventured deeper into my memories, the weight of Herbert’s words settled upon me. Maybe some things truly are better left unsaid.

The line between my responsibilities as a storyteller and the dangers of revealing too much became a tightrope. I could not, in good conscience, reveal all that we had seen. But to withhold such wondrous experiences felt equally disheartening. This was torture for me.

Then, one evening, as the sun’s orange hue painted San Francisco’s horizon, there was a knock at my door. It was Herbert, with a familiar, mischievous glint in his eyes. He held up a freshly printed manuscript, the title of which read, “The Time Machine.”

“I’ve penned it down, Samuel,” he declared. “A tale, inspired by our adventure, but abstracted enough to remain in the realms of fantasy.”

Curiosity piqued, I invited him in, and we sat by the hearth, with him reading aloud. The tale was fantastical, as was expected of Herbert. It spoke of a Time Traveler, his journey to the distant future, and his encounters with the Eloi and the Morlocks.

It was our adventure but through the lens of Herbert’s unparalleled imagination and a journey much further into the future. He had masterfully blended the truth with fiction, creating a tapestry that was as captivating as it was cautionary.

Upon finishing, Herbert looked at me expectantly. “What do you think?”

“I believe,” I began, pausing to puff my pipe, “that you’ve managed to encapsulate the essence of our journey, without exposing the world to its dangers, yet disguising its existence. Brilliant way to hide the truth in plain sight. Bravo my good man, it’s a masterpiece.”

He sighed in relief, “I wanted to honor our experience, but I also understood the weight of the truth. This,” he gestured to the manuscript, “is a safe middle ground.”

Our conversation drifted into the smoke-filled night, discussing the implications of our journey, the marvels of the future, and the responsibility we bore.

As dawn broke, we headed off to breakfast, where Herbert convinced me to come back to Los Angeles with him to see the work that Nikola had been continuing in the lab. Something Herbert had forgotten to mention in his excitement of his most recent publication.

A couple of days later, we arrived back in Los Angeles at the dimly lit laboratory where Nikola was sitting back leisurely admiring this updated version of the fabulous contraption we had taken for a ride into the next century. With Herbert and Nikola standing by, Samuel sat eagerly atop this updated machine that was more compact and sleeker than the whimsical contraption that they had previously used to travel into the future. The plan was simple: a quick trip back to 1923, a mere glimpse again into the future. But, as with all adventures, things rarely go according to plan.

The world shifted, and with a blinding flash, this time all alone, Samuel found himself on a bustling street, surrounded by metal beasts on wheels. But this time was different. Completely different and unfamiliar. A world devoid of horses, carriages, bonnets, and tophats. And the most magnificent structures towering buildings of concrete, glass, and steel. He quickly realized the grave error: the machine had flung him into 2023, not 1923.

Los Angeles stood tall and proud, but to Samuel, it looked alien. Vast digital screens loomed overhead, flashing images faster than the blink of an eye. People roamed with curious devices held to their ears or in their hands, seemingly talking to themselves.

His initial awe soon turned to a sinking feeling. Curiosity led him to the Los Angeles Central Library. Here, he met Paige Turner, a librarian with kind eyes and an ironic name, given the times. With her help, Samuel spent endless days at a computer terminal, delving deep into the world of the internet. The discoveries he made painted a grim picture for the traditionalists in him.

AI systems, like ‘WriteRight’ and ‘Artistic Ally,’ not only assisted writers and artists but were beginning to replace them. The visual arts weren’t spared either, with software such as ‘Visual Virtuoso’ replicating masterpieces with frightening accuracy.

The horror he felt was palpable. In this new world, the roles of writers, inventors, and artists seemed superfluous. The unique human touch, the stroke of genius, appeared endangered. As someone who’d spent a lifetime weaving tales and critiquing society, this future appeared bleak.

With Paige as his guide, he traversed this unfamiliar world. Between dinners and strolls, they discussed how AI contrasted with inventions of the past. The printing press, the steam engine, electricity – all revolutionary, yet they created opportunities. Here, AI threatened to eliminate the need for human creativity and labor altogether.

“What do folks do with their time now, with machines doing all the work?” Samuel queried one evening.

Paige looked thoughtful. “Many still work, but not out of necessity. There’s a movement towards pursuing passions, learning, or even just leisure. But it’s not all rosy. There’s a struggle to find meaning and purpose.”

The Universal Needs Guarantee, formerly referred to as UBI(Universal Basic Income), had been instituted. All of mankind’s basic needs – food, shelter, clothing, education, and healthcare – were now orchestrated by an intricate web of AI-managed systems. With no labor required, many sought meaning through spiritual, educational, and recreational avenues. Yet, a lingering emptiness remained for many.

