Jang the Careful (Cat Propaganda)

“Oh, I’m such a stinky little cat. Stinky, stinky, stinky!”

Jang had forgotten to use the litter box again and was beside himself with shame. Six months of potty training and he still made a mess this morning on the kitchen floor. 

What will the others think?

A moment later, the answer came…

“Jang, have you lost your mind?! Our humans will stop feeding us. They’ll throw us outside to hunt rabbits. We’ll starve!”

Able to hear predators from 3.14159265 miles, Rudy Cotton made plans to move his family back into the woods. Human gardens were tempting, yes, but a wise father always weighs the risk/reward ratio of any good thing. 

“All the summer carrots in the world can’t atone for a pride of vicious predators poised to pounce,” he reasoned.

And so Rudy was off to consult Gramps on his plan to move back home…

The old rabbit spoke carefully. “Voices of the future have you heard.” He waddled over to the refrigerator. “Fleeing from danger, are you? But into greater danger will you run, my young Rudi.” Gramps stroked his whiskered chin. “Consider the sea turtle…” 

“Born is she, beneath gull and talon. Into dark waters she must flee. But swallowed there she be, by fanged monsters and the finned. And so should she wonder, ‘If from the beach I had not wandered, living would I now be?'”

“Stop trying to sound like Yoda, Gramps.” Rudy could take only so much. 

“You’re not even doing it right,” Rudy said, but as fast as he’d said it, he wished he hadn’t.

“I’m sorry, Gramps. Your Yoda is OK… No, really.”

And so Rudy, Gramps and the whole Cotton family carried all their things back into the woods.

Meanwhile, Jang the Careful redoubled his effort to use the litter box.

And forever after, he stayed strictly out of trouble with his human family.

“For caution is the very signature of wisdom,” he would often say.

The end.

M. Talmage Moorehead


Solar Bankruptcy

Not that you need one more thing to worry about, but with Earth’s magnetic shield weakened by 9 to 15 percent, and scientists saying that in the next 15 years or so another coronal mass ejection like the Carrington Event of 1859 will probably fry all the bank computers and wipe out the records of our financial holdings, maybe it’s time we made some simple adjustments.

Like hoarding freeze-dried food, buying noncollectable silver coins, and learning how to grow vegetables?

I don’t know.

Another option would be to believe those who tell us that the circuit breakers in today’s grid will protect us. “I’m sure we’ll all be perfectly safe.”

Either way, this video is an important message from a bright young mind…

It’s charming how Anton Petrov smiles right through predictions of global disaster. From his LinkedIn page, he appears to have a Christian background of some sort. All the more reason to appreciate his delivery, says I.

For people of faith, it’s tempting to use any dire warning from scientists as a springboard to proclaim superiority: “If God allows this, so be it. I have bigger fish to fry… spiritual fish.”

From studies outside my expertise, I strongly suspect that Noah and his flood story were not mythical inventions but historic realities, at least in the broad strokes.

If this is right, the religious elites of Noah’s day surely said to him, “Have a little faith, old man. Stop worrying about the things of this world and get rid of those stinking flamingos.”

Back in the day, when the fundamentalist church I belonged to was transitioning from “salvation by works” to “salvation by faith,” the reformers abhorred Benjamin Franklin’s words, “God helps those who help themselves.” They would have disliked the original Greek saying even more, “The gods help those who help themselves.”

But Ben and the Greeks were right, I think. Noah would have agreed. And James, too.

Speaking of James, what do you make of this, attributed to Jesus in the apocryphal Gospel of Thomas:

“No matter where you come, it is to James the Just that you shall go, for whose sake heaven and earth have come to exist.

Wow. I mean, geocentric religion is one thing, but the whole cosmic enchilada was created for brother James?

It reminds me of how some Christians think that their church is the most important thing in the Universe from God’s perspective. “And don’t be ridiculous, there’s no way God would let my church be devastated by a blast from the sun.”

Maybe that’s right. But possibly that belief will someday be about as apocryphal as the Gospel of Thomas and the near-divinity of James.

So maybe it would make sense to care about solar activity and prepare for what’s coming.

Love and solar prepping,

Morrill Talmage Moorehead, MD


Genocidal Racism? The case of the missing Vitamin D Research

I just found this important video:

This man, Dr. John Campbell, is a clinical nurse who is apparently using the title “Doctor” appropriately for modern times. I mention this because I mistakenly assumed he was an M.D. in a previous post. Sorry, this just shows my age.

