In Reply to: Re: Accutane-from the horse's mouth posted by Accutane on June 01, 1998 at 03:32:49:
Uh oh, we've awakened the acne gods again.
Orville, Wilber, or whatever your name is, I'll bet Kyra was reacting to the lame quotes in the article by a couple of the Docs. There is where the south end of the horse going north is revealed. Why just anonymously slap an article up, anyway? Help us get it right, what's your point?
And, Walt, imagine the arrogance of someone referring to a malady such as major depression, which admittedly afflicts 5% of the population, as "background noise". Now there’s capitalist inDOCtrination! It’s only background noise if it’s in your way. Don’t you think it would be nicer to refer to it as "elevator music"? (Oma Gretch, Am I punctuating right with these quotes? I get confused when the quote isn’t the whole sentence).
And to take yet another step adrift of the great accutane debate, doncha just love the signs the M.D.’s post outside their little clubhouse? Renowned Chair!? Would that be overstuffed do you think, or maybe winged? They are also fond of military nomenclature, i.e. Chief of Staff. I used to attend their weekly coffee and doughnut gab sessions in which they sometimes discussed patients as if they were background noise. They called these get togethers GRAND Rounds! I’ll bet you remember some other cool names they use, Walt.
They are the Lil’ Rascals grown pompus.
Jim
In Reply to: Re: The Lil' Rascals posted by Jim on June 01, 1998 at 08:27:21:
Jim,
I remember some of the names these sorts of docs would call their patients. The one that stuck with me was 'GOMER'. It represented the words -- Get Out of My Emergency Room. It was a descriptive term for the alchoholics, bums and other itinerants that used Emergency rooms for all of their medical care. Of course the docs that used this term didn't enjoy treating this often combative and usually smelly group of patients. There was also some frustration because if the doctor gave a prescription or casted an extremity it wasn't unusual for these folks to return to the Emergency room having not taken any of the prescription or have removed their own cast. In a word they were non-compliant patients and the docs resented wasting their time treating them.
Today the term GOMER is most often used to describe an old patient in a nursing home. Once again it is brandished when a patient is difficult to treat or does not respond well to treatment.
Look out. There is a new class of 'modern GOMER'S' that are forming today. They are folks with chronic diseases that aren't easily fixed and the allopathic monopoly hasn't a clue why. CFS, fibromyalgia, IBS, severe skin problems, allergies, arthritis, GERD -- the list goes on and on. The question is will we let our health care providers continue to label us as GOMERS so they can conveniently sweep their own failure under the rug?
Bob
In Reply to: Re: The Lil' Rascals posted by Robert McFerran on June 01, 1998 at 11:59:24:
Friends,
I tried my best to stay out of this discussion---you were all doing so well without me.
HOWEVER, I just couldn't resist adding my bit since it applies to so many conditions bb participants have found were resolvable after being told it was all in their heads by the omniscient doc.
We used to talk about people who "had a high serum porcelain level". This was routinelly directed toward those poor souls who had many different kinds of symptoms. The way we allopaths are taught, many different symptoms are impossible to deal with (our paradigm is too simplistic). SO, as is our habit, if we cannot figure it out it must be the patient's fault.
The holistic paradigm thrives on a multiplicity of symptoms since they tend to fit together and make a pattern. The more pieces the easier to tell what the picture is.
If you haven't yet figured it out, those people we labled as having a "high serum porcelain level" were "crocks". In medical parliance, a "crock" is the hypochondriac you send to the psychiatrist to get him/her out of your office.
The presumption of omniscience is a dangerous thing in a physician. Too bad so many of them have this affliction.