Samuel mulled over it, “Since the dawn of time, man has been defined by his work. Take that away, and the soul yearns for purpose.”

As days turned to weeks, Samuel grew fonder of Paige. Their bond deepened over shared stories and experiences. Yet, the weight of his discovery and the ache of the world he left behind tugged at his heartstrings.

One fateful evening, as they sat overlooking the Los Angeles skyline, Samuel confessed, “I’ve seen wonders and horrors in equal measure here. I fear for the writers and artists. But there’s hope. Humanity has a knack for finding its way.”

Paige smiled, “You’re a relic of a time long gone, Mr. Clemens. Yet, you’ve adapted. That’s the spirit of mankind.”

The day of his departure arrived. With a heavy heart and a promise to remember Paige, Samuel returned to Nikola’s lab, praying the machine would work in reverse.

He arrived with a jolt. The room was as he left it – Herbert and Nikola still adjusting the machine, unaware he’d been gone.

Samuel, with tales of a future both wondrous and disconcerting, knew he had stories to tell. With a newfound appreciation for the written word and the human touch, he penned his experiences, weaving cautionary tales for future generations.

As for Paige Turner, she remained in 2023, with memories of a writer from the past, hoping that despite the advancements, humanity would never lose its essence.

Nikola’s lab was awash in the same dim glow, but to Samuel, it now seemed too archaic, too rudimentary. The familiar scents of oil and singed metal did little to calm his racing heart.

Herbert approached, his face lit with excitement. “Ready for the jump to 1923?”

Samuel hesitated, “We need to talk.”

Over the course of hours, Samuel narrated his unexpected adventure. He spoke of the towering glass buildings, the technological marvels, and the AIs capable of creating art and literature that rivaled human genius.

Nikola, who had always been a visionary, looked both intrigued and perturbed. “Such a future is both a dream and a nightmare,” he mused. “Our inventions meant to enhance human life, not replace the very essence of it.”

Samuel nodded, “That’s precisely it. In trying to make life easier, we’ve inadvertently set a course that might make the human touch obsolete.”

Herbert, ever the futurist, remarked, “Isn’t that the progression of things? Horse-drawn carriages gave way to trains. Trains to automobiles. Each invention brought about change, often rendering previous professions obsolete. However, there’s a difference between augmenting human capacity and completely overshadowing it.”

Samuel remembered his discussions with Paige. “People in that time have more leisure, more resources. But many grapple with a deep-seated emptiness. The pursuit of passions becomes challenging when machines can do it better.”

The three men sat in contemplative silence, the weight of the implications pressing upon them.

Herbert finally broke the silence, “Perhaps, we can’t halt progress, but we can guide it. If your tale is any indication, Samuel, we need to ensure that technology remains a tool, not a master.”

Samuel agreed, “AI, like all tools, is as good or bad as its use. It’s our responsibility to define its boundaries.”

Nikola, rolling up his sleeves, declared, “Then let’s start with this machine. We need to ensure such accidental journeys don’t occur. And who knows? Maybe we can find a way to balance human essence with machine efficiency.”

The days that followed saw the trio deeply engrossed in their work. Samuel, though not an inventor, provided insights and shared his experiences, guiding their vision. Herbert penned speculative pieces, cautioning about unchecked advancements, while Nikola tinkered with his inventions, ensuring they augmented human capabilities without replacing them.

As time wore on, Samuel often thought of Paige. He wondered if, in that sprawling future city, she remembered a man out of time. He penned letters he couldn’t send and stories inspired by their shared moments.

One day, while rummaging through Nikola’s workshop, Samuel found a peculiar object. It was a small device, not unlike the ones he’d seen in 2023, with an emblem that read “Paige’s Library.”

Curious, he activated it. To his surprise, a holographic image of Paige materialized. “Dearest Samuel,” her projection began, “I suspected you might find this. Consider it a parting gift, a way for me to share my world with you.”

The device contained snippets of Paige’s life, her stories, and her experiences in 2023. Samuel was once again reminded of the duality of the future – the wonder of connection and the danger of losing oneself.

The journey to 2023 became a cornerstone in Samuel’s writings. The experience shaped his narratives, urging readers to value the human spirit amidst the march of progress.

Years later, as Samuel settled into the twilight of his life, he often pondered the dance of destiny. While he cherished his time with Nikola and Herbert and the revolutionary ideas they birthed, it was the memory of a librarian named Paige Turner in a future not his own that warmed his heart the most.