Anyway, in the first part of this video, which is an excellent deep-dive into the groundbreaking paper I spoke of in the last post, Dr. Campbell suggests that there’s something sinister going on at the highest levels of healthcare…

It’s something that could be interpreted as racism with genocidal intent on the part of the international healthcare authorities.

In essence, Dr. Campbell senses conspiracy in the quite apparent reluctance of mainstream medicine to run definitive vitamin D trials on COVID-19 patients, despite the evidence in its favor. Dr. Campbell doesn’t mention racism directly, but points out the disproportionate numbers of deaths in the Black and Hispanic communities. Then he focuses on the inexpensive nature of vitamin D, leaving the listener to connect the dots to Big Pharma and the money they stand to make with a patentable drug cure, vaccine, etc.

This left me thinking about corporate elites, racism, and a conspiracy to commit genocide.

Is it just me? Probably.

Dr. Campbell has been talking on YouTube for many months about the logic and the literature evidence favoring the use of vitamin D for COVID-19 patients, especially those patients with darker skin who are at greater risk of vitamin D deficiency, and at much greater risk of dieing of COVID-19 (not by coincidence, it turns out). In light of the first small clinical trial of Vitamin D, there appears to be a cause-and-effect link here.

Ordinarily, I don’t put the brakes on a perfectly healthy conspiracy theory. To me, genuine conspiracies are common. Unless I’m mistaken, the CIA’s official job is to conspire against all perceived and potential enemies of the US. They didn’t invented the term “conspiracy theory” but there’s an internal CIA memo that uses the pleural form “conspiracy theories” in explaining how to prop up the mainstream version of the assassination of President John F. Kennedy. As far as I know, their official job isn’t to influence public opinion, though they seem to believe it is. We’re told that conspiracy theories were considered a normal part of analytical thinking until the late 1950s, when delving deeper than a sports reporter became stigmatised.

But in the case of the missing Vitamin D research, I think we might NOT be dealing with an elite’s racism or genocidal intent. I think there’s a simpler explanation.

One of the first things they drilled into our heads in med school was “supplemental vitamins are hogwash.” There was one exception: pregnant woman needed extra folate to prevent neural tube defects in their babies. It probably pained the professors to admit this, but it was the exception that proved the rule for them.

“Taking vitamins just gives you expensive urine,” they said. The frightened, exhausted students laughed politely, but all such jokes have a powerful indoctrination value.

Remember the shame of letting anyone know you thought UFOs were real five to 15 years ago? That feeling came from jokes at the expense of the “crazy people.” You didn’t want to be one of them.

In the medical community, the vast majority of doctors don’t have time, curiosity or energy enough to read. Big Pharma comes by the office (with food and gifts in the old days) and presents their own funded, peer-reviewed literature about their own drugs. This is the real “continuing medical education” for many doctors in the US.

This is how many, if not most, MD’s have maintained an ignorant certainty about the uselessness of vitamin supplementation. To solidify that certainty, most of us have lectured family and friends on the subject many times, glad to be seen as an authority capable of debunking the entire over-the-counter pill industry.

In the old days at LLUMC, there was one doctor on campus who bravely bucked the anti-vitamin dogma and lectured med students on the benefits of vitamin supplementation. What an unsung hero!

He was the common brunt of jokes among the faculty, residents, and medical students.

Years later, when I was an attending pathologist, I said something positive about vitamin C. A young pathology resident across the scope looked at me incredulously. “You don’t believe in vitamins, do you? You don’t agree with Dr. ____?”

I asked him if he had read a single article of basic research showing the effects of vitamin supplementation on laboratory animals. He admitted he hadn’t. I told him he should read before making up his mind.

“But you don’t think Dr. ____ is right, do you?” he asked.

“He’s more right than the rest of us,” I said.

The resident shook his head in disbelief. What a disappointment I’d become.

And so it goes. The carefully ingrained prejudice against vitamin supplementation, drilled in by Big Pharma for decades, still exists around the world.

This is the true cause of the reluctance of those in authority to run large, so-called “definitive” clinical trials of Vitamin D on COVID-19 patients. Or am I wrong?

The “deep state/cabal/military-congressional-industrial complex” will probably never admit that they’ve been lying to us about UFOs since the 1940s.

Similarly, mainstream medicine couldn’t possibly relish the thought of demonstrating to the world just how fatally wrong they’ve been in their crusade against vitamin supplements.

Why not send a link of Dr. Campbell’s video to anyone you know who might not be taking vitamin D yet? You might save their life.