Walt
In Reply to: Re: The Lil' Rascals posted by Walt Stoll on June 02, 1998 at 13:12:15:
. . .that we're all crocked. Too bad only a few of us know it because we pushed the envelopes of our metabolisms too far, and had to try and find out what was going on with our wobbled-out satellites (aka bodies). It's going to be a rough haul, but it will be ever so important for those of us who gain understanding to help those in need when the accelerating stresses of modern life exaggerate the off-kilter orbits of most of the population. I thought holistic medicine was making great strides but got a wake-up call recently when someone with a couple of degrees or certificates asked to know about gut permeability on a holistic practitioners' list. Scary. Mary J.
Dear Jim,
Thanks, once again, for saying it like it is!
Is it any wonder that parents don't want to know that much of the aggression in schools, hyperactivity, learning disabilities, and the like, are caused by the inevitable brain chemical instability resulting from the "modern" diet. If they did, they would have to take responsibility for changing it.
Soon, only the genetically most resistant, to this kind of imbalance, will continue to function. They will be shot by the rest. The Bell Curve operates here too.
The real crime is that most people would sooner wring their hands, while children murder children, than learn what researchers have known for at least 40 years.
Namaste` Walt
Jim! The Truth is OUT THERE, where the paisano (road runner) picks scorpions off your rocks.
Now, where will we find a paisano to pick the FDA off *our* rocks? (Ye gods, I'm rimming the cup, here!)
Okay, no more triple entendres. Road runner eats scorpions because Trickster made too many. Trickster can appear in the guise of Kokopeli. Kokopeli plays the flute because he has no mouth. The FDA sings the Industrialized American Medical Song because they have no flute. Coyote sings because he would like to eat the road runner.
Now we have a circle.
When I think how many prescription meds there are, how much they cost, how little good they do, and how many people they kill, I think we are all in the hands of Trickster.
There is a solution; eat sensibly, drink spring water, take supplements wisely and let Weaver make a fine dream catcher for the windows of our lives; to keep in the good dreams and keep out the Feds.
Now, to go mix DMSO with vitamin E and try to Out these Damned Spots! Then we can organize a Beauty Way Sing and serve up some barbecued ribs. Unless you're a vegetarian, of course. (Apologies to any Dine' Singer who signed on here.)
/Grandmother Gretchen, about 1/32 "Northern Creek", aka Shavanaw Muskogee.
In Reply to: Wile E. Coyote and Acme: is this the FDA? posted by Oma Gretty on June 02, 1998 at 21:49:31:
Dear Oma Gretch, WOW! Opa Valt
In Reply to: Re: Wile E. Coyote and Acme: is this the FDA? posted by Opa on June 04, 1998 at 11:32:14:
"WOW"??? Opa, you just awarded me the Wild Obstreporous Woman award! /Oma Gretch, winner (they tell me at San Jose State) of more Bulwer-Lytton Awards for bad writing than any other idiot who was fool enough to enter.
In Reply to: Wile E. Coyote and Acme: is this the FDA? posted by Oma Gretty on June 02, 1998 at 21:49:31:
Dear G., Yes in deedy, Gretchen, let’s eat ribs and ponder entendres, for health is not our goal. (Illness can be so oppressive that it seems like it at times though). No doubt Coyote himself is behind our maladies. He steers us with humor, or failing that, drags us kicking and screaming down the hall to our fate. So, since, we can’t lose, (or win), since he herds us no matter what, let’s go ahead and do life as our hearts know it. Barbecue by all means, and sing, and love and help our family and friends. If meat is wrong, trickster can always stick it in our throat, or send a mad cow for us to munch! We’re so far down the page now, I doubt anyone is listening. That’s probably good too. Here’s a quote from someone somewhere which I have eaten and will now spit out: "We have been put here in this life to help other people. I’m not sure what the others are here for." Jim
In Reply to: Re: Guil E. Coyote ponders entendres posted by Jim on June 04, 1998 at 09:05:52:
Jim and Trish, you're bizarr-ly obtuse.