Samuel’s later years were marked by profound introspection and prolific writing. His tales of 2023 resonated deeply, not just as speculative fiction but as cautionary tales. With every penned word, he urged society to tread the path of advancement with caution and mindfulness.

As the years rolled by, Samuel became a beacon of wisdom for the literary world, his experiences lending a unique perspective. His writings began influencing thought leaders, educators, and even budding inventors. Universities invited him to speak, eager to hear firsthand about the world he had glimpsed.

On one such occasion, a young student asked, “Mr. Clemens, given the chance, would you venture to the future again?”

Samuel, his eyes distant yet twinkling, replied, “Son, every day is a venture into the future. It’s not about witnessing the marvels; it’s about shaping them.”

His bond with Nikola and Herbert deepened, the shared secret of the accidental journey drawing them closer. Nikola, inspired by Samuel’s tales, began working on projects that aimed at harmonizing technology with the human spirit. He believed in creating machines that could understand and respect human emotions rather than merely replicating tasks.

Herbert, ever the storyteller, collaborated with Samuel on a series of novels that painted vivid pictures of futures both utopian and dystopian, drawing from the experiences and insights of their friend. Their joint works became instant classics, studied and dissected by generations of readers and scholars.

But amidst the whirlwind of lectures, writings, and inventions, Samuel’s heart often wandered back to those quiet evenings in Los Angeles, the city lights shimmering, with Paige by his side. He missed their conversations, her laughter, and the gentle way she’d introduced him to the nuances of a world he hadn’t been prepared for.

One winter evening, as snow gently blanketed his Connecticut home, there came a soft knock on the door. Samuel, expecting no one, opened it to find a familiar face, albeit older.

“Paige?” he exclaimed, disbelief evident in his voice.

With a smile that hadn’t changed over the years, she replied, “It seems, Samuel, that Herbert and Nikola weren’t the only ones tinkering with time.”

As they settled by the fireplace, Paige revealed that inspired by their time together; she’d sought out inventors in her era who had toyed with the concept of time travel. It had taken years, but she’d finally managed to embark on a one-way journey to Samuel’s time.

Over cups of hot cocoa, they reminisced and marveled at the dance of destiny. Here they were, two souls from different eras, brought together by an accident and now reunited by determination and love.

Together, over the following year, they penned a book, weaving both their perspectives into a narrative that spanned two centuries. It became a testament to the enduring human spirit, the magic of serendipity, and the power of love to transcend time.

Samuel’s later years, enriched by Paige’s presence, were marked by joy, collaboration, and profound insights. As they both grew old together, they became a living embodiment of the belief that while technology might shape the world, it’s love, connection, and shared stories that truly define the essence of humanity.

The fame of the reunited pair grew, as did the intrigue surrounding their extraordinary story. Their collaborative work was revered not just as a masterpiece of literature but also as a profound philosophical treatise that navigated the interplay between technology and humanity. Universities, societies, and even governments invited the duo to speak, eager to glean wisdom from their unique blend of experiences.

In one of their joint lectures at Yale, a student inquired, “Miss Turner, how has the transition been for you, coming from a future so advanced to an era like this?”

Paige smiled, “At first, the absence of the conveniences I was accustomed to felt overwhelming. But then, I realized that it’s not technology that defines an era, but the people and their stories. And in that, every age is rich.”

Their home in Connecticut became a haven for thinkers, writers, and inventors. Nikola, often accompanied by Herbert, would visit, and their gatherings became legendary – a melting pot of ideas, debates, and dreams of shaping a brighter future.

One summer, a young artist named Diego Rivera visited them. Inspired by their story and the interplay of time, technology, and love, he painted a mural titled “The Dance of Two Eras”. The artwork, depicting Samuel and Paige against a backdrop of transitioning centuries, became one of Rivera’s most iconic pieces.

But beyond the fame and intellectual pursuits, it was the simple moments that the couple cherished most. Morning walks by the river, quiet evenings with books, shared laughs over Samuel’s ever-present cigars and Paige’s attempts to introduce him to futuristic music on a vintage gramophone.

Yet, the passage of time, an element they had both defied in their own ways, remained relentless. As years turned to decades, age caught up with Samuel. His once-vigorous hands now trembled, and the twinkle in his eyes dimmed occasionally. But his spirit remained indomitable.

On one of his more lucid days, he turned to Paige and mused, “You know, when I first landed in your time, I felt lost. The future seemed like a desolate place for artists, thinkers, and romantics. But having you here, in my time, I’ve come to see that the heart and soul of humanity persist, no matter the age or advancement.”

Paige, her eyes glistening, replied, “Time is but a river, Samuel. It flows, it twists, it turns. But love, stories, and the essence of who we are? Those are the constants. They’re our anchors.”