Love, Sunshine and Vitamin D3,

Morrill Talmage Moorehead, MD


Vitamin D Cuts the Severity of COVID-19 in a Clinical Trial !

The scientific evidence for taking Vitamin D to decrease the severity of COVID-19 continues to come in with this prospective clinical pilot study (randomized and blinded).

Here’s the link: https://www.sciencedirect.com/science/article/pii/S0960076020302764?via%3Dihub

Results…

“Of 50 patients treated with calcifediol, one required admission to the ICU (2%), while of 26 untreated patients, 13 required admission (50%)… p < 0.001.”  

Conclusion…

“Our pilot study demonstrated that administration of a high dose of Calcifediol or 25-hydroxyvitamin D, a main metabolite of vitamin D endocrine system, significantly reduced the need for ICU treatment of patients requiring hospitalization due to proven COVID-19. Calcifediol seems to be able to reduce severity of the disease….”

Note:

The stuff they gave the trial patients in this experiment was Calcifediol (also called “Calcidiol” and 25-hydroxyvitamin D). It is not vitamin D2 or D3.  Instead, calcifediol is the hormonal form of vitamin D that the liver makes from vitamin D2 and D3. This hormonal form is then converted in the kidneys to the active form, calcitriol (25-hydroxyvitamin D).

Ordinarily, vitamin D2 and D3 come from the diet and the sun, but the mainstream is now beginning to admit that many, if not most of us, are NOT getting enough vitamin D without supplementation, whether D2 or D3.

So which is better, D3 or D2 supplements?

There are conflicting studies. The mainstream now says it probably doesn’t matter, but this could change next week.

I take D3 this week.

Keep in mind that genetic SNPs are still being regularly ignored in almost all randomized clinical trials. This is the fundamental weakness of almost all mainstream clinical medical literature, especially when negative findings are touted as proof that a treatment or supplement is worthless to every individual in the entire world.

A possible example of this ubiquitous error might be evident in my experience with ginkgo biloba.

Out there somewhere in the ether there’s a randomized clinical trial that has “proven” (to the mainstream medical community of overworked, under-appreciated drones) that ginkgo biloba doesn’t help anyone’s memory. Don’t waste your money, right?

And yet with my unique list of genetic SNPs, when I took Ginkgo back in the 1990s, I was astonished that I could, for the first time, remember where I had parked my car in the VA’s vast parking lot. I could visualize my parked car and its location effortlessly when I walked out into the darkness after a day’s work.

Anecdotal evidence is not rubbish. They call it “evidence” for a reason.

For what it’s worth, Dr. Amen (of the Amen Clinics) says that in all of his (broad) anecdotal clinical experience, the most normal looking spect brain scans he sees tend to come from patients who have been taking ginkgo biloba.

Rubbish? Not in my book.

Fortunately, the vitamin D clinical trial mentioned above showed strong statistical significance. If it had not, it would have been widely quoted by the mainstream as “proof” that taking vitamin D supplements for COVID-19 is a waste of time.

Since the future studies of Vitamin D and COVID-19 will involve larger numbers of randomized patients whose genetic differences (SNPS and epigenetic markers) will be ignored as usual, as if non-existent, it is likely that the statistical significance of the benefits of taking vitamin D for COVID-19 will be lower (a higher p-value) than we see in this small study with its strikingly significant (low) p-value of less than 0.001. (The higher the p-value, the more likely the results are due to coincidence, of course.)

But if significance disappears in larger trials, don’t let it convince you that Vitamin D supplementation “is now known to be of no clinical benefit for COVID-19 patients.” That would be rubbish.

The more they homogenize the genetic differences of populations by including larger and larger numbers of random individuals in clinical trials, the less likely something that helped a few genetic outliers in a small study will show up as statistically significant. And the thing is, many of us are “genetic outliers” in one way or another, because there are so MANY genes.

Here’s an analogy: in surgical pathology practice it’s common to see rare tumors. But isn’t this a contradiction? If you see them a lot, how could they be rare?

A pathologist sees rare tumors fairly often because there are a huge number or different varieties of rare tumors. You may see only one case of bilateral pheochromocytoma in your lifetime, but the next day you will probably see some other rare tumor that you’ll never see again.

The current black-and-white world (of mainstream clinical trials) that foolishly ignores genetic diversity to everyone’s detriment will someday change and become a joke for first-year medical students.

Not a joke, a grim anecdote.