In Reply to: Re: Guil E. Coyote ponders entendres posted by Jim on June 04, 1998 at 09:05:52:
No Message Inside :-)
In Reply to: Re: Anxiety Attacks posted by Joe on June 07, 1998 at 00:50:17:
I am struck here by the beauty and diversity of life. To honor my revelation, I’m going to just insert a little plug here to bolster those who, like me, have grown to appreciate the joy of moderate exercise. The majority of people today sure seem to be rather sedentary and out of shape (except for forearms impressively muscled from the remote), and there looks to be a group at the other end of the spectrum whose world revolves around the pole star of exercise. Between these two is a group of undetermined size (to which I belong) who tend to plan their exercise around a well rounded but often busy life, busy with things unrelated to health and exercise. We are a timid lot, not wanting to lose our friendships with our sedentary friends, nor leave ourselves open for judgment and sermons from our frantically fit friends. We are a humble lot, occupying a difficult place. We have neither the ease of living of the aerobically disinclined, nor the moral and scientifically superior high ground from which the aerobically driven sometimes look down. Worse, moderate exercise is recommended my the A.M.A. We are guilty by association of consorting with the enemy. Still, in our own quiet time, we go about our light exercise of choice, balancing our wellness efforts with skilled relaxation, and diet and supplements designed to fuel nothing more than our diverse and balances lives. We don’t seek ecstasy or euphoria, but maybe it unfolds from our practice of meditation, or perhaps from the endorphins flowing from the laughter and pleasure in our daily life. Each of us has our own way. We are most alike in our diversity. We are the Great Silent Semi-Fit. It is not a life for wimps. We’re a courageous lot. Most importantly, we have not abandoned our sense of humor. Big summer vacation grin. Jim
In Reply to: Re: The Great Silent Semi-Fit posted by Jim on June 09, 1998 at 10:29:49:
Kyra
In Reply to: Re: The Great Silent Semi-Fit posted by Jim on June 09, 1998 at 10:29:49:
Thanks, Jim. Wellness is a journey. People have the right to pause along the way wherever they decide. Namaste` Walt
Dear Walt, Your upcoming trip, my past trip, recent postings concerning the religious taboo about meditation, and my own sense of relating to the personal value of images and visions have conspired to persuade me to post this at this time: The experience of holiness is timeless, and the urge to stamp it permanently on the side of a distant rock, high up where the whole picture becomes clear, is strong, hence petroglyphs. Still, there are closer spots where you don’t have to walk as far..... sacred spots are where you sometimes least expect them. The individuals who lived in societies we now call primitive knew of these "power spots" in nature. Even today in our "modern" culture, we acknowledge famous spots such as Shasta or Sedona. The truth is these popular sites are a bit puffed up with hype. One’s holy spot is wherever one finds it. You don’t need to climb a mountain or travel a I also experienced puppy love for the first time. She was a teenager, and it was my first "older woman" experience. She humored me and left me with my dignity intact by sending me on many errands that week (which I performed gallantly and proudly, not realizing my absence was her goal). Now it is summer vacation again, the ten week break from school every child yearns, dreams, and prays for, and it means more to me now than it did at as a boy. It is a leave of absence, a sabbatical, and a temporary retirement. I become a nomad, hobo, drop out. A summer off is: a long lunch, not coming back from lunch, calling in sick, b
In Reply to: Pier Review posted by Jim on June 12, 1998 at 12:02:43:
Dear Jim, Once again you have made my day! I continue to marvel at your clarity & wisdom. You have a special gift to which humanity desperately needs to be exposed. One of the reasons why most any place can be a "holy" place is that the REAL holy place is inside of each of us. Thank you, my friend! Thank you. Walt