Samuel passed away on a quiet spring evening with Paige by his side. His legacy, enriched by his experiences and insights from the future, left an indelible mark on literature and society.

Paige continued to honor their shared journey. She established the Twain-Turner Institute, dedicated to exploring the intersection of technology, art, and humanity. The institute became a beacon, guiding future generations on a path where technological advancement and human essence coexisted harmoniously.

As for Paige, she lived out her days cherishing the memories of a love that had defied the constraints of time. And in her heart, she held the belief that somewhere, in another time or dimension, she and Samuel would meet again.

My Life

What is our role in life on Earth?

Option #1: Some people have religious beliefs about a creator who brought about mankind in their pleasure to create something good. At some point, things kind of went askew, which later required an intervention to make things right again. However, we still see the same problems persisting pervasively from just after creation through the present day. And some still believe there is another intervention yet to come that will fix it all up really well through some kind of apocalyptic end.

Option #2: There are some who believe in something simpler than that—something that is simply biological. If that is the case, then something else brought us about for a reason—for a purpose to be served in our biological environment. This is not unlike when nature calls up bacteria, yeast, and fungi to clean up a biological mess through remediation. Mother Nature’s clean-up crew. Then those itty-bitty little critters return to the dust from whence they came.

There may be more options than this, but for now, let’s just consider these.

What if it is option #2? What if Mother Nature called us up for a biological purpose in response to another biological function that needed a remedy that looked like us? Yet, here we are, seemingly more complex than bacteria, yeast, fungi, or those fun little guys we call Tardigrades. Of course, we believe that we are more complex than they are. It certainly appears that way. But even amongst those bioremediation specialists, there are various layers of complexity, yet we, as humans, consider them relatively simple and likely non-sentient in most senses. But are they? Or is that just because we cannot descend to their level and truly comprehend what level of consciousness they enjoy?

Which brings me to the thought that brought me here in the first place. Have we, as humans, departed from our original purpose? Have we, in our finite wisdom, crafted over and upon ourselves additional layers of complexity that are ultimately causing our species more harm than good? What if our current existence, where we are only appreciating a lifespan of 78.5 years, is a result of our march of progress we call modernity is the problem?

How far would we need to go, to disconnect from our modern luxuries if that were the resolution? Could it be something as simple as moving to somewhere like Costa Rica, buying 20 acres of land, growing our own foods, while living off the grid, outside of our modern day Matrix? Who knows…

I must come back to this later. Unfortunately, I have homework and other niceties to attend to, but I could not let this train of thought get away from me.

Such is the life of a writer…

I Sing the Bookstore Eclectic by Ray Bradbury

I Sing the Bookstore Eclectic (Ray Bradbury essay, 1989)

It is a labyrinth, a tomb, a catacomb, a maze. It is the best walk-through multimedia experience, if not on Earth, if not in all America, at least in the western part of the United States. In its dusty roundabout winding corridors, turn here and you collide with Shaw, turn there and you knock elbows with Gibbon, go farther on and you wind up in the company of a wild bunch of Victorian children, nameless until now, surrounding you elephant-high on all sides, calling their titles and daring you to remember. What I describe is the Acres of Books bookstore in Long Beach. (It does, indeed, cover the better part of an acre, a whole city block on Long Beach Boulevard.)

To continue, it is a watering hole, a grand place to prowl on rainy days, to open books never seen before and probably never to be seen again, as the rain chatters on the high tin roofs, and you get that old wondrous time-spell feeling of hoping that when you turn the next stack you’ll meet a lion with a pride of hunters soon behind. Carl Akeley, on the shelf, grabs a rhino’s horn and leaps over its back to land safely. Somewhere in the high dust, Martin and Osa Johnson still fly over Kilimanjaro, and the children of Dickens grub in the soot and ask for more.

But, you protest, most bookstores have some of the above. Most libraries contain a touch of dust magic, a remembrance of fabled years. The characters you love do swarm the monkey-tree stacks.

Good. But not good enough.

I go to Acres of Books, as I go to Paris, or Rome, or London, or New York, to be – lost.

Half the fun of travel, as we all know, is the aesthetic of lostness. Not being able to put Piccadilly together with Regent Street or relate Hyde Park to distant Charing Cross, that is deliciousness. To go down the Spanish Steps in Rome and – vanish. To go out in Paris midnight crowds and wonder why you love it so, as texture after texture drifts by and you wish you could walk forever.