Like the one about…

How we used to go from the morgue to the maternity ward in the 1840s without handwashing. Mainstream doctors did this, literally killing countless women by inoculating them with bacteria that caused “childbed fever.” All this, while ignoring the fringe voice of Ignaz Semmelweis and doing everything in science’s dark tradition to ruin the careers of the fringe, in this case, the Father of Handwashing.

How dare anyone challenge the settled science of miasmas with this fringy bacterial nonsense?

Love and good health,

Morrill Talmage Moorehead, MD


Material Girl from Medusa Merger

I blacked out on the first drop of the Kingda Ka, probably the meanest roller-coaster in the world, Six Flags in New Jersey.

I didn’t realize it, but I sort of switched places with myself. It was like I had always been here inside this little spaceship, looking out at the back side of the Moon with some hot blond alien girl. Her name was Shibani.

Sweet.

We’d been talking awhile.

Her hair was yellow-blond, you know? Not white. Her eyes were violet and familiar, both rare on Earth.

“You gotta be kidding,” I said when our conversation came back to me. “You’re a materialist?” A disgusted expression came over me, but I pulled back fast. “The best physicists I know say materialism is dead and gone.”

“Yes, but I’m not that breed. Space-time isn’t flat.”

Her lips didn’t move, but I could hear her voice. Worse yet, it seemed normal.

“My people believe energy is conscious.” She pointed a thin index finger at the ceiling and twirled it. I found myself staring.

She had no fingernails!

Pretending it didn’t matter, I said, “But if energy and mass are interchangeable, you’re saying everything here is conscious, right? Like this goofy chair.” I leaned over and patted the arm of a child-size chair like the one she was sitting on. “Does this thing have a mind of its own? If a Jewish man in a moment of weakness builds a statue of Buddah, bows down and worships it… is it thinking, ‘Don’t get too attached, dude”?

She laughed. “Consciousness collapses when the wave function collapses.”

Out on the back side of the Moon, an asteroid smashed into a giant spherical structure. An astronaut in a stay-puff suit stumbled away from the edge of a small new crater. I blinked and tried to ignore my desire to help the poor guy. What could I do, anyway?

“So light is conscious until someone measures it, huh?” I pulled my eyes off the moon and gave Shibani the skeptical eyebrow thing. I’d practiced that expression for months so I could do it on command. Well worth the effort now.

“There’s individual mind and Transcendent Mind,” she said. “Before a light wave collapses into a particle, it carries Transcendent Mind and exists independently of the space-time interface. When a light wave comes into contact with an individual mind in space-time, it joins this realm and becomes a measurable photon. The Transcendent Mind vanishes, and now it’s part of the physical context we call the Universe.”

I had a physicist friend, Don Hoffman, who talked like this.

Or did I?

I tried to picture his face, but couldn’t. It was like trying to remember a dream from last week.

I tried to picture my family, but each of their faces had faded into a tan fuzz.

I remembered my Hopi friend, Joy Pisano, telling me that when someone dies without being prepared for the next life, that person wanders the spirit world looking for familiar things, haunted by vague memories.

Was this happening to me now? Was I dead?

I looked out beyond the edges of the Moon for the Earth but couldn’t find her anywhere.

If only this girl had fingernails, I wouldn’t be all alone.

Shibani, what are you?

No, don’t ask. Just breathe. Don’t panic, be conceptual.

“OK, so does this mean the Universe is a simulation?”

“You could say that.” She cupped her palms, held them up facing each other and fluttered the fingers of her right hand. “From here, the Universe is as real as love and suffering. As real as good and evil.” Then she fluttered the fingers of her left hand. “But from beyond the interface, the Universe is all good, just another option for personal growth. A simulation, you might say.”

“What type of growth are you talking about?”

She pointed outside at the astronaut, now lying flat on his back, motionless beside the new crater. A woman with no spacesuit came up from the underground, knelt beside him and collapsed over his body.

“This Universe develops courage through love and suffering.”

I awoke with stars curling through my head. We were at the bottom of Kingda Ka’s first drop and barrelling on to another splendid terror. The girl beside me, Amanda Stanly, had her eyes closed and a grip on my right hand. I squeezed her fingers, pulled them up to my lips and kissed them.

Fingernails! Jet black and perfect.

A sense of relief flooded over me from head to toe, like the welcome tendrils of a hot shower on a frosty winter morning.

An image flashed into my head, and my phone signaled a text…

I fumbled a hand into my coat pocket, pulled out my phone and glanced at the screen as another set of G-forces arrived. The phone slipped away and flew off into the night, but I’d read the message.

Love from Medusa Merger.”

M. Talmage Moorehead