Dear Walt, Thought you might like a little story today. Jim Grandpa and the Gooseberry Pie Percy Ira Wilhelm changed his name to Ira Percy Wilhelm. He thought that Percy was too sissy, so he decided to make Ira his first name and go by that. I never saw too much to choose from between the two names, but then, it didn’t make any difference to me, I always called him Grandpa. I remember him as a short, powerful man with forearms like Popeye, a cement mason, a man of the trade unions. Some of the older steps and sidewalks on the campus at U.C.L.A. bear the mark of his workmanship. Although he worked all over in Southern California for forty years, I think he was most proud of the campus, probably not as much for the workmanship as for the fact that he participated in bringing about a center of higher learning. He was an uneducated man but appreciated the value of an education. He sent his only daughter to school there for my father to meet. At five feet four inches tall, he was a dwarfish warrior in the finest Tolkein sense, large drooping ears and nose and a profoundly well defined male pattern baldness He sat in an old red leather chair. When I was around two years old, as the story goes, I tried to climb up the side of the chair and into his lap. His pipe holder and magazine rack were in the way, so he looked down at my failing attempts and said, "Oops, other side." I’m told that the next time we visited I ran immediately to the impossible side, put my hands up on the side of the chair, looked devilishly at him and said, "Oops, udder tide." Yes, his arms were strong, and his lap was safe, and I was Sunny Boy, and I could do no wrong. But everyone in the family knew that my game was to get him to get out of that chair so I could dig down the sides for the loose change. It was only many years later that I discovered he deliberately loaded his chair so I would be sure to find a treasure. He would sometimes leave a half dollar among the smaller pieces. A half dollar! That was wealth fit for a king! Grandpa meant many things to me. There was the .22 caliber rifle he gave me on my tenth birthday which signaled a stage in my manhood. There is the rabbit I shot when he took me hunting, and the remorse I can still feel at having to execute the poor creature that I had only wounded. Shooting an animal is a mistake I did not repeat, and I suppose that I did the proper and manly thing in at least bringing my mistake to a close by dispatching the wretched bunny, but that and my failing at the blood lust thing is another story. This is the story of the way in which grandpa characterized himself most clearly in my mind by a phrase of his own making. When we were kids, my sister put an avocado seed in a glass of water, suspending it with toothpicks so the roots would grow in the water and the stem would emerge from a crack at the top. To me it was a wonderous magic bean stalk rising to the giant’s lair. It was, I believe, a grade school science project. For a time it became part of the family, like a pet. I recall the lush leaves, backlit in the kitchen window sill in the morning. My father used to complain that his rank in the family’s consideration came after the avocado seed. Long after the demise of the avocado plant, he would still bemoan his status below the avocado seed. The term "kidding on the square" comes to mind. It refers to the unspoken element of truth in a joke. It was a family tradition. My grandfather, as my father had done, preserved his place in our family heritage by creating just such a self-identifying refrain. Like many other families, we had a large table feast as the crescendo of our holiday gatherings. As dishes were being cleared, the matriarchs hovered about the table taking orders for desert. "Pumpkin, mince, or apple?" went the phrase. "I’ll have a small slice of pumpkin AND mince," one would answer, or, simply, "I’ll have apple." Somewhere before my time, after one fateful aftern
In Reply to: Grandpa and the Gooseberry Pie posted by Jim on June 23, 1998 at 09:53:54:
Dear Jim, Such memories! You couldn't have known of my German ancestry being so much like that. Thank you so much! Opa Valt
.... or might you become a "skillful accident"? I'm reading the Mind as Healer, Mind as Slayer book and it is very compelling. Even my neurochemist brother (who works for the evil drug company) thinks the book's premis is valid and even explained how the fight/flight response actually works down there at the very bottom of the brain. I started some meditation a few years ago but have trouble actually clearing my thoughts and even finding the time to do it, considering I also have to run/cycle/work-out, go to work, raise kids, move, etc. I have not yet read the relaxation work books you reference but will do so next. So, do you think it is of any benefit to play some of those audio tapes that claim alpha/theta brain resonse while driving to/from work and thereby achieve some sort of skilled relaxation? I have a feeling NO because it must become "background" sounds if you are to also drive successfully. But then again, its probably affecting you some way, subconciously? Just a hopeful thought. Do any of you board followers take time during the day WHILE AT WORK to do this? Thanks Walt (et al) in advance for your reply.