So it is with Acres of Books. I go there, finally and completely, to be lost, in two ways. Not only in the serpentine multiplicity of shelf on shelf and stack on stack, but lost in the variety of strange people I meet. Far over in the Victorian section, I stumble on 500 books by four dozen authors I have never heard of before, all published between 1870 and 1905. Henty is there, of course, and Kipling. But who ever heard of James Otis, or W.H.G. Kingston, or Harry Castlemon, and why not just seize them and invite them home?

Old theater programs from London plays in 1905? They’re there. Art books published in 1899? They’re there.

I go there on rainy days for a good dose of this lostness, plus the grand incense of book dust, which I deeply inhale as others take snuff, and clean the booktops with a sneeze.

Is all this romantic bilge, spilled forth by an aging Martian who has lost his marbles in the tomb? If a million books aren’t romantic, what is? Is all this worth the savor of walking through and wanting never to come out, because these corridors filled with imagination and history are preferable to that drab spring-fog noon waiting to trap you out on the careless street? It is. Worth everything. And cheap. I bought 30 books there one great rainy morn, for $42.55!

The place may be gone soon. A phalanx of city officials, eminent domain specialists, urban planners, and gang-banging steam shovels may soon knock the place flat, shut up Chesterton-Shaw’s debates, march Caesar’s legions into the sea, and cement the whole damned thing over.

Better get there while you can. The dust is waiting like an Orient spice. The literary ghosts are waiting like the friends you always wanted and now at last find. The winding corridors promise you to be forever going on a journey and forever lost. Bring your flashlight for late in the day. Ask for me. Tut’s in there somewhere. Inquire. He’ll tell you where I am.

(Transcribed from a printout of an old California Magazine scan. The essay seems to have vanished from the internet, so I’m putting it back up. I was a regular customer at this very bookstore and it was awesome. The owners were forced to close in 2008 due to pesky developer greed. The building sat empty for years and another developer recently acquired and razed it. Only a tiny sliver of the 1933 Streamline Moderne facade remains.)

The More I Learn the Less I Know

The more I learn, the less I am sure that there is a perfect diet for anyone, much less humans as a species. Yes, it would be fabulous if we could do like many other animals and just eat one thing over and over again day after day while living a long and healthy life. Of course, I imagine a few carnivore friends will say there is, but I’m not here to argue that point. I’m here to say I don’t know anymore.

I do know where I am at in my diet and why I now eat the way I do, and there are some things that I am certain will never be good for human consumption. One of those is preservatives of any sort, which means most processed foods, if not all, are off the dinner table. Just eat food the way Mother Nature created it. And if you’re going to eat vegetables, cook them first. Make soup.

Fruit gets a free pass because Mother Nature intended that it be eaten in its raw state, as that is how it propagates itself. Vegetables, not so much. They produce anti-nutrients that are their way of preserving their life into the next generation. No, plants are not trying to kill you. At least not humans anyway, but they are trying to kill or inhibit things at the level of insects and microorganisms. That is because they must NOT get eaten if they want to continue propagating themselves into the next generation. And we humans DO have microorganisms living within us, two to five pounds worth, that depend on us NOT eating things that prevent or inhibit the growth and wellbeing of microorganisms.

Animals are not food but food processors that condense the nutrients that Mother Nature creates for her creatures. She only makes plants, which animals concentrate into their bodies that we then consume when eating them or their eggs and lactates. When it comes to animal-based foods, my only suggestion is to eat them in moderation as they are highly concentrated forms of food that are extremely rich in nutrients.

After many years of experimenting with different diets, I have experienced that you’ve likely found a better way when you get to a point where your body requires very little to be satisfied and healthy. If you eat three meals a day, your body may not be getting enough of the nutrients it needs, and as a result, it keeps sending you messages to put more food in your mouth.

At this point in time, I would suggest that there is no perfect diet for all people, no matter what all the online influencers want to suggest. They are trying to make a living from people like you. You are the consumer, and they have products they need to sell. You are their human resources so that they can put a roof over their heads, food in their belly, and clothes on their backs.

Our bodies are self-regulating, self-healing mechanisms. They know how to make themselves right. We (humans) need to figure out the language they speak and oblige them, as their ways are higher than ours, and their needs will always supersede our desires.

Your body loves you more than you know and will always treat you with beneficence and non-maleficence. Your body will never attack itself. It can, however, feel that way to us, and we might even call it that with names like auto-immune disorders. I believe otherwise. Our body would not shoot itself in the foot. It will, however, speak as loudly to you as it needs to get your attention and sometimes, to us, in our ignorance, appears as though it is attacking itself. Sometimes, I wish it would just use words…8)

Simply put, the only foods are the ones that Mother Nature makes. Animal-based foods are food concentrates. And as for concentrates, I suggest eating them sparingly. Raw vegetables, in almost every case, are not intended for human consumption. We are not herbivores. Fruits are intended to be eaten in their raw form. That’s part of Mother Nature’s plan for them. Processed foods, fast foods, or any foods that REQUIRE a Nutrition Facts label are unnatural and NOT what Mother Nature intended for us and will likely leave you in an unintended state of regret.