In Reply to: Can you "skillfully relax" while driving? posted by Pete R on June 30, 1998 at 09:07:20:
I've found that I can do biofeedback safely while driving. It doesn't distract me nor does it put me into a deep meditative state. If anything, I find that it sharpens my driving awareness. Don't ask me how. As to doing skilled relaxation of any kind when I work, it hasn't worked so far. Maybe subliminal tapes would be of use while working to some people. Speaking only for myself, I don't respond well to subliminal tapes period. Hope this helps. Kyra
In Reply to: Can you "skillfully relax" while driving? posted by Pete R on June 30, 1998 at 09:07:20:
Pete, See, the problem is that meditation is so darned inactive. We don’t like that, do we, I mean, you know most of us don’t, do we? We think that doing active stuff is good, while doing "nothing" is a useless, or worse, unproductive. So even if we manage to summon our greatest discipline and set aside time for meditation, it is only with the implicit demand that we get RESULTS! With running, cycling, and working out (you mean weights, don’t you? or maybe aerobics?), we get sweat right away, our hearts pound immediately, we notice stamina soon, we see increased muscle mass, reduced fat, and so on. But with meditation, all we get is a bunch of thoughts bouncing around in our heads, and not a bit of evidence that anything at all is happening. Well, there may be very subtle things, minor physiological changes you can notice if you are very still and vigilant, but nothing like what happens in exercise, or even the kind of dramatic changes brought about my medications. We are a results oriented society, and we like to MAKE things happen. We are creative and energetic, with amazing will power and determination. Wouldn’t you agree? Anyway, I see people that way, in general. We are not always successful, but we sure try a lot. With meditation, however, there is a paradox. With exercise you grunt, strain, and effort to make things happen, but with meditation, you have to LET, things happen. It is most maddening to me that I must first rally all my will power to set aside the time to practice this most illusive discipline and then give up all expectation of results while I’m doing it! "Trying" and "evaluating" are just two more thought clusters to add to the legion of harpies who come rushing out as soon as I sit to practice "skilled" relaxation. Our demands, hopes, judgments, and agendas all conspire to wreck our best intentions when it comes to meditation. It’s annoying, and it makes us nervous because the act of meditating is so unlike the way we live the rest of our lives. It is no wonder we strap on masks to watch light shows, or don earphones and listen to strange sounds, or beat gongs, or chants meaningless mantras. These are the aspirins of the unrelaxed (*among which I count myself), but they help us achieve in an arena where achievement is actually a no no. I can fully relate to your questions about meditation in the car or at work. It is a reflection of the status in which we hold the practice. I have actually been somewhat successful at meditating in the car on the three hour trip I make across the desert to California. I don’t recommend it. What I do is work my eyes so I am aware of the farthest peripheral vision on both sides at the same time. The highway is long, straight, and usually empty, and I can see a general panorama of everything in front of me while focusing on no one part of it. This enables me to drive a straight line and seems to make it impossible to think those annoying thoughts. I don’t know if I reach alpha or theta, but I think there is a real possibility of reaching permanent delta in this way. I call this the Oopsilon state. It is sure evidence of how nuts I can be sometimes. And practice at work? Sure, I’ve done that too. Here’s what that says about me. Sometimes I have been willing to do meditation only if someone will pay for my time while I do it. I will redeem myself by saying that after eight months of sputtering, and somewhat comical adventures with meditation, I am able to begin warming my hands and lowering my pulse rate after only about a minute of sitting. So I do take small breaks of a couple of minutes at work when I can, but my real sit down times come in my private life. Maybe it is not too spiritually inflated or preachy of me to state that it is important to express a sense of regard for our practice of meditation in our actions. Seems so to me anyhow. Sorry, that did sound preachy, but I stand by it. Thank you for your stimulating post! Jim
T'waren't nuthin'. I was having a good writing day. Thank you.