As Above, So Below

As Above, So Below: Humans and Earth as Symbiotic and Parasitic Entities

The phrase “As Above, So Below” originates from ancient philosophies, suggesting that the macrocosm reflects the microcosm and vice versa. This concept invites us to explore the relationship between humans and Earth by drawing a parallel to the relationship between bacteria and the human body. Just as bacteria can be both beneficial and harmful within the digestive tract, humans have the potential to either nurture or devastate the Earth’s ecosystems. Walk with me as I explore the dual role humans play in relation to Earth, akin to how bacteria interact with the human body, and how this relationship requires a delicate balance for mutual survival.

The Symbiotic and Parasitic Roles of Bacteria and Humans

Bacteria in the human digestive tract can be broadly categorized into those that are symbiotic and those that are parasitic. Symbiotic bacteria play essential roles in human health by aiding in digestion, synthesizing vitamins, and bolstering the immune system. These microorganisms form a mutually beneficial relationship with their human host, thriving within the digestive environment while providing necessary functions for human survival. In contrast, parasitic bacteria disrupt normal bodily functions, causing infections and diseases that can lead to serious health complications.

Similarly, humans interact with Earth in ways that can be symbiotic or parasitic. On one hand, humans have the capacity to contribute positively to the planet’s ecosystems. Sustainable practices, such as reforestation, renewable energy development, and conservation efforts, reflect humanity’s potential to live in harmony with Earth’s natural systems. These actions not only benefit the environment by preserving biodiversity and reducing pollution but also ensure the long-term survival of human societies by maintaining the planet’s ability to support life.

On the other hand, human activities often take on a parasitic nature, causing significant harm to the environment. Industrialization, deforestation, pollution, and the overexploitation of natural resources have led to widespread environmental degradation. This destructive behavior mirrors the impact of pathogenic bacteria in the human body, where an imbalance can lead to diseases that compromise the host’s health. This comparison between humans and bacteria highlights the dual potential humans hold: they can either sustain and enrich the Earth or degrade and deplete its resources.

The Importance of Balance in Human-Earth Interactions

The human body maintains a delicate balance between beneficial and harmful bacteria through what we call our immune system and other regulatory mechanisms. When this balance is disrupted, whether by illness, poor diet, or external factors, the consequences can be severe, leading to conditions such as inflammatory diseases, infections, or even chronic illnesses. Similarly, Earth has natural regulatory systems, such as the carbon cycle, water cycle, and food chains, which maintain environmental stability. These systems are designed to keep ecosystems functioning healthily, ensuring that life can thrive in a balanced environment.

However, just as an imbalance in bacteria leads to health problems in humans, an imbalance in how humans interact with Earth can have devastating consequences. Climate change, driven by excessive greenhouse gas emissions, is one of the most pressing examples of this imbalance. The disruption of the carbon cycle, primarily through the burning of fossil fuels, has led to global warming, rising sea levels, and extreme weather events, threatening both natural ecosystems and human societies.

Another example is the loss of biodiversity, often a direct result of human activities like deforestation, habitat destruction, and pollution. Biodiversity is crucial for ecosystem resilience, allowing environments to recover from disturbances and continue to provide essential services such as clean air, water, and food. The decline in biodiversity mirrors the loss of beneficial bacteria in the human gut, which can lead to digestive disorders and weakened immunity. In both cases, the loss of diversity—whether microbial or biological—leads to a weakened system more vulnerable to external stresses.

The Need for a Symbiotic Future

The future health of both humans and the Earth hinges on maintaining a balanced, symbiotic relationship rather than allowing parasitic behaviors to dominate. In the human body, maintaining a healthy bacterial balance is increasingly recognized as vital to overall health, leading to the growing popularity of probiotics and prebiotics. These substances help nurture beneficial bacteria, ensuring that they outcompete harmful pathogens and contribute to a well-functioning digestive system.

In a similar vein, humans must adopt proactive measures to foster a healthier relationship with Earth. This can be achieved through sustainable practices that minimize environmental impact and promote the restoration of natural ecosystems. Global initiatives aimed at reducing carbon emissions, protecting endangered species, and restoring degraded lands are crucial steps in this direction. These efforts are akin to providing the Earth with the environmental equivalent of probiotics—restorative actions that promote balance and health.

Education and awareness are also essential in this symbiotic journey. Just as individuals learn about the importance of maintaining gut health, society must be educated about the importance of sustainable living. Understanding the consequences of our actions and the benefits of positive environmental stewardship can inspire collective efforts to protect the planet. By shifting from a parasitic to a symbiotic role, humans can ensure that Earth remains a viable and thriving home for future generations.

This metaphor of humans as bacteria within Earth’s “digestive tract” serves as a powerful reminder of the impact we have on our planet. Like our own bacteria(gut flora), we can be either beneficial or harmful, depending on our actions and the balance we maintain within our environment. The health of our planet, much like the health of the human body, depends on the maintenance of this delicate balance.

As above, so below—the principle that governs the relationship between humans and Earth also applies to the microscopic world within us. Just as a healthy bacterial balance is crucial for human well-being, a balanced and symbiotic relationship between humans and Earth is essential for the planet’s health and our own survival. By recognizing and embracing our potential to contribute positively to the Earth, we can shift the balance from parasitism to symbiosis, ensuring a thriving future for both humanity and the natural world, within and without.

Devil in a New Dress

How are we to understand viruses and their role in pathology? I predict that in the not-too-distant future, we will have a different understanding than we do today and that our current understanding is little more than a devil(demon) with a new dress on. The word virus is taken from the Latin word for poison. Literally, “slimy liquid poison.”

I predict that in the future, we will come to understand that what we call viruses will be better understood as something akin to snippets of code like those we use in programming our computers, which dictate how they function. Snippets of code that tell biological lifeforms how to function under various environmental conditions at any given point in time.

I predict that in the future, we will no longer entertain the idea that viruses can be passed from one person to another, resulting in various states of disease. Disease and acute expressions of it will be better understood as something more akin to an automobile that is never maintained or serviced. The human body is much like an automobile that begins its life functioning fabulously with a high level of ease. And if it is maintained properly, it can live on indefinitely. If not, it will begin to function poorly and eventually break down completely. Sound familiar? Know anyone whose body is broken down and functioning poorly? The cause is one and the same. Poor quality fuel and lack of scheduled maintenance.

I predict that in the future, if we do well, we will, on the whole, quit looking for causes outside of our control for what we call disease. We will move away from pharmaceuticals, realizing that they cannot make someone whole again. That pharmaceuticals are little more than bandaids on bulletholes. Instead of soft-peddling the role of personal responsibility, we will tell people the hard truths of what their life should look like if they want to maintain full functionality. That we would hold people responsible for what it means to be a fully and gainfully functioning human being rather than pushing pills to numb the pain resulting from poor choices that led them to a doctor in the first place.

Age

Imagine living in a world where it was completely normal to live well beyond one hundred years of age. A world where it was completely normal for a one-hundred-and-twenty-year-old body to have the functionality and appearance of an Olympic athlete.

If that were the norm and you found yourself aging like most people do today, to maybe 80, how would that make you feel? A life where you found yourself shuffling behind a walker or being pushed in a wheelchair by a caretaker from seventy-five until you breathed your last painful breath at 80. A life where you had to stop working and retire at sixty-five because that was all that was expected of you in your condition, all while everyone else around you was living beyond one hundred and twenty years as mentioned above.

How would that make you feel?

The Question

Read the following carefully and then answer the QUESTION.

Only 5–10% of all cancer cases can be attributed to genetic defects, whereas the remaining 90–95% have their roots in the ENVIRONMENT and LIFESTYLE.

Our skin(outside/epidermis) covers an average area of 18.75 square feet. Our gastrointestinal tract which makes up the rest of the humans environmentally exposed surface area covers an average area of 377 square feet.

Our GI tract which is twenty(20) times larger than our external world is just one thin and very delicate layer of dermis compared to our external environment which is made up of an incredibly durable five(5) layers that can withstand all manner of insult and injury.

The average human consumes 1,750 pounds of food per year passing over/through that tract, which is actually external though most consider it internal. In actuality, the inside of our body doesn’t start until the small intestine.

QUESTION: According to the aforementioned information, what is the single greatest cause of environmentally caused cancer based on exposure and lifestyle choices?

A Momentary Channeling of Ray Bradbury

It’s a gentle Southern California afternoon just a few miles from the coast of Long Beach. The sound of birds calling out in a harmonious sense of discord. The ants in front of me on the hot concrete mill back and forth to and fro, gently greeting each other for just a moment as they continue on their journey.

I look up to see the leaves of my Betula Birch, which I planted some fifteen years ago—it may have even been sixteen. The leaves bristled back and forth quickly, then slowly, and back again as the gentle breeze from the south worked them up into an audible frenzy. Which reminds me…I need to trim Betty a little.

As I look down at the 60-year-old warm concrete beneath my feet, I’m reminded that my father and his father before him may have very well stood here, just like me, looking at this same piece of ground, the same sky, breathing in that same sense of awe that I am experiencing.

They may have even experienced many years earlier, that same joy I feel…Sitting here today.

Wulzen Anti-Stiffness Factor

The Wulzen factor, also known as the “anti-stiffness factor,” is a compound called stigmasterol, which is present in raw milk and sugarcane juice. Dr. Rosalind Wulzen discovered stigmasterol. Stigmasterol plays a crucial role in the assimilation of calcium and phosphorus by promoting their proper utilization and preventing their excessive deposition in soft tissues. It helps maintain the balance of these minerals in the body, ensuring that calcium and phosphorus are adequately absorbed and utilized for bone health and metabolic processes. This regulation prevents calcification and the associated negative effects on various organs and tissues, contributing to overall health and the prevention of conditions such as atherosclerosis, chronic kidney disease, liver disease, neurological disorders, cognitive decline, and other related disorders.

Stigmasterol is a fat-soluble nutrient that combats arthritis and alleviates symptoms such as pain, swelling, and stiffness. Early nutrition researchers considered it to be a vitamin-like substance, but it was never officially recognized as a vitamin by mainstream medical and government authorities. The factor is destroyed by pasteurization, leading to a debate where advocates argue that pasteurization could contribute to arthritis by eliminating this beneficial compound.

Stigmasterol, also known as a phytosterol, is a plant sterol found in various plant sources such as vegetables, legumes, nuts, seeds, and unrefined plant oils. It is also concentrated in mammalian lactates, which offers several health benefits. Firstly, stigmasterol lowers cholesterol levels by competing with dietary cholesterol for absorption in the digestive system, thereby reducing the amount that enters the bloodstream. Additionally, it exhibits anti-inflammatory properties, which are beneficial in managing chronic inflammation-related conditions like arthritis.

Stigmasterol also has antioxidant effects, protecting cells from damage caused by free radicals and potentially reducing the risk of chronic diseases. Some studies suggest that stigmasterol inhibits the growth of cancer cells, indicating possible anticancer properties, though more research is needed in this area. Furthermore, stigmasterol may contribute to maintaining bone health by influencing enzymes involved in bone metabolism. Its combined effects of lowering cholesterol and providing anti-inflammatory and antioxidant benefits also support better cardiovascular health.

Critics of pasteurization laws suggested that acknowledging the existence and benefits of the Wulzen factor would challenge the widespread promotion of pasteurized dairy products. In modern nutritional science, the Wulzen factor is not widely acknowledged, with limited contemporary research supporting its existence or efficacy. Most of the evidence comes from early studies. While raw milk advocates often cite the Wulzen factor as a reason for consuming unpasteurized dairy products, regulatory bodies continue to support pasteurization to prevent foodborne illnesses, citing the lack of scientific consensus on the benefits of the Wulzen factor.

Interestingly, both Rosalind M. Wulzen and her longtime colleague and lifelong friend Alice M. Bahrs lived almost 100 years. Both made it to 98, which is not a common feat. It would appear that they may very well have discovered a key factor in greater longevity and quality of life if it were demonstrated that they were actually smoking what they were selling. Chances are they were.

Incorporating stigmasterol-rich foods into a balanced diet may provide these aforementioned health benefits, though it’s important to consider overall dietary patterns and lifestyle for optimal health outcomes.

The Primacy of Electrolytes and Hydration on Human Function and Life

Fluids, electrolytes, and acid-base physiology play a crucial role in maintaining overall human health and well-being.

Fluids, including blood, plasma, and interstitial fluids, regulate body temperature, lubricate joints, and facilitate waste removal. Electrolytes, such as sodium, potassium, chloride, magnesium, calcium, and phosphorus, help maintain proper fluid balance, nerve function, and muscle contractions.

A delicate balance of electrolytes is essential for optimal organ function, including heart rhythm, nerve transmission, and muscle contraction.

Acid-base physiology regulates the body’s pH levels, ensuring that the blood remains slightly alkaline (pH 7.35-7.45).

Imbalances in fluids, electrolytes, and acid-base physiology can lead to a range of conditions, from mild dehydration to life-threatening illnesses such as sepsis, electrolyte imbalance, and acid-base disorders.

Furthermore, disruptions in these physiological processes can have broad impacts on overall health, affecting energy production, immune function, and even cognitive performance. Maintaining proper fluid, electrolyte, and acid-base balance is essential for optimal human health and well-being.