Re: Guil E. Coyote ponders entendres
Posted by Jim on June 04, 1998 at 09:05:52:
EVERYBODY (Jim & Trish esp.) INTO THE E-MAIL!
Posted by Oma Gretch on June 07, 1998 at 14:58:16:
But we're getting boistrous where other people have serious troubles to answer. Meet me at the (above) address and we'll continue lobbing quotes.
JIM! I love your quote about "Others". Here's one, on the subject of altruism:
Will Rogers (on the subject of the rise of Hitler) - "I have never wished anybody's death, but there have been one or two obituaries that have caused me a good deal of quiet satisfaction."
When's the cookout? Remember "The bastings in life are free!" - NMI
Posted by trish on June 04, 1998 at 15:59:00:
Re: The Great Silent Semi-Fit
Posted by Jim on June 09, 1998 at 10:29:49:
Re: Following the middle path
Posted by Kyra on June 09, 1998 at 15:26:39:
Yeah, Jim!
Re: The Great Silent Semi-Fit
Posted by Walt Stoll on June 12, 1998 at 08:26:07:
Pier Review
Posted by Jim on June 12, 1998 at 12:02:43:
The Ancient People of the Earth sought contact with "clarifying visions" rather than seeking the "Void" in the sense of eastern meditation. Dreams, rites, ceremonies, dances, chants, pilgrimages, and signs observed in nature were all, in a sense, meditations which brought forth images. Just another way to the holy.
When I sit at a certain place here by the river, for instance, I can see this whole river-scoured valley as it once was, wild, before the dams, many channels, teeming with life. In those days before the taming, the river opened the earth, exposing strata of the past, and like the rings of a felled tree, the layers are a history book laid open. It speaks to me, and an ancient image appears, of whatever history it is that is moving through us all, and I am dragged along in its wake. In these breathless moments of realization, I see beyond the time of my Aboriginal ancestors, as if I’m looking out through the rounded opening of one of their squat reed huts. In the dust outside this opening are the many pounded footprints circling the cooling embers of a fire, powdery prints left during last night’s dancing testimony to a world too big, too ancient, and too holy to be held in words. I see out beyond the village into a dawn, to a glimpse of a time before the titans, before time even, that reveals a spirit of Earth ......as a cradle among endless suns. Such visions visit me in this place.
great distance, unless you feel that is what you need to do, in which case, you can go do it! I love a good pilgrimage!
Pier Review
The pier at Newport Beach lives in me as a memory of mythical proportions, so it is not surprising my recent visit there took on the essence of a pilgrimage. The pier itself was the centerpiece of a most magnificent vacation of my youth. The whole adventure happened in only one week. My father, the banker, dropped the family off the first weekend, joined us for a day mid-week, I think, and then came again the following weekend. What a time it was!
It was the Huck Finn time of my life. I roamed everywhere barefoot, even on the rough hot planks of the pier. I was maybe eight years old then, and I often "worked" that pier, pestering the fishermen and offering to clean the catch of anyone who would give me one of his fish for doing it. I could take my "earnings" home for my mother to cook. It was my first experience of being a "provider." Bringing home the bacon!
Re: Pier Review
Posted by Walt Stoll on June 14, 1998 at 09:15:45:
Grandpa and the Gooseberry Pie
Posted by Jim on June 23, 1998 at 09:53:54:
Re: Grandpa and the Gooseberry Pie
Posted by Walt Stoll on June 25, 1998 at 14:37:25:
Can you "skillfully relax" while driving?
Posted by Pete R on June 30, 1998 at 09:07:20:
Pete Reinhard
Re: Can you "skillfully relax" while driving?
Posted by Kyra on June 30, 1998 at 19:16:32:
Dear Pete,
Re: Reaching "Oopsilon State" while driving.
Posted by Jim on June 30, 1998 at 20:27:56: