The Twelve Days of Poxmas

Because we have a vaccine now. 

Some parents think holding "pox parties" to deliberately infect other people's kids with chicken pox - a usually mild but very uncomfortable disease with long-term complications - is preferable to having a quick jab. Perhaps they think the vaccine is more dangerous than the disease (it isn't). Perhaps they think it'll all be over in a week or so (it won't). Perhaps they think nobody ever dies from chicken pox (they do). Perhaps they don't think. 

Anyway, Pox Party Parents: this little festive jingle is for you and your poor kids. 

On the first day of Christmas my Mum’s friend gave to me,

A flatlining E-C-G.

On the second day of Christmas my Mum’s friend gave to me,

Sore, crusty eyes

And a flatlining E-C-G.

On the third day of Christmas my Mum’s friend gave to me,

Mouth ulcers

Sore, crusty eyes

And a flatlining E-C-G.

On the fourth day of Christmas my Mum’s friend gave to me,

Permanent scars

Mouth ulcers

Sore, crusty eyes

And a flatlining E-C-G.

On the fifth day of Christmas my Mum’s friend gave to me,

Neur-al-gia

Permanent scars

Mouth ulcers

Sore, crusty eyes

And a flatlining E-C-G.

On the sixth day of Christmas my Mum’s friend gave to me,

Bleeding disorders

Neur-al-gia

Permanent scars

Mouth ulcers

Sore, crusty eyes

And a flatlining E-C-G.

On the seventh day of Christmas my Mum’s friend gave to me,

Weeping pus-filled blisters

Bleeding disorders

Neur-al-gia

Permanent scars

Mouth ulcers

Sore, crusty eyes

And a flatlining E-C-G.

On the eighth day of Christmas my Mum’s friend gave to me,

Febrile convulsions

Weeping pus-filled blisters

Bleeding disorders

Neur-al-gia

Permanent scars

Mouth ulcers

Sore, crusty eyes

And a flatlining E-C-G.

On the ninth day of Christmas my Mum’s friend gave to me,

Nausea and shingles

Febrile convulsions

Weeping pus-filled blisters

Bleeding disorders

Neur-al-gia

Permanent scars

Mouth ulcers

Sore, crusty eyes

And a flatlining E-C-G.

On the tenth day of Christmas my Mum’s friend gave to me,

Encephalitis

Nausea and shingles

Febrile convulsions

Weeping pus-filled blisters

Bleeding disorders

Neur-al-gia

Permanent scars

Mouth ulcers

Sore, crusty eyes

And a flatlining E-C-G.

On the eleventh day of Christmas my Mum’s friend gave to me,

Bloodstained sheets from scratching

Encephalitis

Nausea and shingles

Febrile convulsions

Weeping pus-filled blisters

Bleeding disorders

Neur-al-gia

Permanent scars

Mouth ulcers

Sore, crusty eyes

And a flatlining E-C-G.

On the twelfth day of Christmas my Mum’s friend gave to me,

Viral pneumonia

Bloodstained sheets from scratching

Encephalitis

Nausea and shingles

Febrile convulsions

Weeping pus-filled blisters

Bleeding disorders

Neur-al-gia

Permanent scars

Mouth ulcers

Sore, crusty eyes

And a flatlining E-C-G.

Scat.

Because poos ain’t poos.

Sooner or later, every Facebook discussion turns to shit. Yesterday, my friend Jo, who is a nurse quite familiar with the workings of the bowel, practically dared me to write a pome about the brown stuff. I so seldom get the chance to take up a dare these days, so I thought I would re-invent The Bristol Stool Chart in rhyming ploplets. 

You know. 

For shits and giggles. 

One is separate rock-hard lumps, and very hard to pass.
Two’s a lumpy sausage shape, a strain upon one's arse.
Three is like a chocolate bar, but cracked (not hard or knobby).
Four is smooth and serpentine, an easy-going jobbie.
Five consists of clear-cut blobs that don’t require a push.
Six has fluffy edges, ill-defined and boggy mush.
Seven’s got no shape at all; a watery suspension.
If you’re not doing threes or fours, your tummy needs attention.

Illustration by Jo Thornely (a completely different Jo)

Predictions

Because hurt feelings can't stop an epidemic.

Let's have a little look at how science works. 

1. Scientists observe something happening, and form a hypothesis about why. 

2. Scientists test the hypothesis by trying to make the same thing happen under controlled conditions.

3. If the same thing happens again and again and again while testing the hypothesis, scientists can make predictions about it happening in the future. 

4. If the predictions come true, the scientists are happy and the world has a tasty new morsel of knowledge. 

Now, let's apply this to something real, like, say.... a vaccine. 

1. Scientists observe that, when a high enough proportion of a population is vaccinated against measles, the disease virtually disappears from that population. Maybe the measles vaccine helps prevent measles?

2. Scientists test the hypothesis by measuring the incidence of measles in populations with a high percentage of vaccinated people compared to populations with a low percentage of vaccinated people.

3. Again and again, scientists find that, in highly vaccinated populations, measles outbreaks are small and rare, and in populations with low measles vaccination, lots of people get measles. They predict that in the future, when the percentage of vaccinated people drops below a certain amount, measles outbreaks will occur.

4. Late last year, a person infected with measles visited Disneyland in California - an area with a reasonably high proportion of vaccine refusers - and infected other people with measles. Quite soon after that, lots of people got the measles. 

Something else scientists could have predicted: The usual suspects of vaccine denialism began bending all the available information about the Disneyland outbreak to fit their pre-conceived idea that unvaccinated people have nothing to do with outbreaks of disease, and that relating an outbreak of disease to unvaccinated people is UNCOOL and HURTS PEOPLE'S FEELINGS. 

I totally understand that the feelings of people who go to great lengths to deny the effectiveness of vaccines might be hurting. And I totally don't give a rat's arse. If loads and loads and loads of studies have found that measles outbreaks occur more often in unvaccinated populations, and you continue to deny that the current US measles outbreak has anything to do with unvaccinated people, there's not much I can do to help you. If you're cranky because science disagrees with you, tough. If you're out of sorts because diseases don't comply to your special view of the world, too bad. If the well-supported theory of herd immunity gives you a frowny face, cry me a frikkin' river. 

But cheer up a little bit, because I wrote you a pome.

You can’t bring a cat to a dog fight

To watch it get mauled

And then act all appalled

At the dogs disobeying your rules.

You can’t throw a fridge down a staircase

And protest when it breaks

Because gravity makes

No exceptions for self-absorbed fools.

You can’t stick your hand in a blender

Then demand some redress

For the blood-spattered mess

‘Cause you liked how it was at the start.

You can’t help your kids catch the measles

By refusing a vax

In the face of all facts

But deny that you played any part.

When scientists make a prediction

Like the tides of the seas

Or the spread of disease

They’ve seen it again and again.

But your pox-ridden family is special!

And although their afflictions

Comply with predictions

YOU’RE RIGHT, and you’re going to complain.

Back.

Because ow. And not in a James Brown way.

Sciatica’s stuffed up my dance moves;

I can’t do a twirl or the splits.

The pain of the Rhumba

(primarily lumbar)

Is starting to give me the shits.

There’s little love left in my Tango;

My Robot is rusty with risk;

I’m thinking of stopping

My locking and popping

Before I go slipping a disc.

I’m likely to slow down a hoe-down;

My boot-scootin’s way out of line.

I’m mostly forgoing

Large-scale do-si-do-ing

For lack of a flexible spine.

My Nutbush is nearing its limits;

The shake in my tail feather’s shrunk;

My Bird doesn’t fly

And my Sprinkler’s gone dry

And there’s bugger all funk in my trunk.

My verterbrae won’t be found Voguing;

I won’t do a dip or a spin;

No tap-step-ball-change

Will be part of my range

Until this Ibuprofen kicks in.

What not to do.

Because people really do these things. 

I am constantly astounded by the things some people are prepared to do in their search for enhanced wellness. I understand that pain, frustration, desperation and fear of death are pretty solid motivators to try some out-of-the-ordinary treatments, but surely even the strongest emotions can be subdued for the few seconds it takes someone to ask themselves, "Should I really stick this enormous needle in my cock?"

So here's my advice:

Don’t smear flesh-dissolving ointment on your cervix.

Don’t squirt warm, organic coffee up your arse.

Don’t treat pain by drinking widdle.

Don’t tie magnets ‘round your middle.

Don’t let someone bleed your scalp into a glass.

Don’t push someone else’s turd through your intestines.

Don’t stick burning bits of fabric in your ear.

Don’t scull silver for infection.

Don’t inject your own erection.

Don’t drink bleach to make your tumour disappear.

Don’t inflate a small balloon inside your face-hole.

Don’t drink crushed, diluted bees to cure the ‘flu

Don’t use beads to help with teething.

Don’t quit food and drink for breathing

‘Cause they’re really rather stupid things to do.

Don’t seek medical advice by browsing YouTube.

Don’t believe what chefs and wellness gurus say.

Don’t think maybe you should try it

‘Cause a movie star stands by it.

If it seems a little dodgy, run away.

Wind

Because wind turbines cause complaints.

I was stopped by a short-beaked Echidna this morning;

He seemed rather strange in the head.

He offered a somewhat discomfiting warning:

“BEWARE THE WIND MONSTERS!” he said.

“They’re enormous and pale, and swing huge chopping blades,

While emitting a terrible sound.

Which, although you can’t hear it, covertly pervades

All the air and the sea and the ground.

“They spread terror and sickness and fierce discontent

Through low frequency rumblings and stealth.

And these things,” said my new friend, “might seem innocent,

But they’re terribly bad for your health.

“They make people grow old at a much faster rate,

Skin is wrinkled and dark hair turns grey.

They make some people fat, and still others lose weight;

In a strange and unnatural way.

“They disrupt people praying and upset the Chi,

There’s teeth-grinding and crying aplenty.

And the people who used to get up for a wee

Once or twice in the night, now need twenty.

“They bring hip pain and breast pain and general malaise,

And the growth of some organs is stunted.

They give people odd spasms that go on for days

So their townsfolk assume that they’re munted.

“They cause strange, shifting rashes and retching and sores

And a notable change in one’s faeces.

But it’s not only humans who suffer, because

The Wind Monsters aren’t fussed about species.

“All the bees and the worms and the crickets have gone

Sheep deformities seem to have spiked

All the livestock are jumpy, and won’t walk upon

Bits of grass that they once rather liked.

“Dogs eat pebbles and find they can’t jump anymore;

The lifecycle of crabs is left hanging;

Lungs explode inside bats; puppies piss on the floor;

And the peacocks and peahens aren’t banging.”

“Are we safe?” I inquired, “Should we hurry inside?”

I was then quite reluctant to stay.

“Well, I’d like to go home,” the small mammal replied,
“But I can’t seem to work out the way.”

Recently, I was lucky enough to attend a talk by Ketan Joshi, who knows an awful lot about renewable energy and its opponents. In this talk he mentioned the work of Professor Simon Chapman, who knows an awful lot about... well, as far as I can tell, everything. Professor Chapman has compiled this list (PDF) of health complaints associated with wind turbines, from a range of sources around the world. I was already interested (in a busy-working-mum sort of way) in the science and not-so-science of wind turbines, but when the phrase "echidnas losing their way" came up in Ketan's talk, I knew I had to rhyme about it. Every single condition mentioned in this pome has been reported by real people who attribute it to wind turbines.

Illustration by the bestest twin sister in the universe,  Jo Thornely. See more here.

Therapy.

Because psychology has woo, too.

On Day Two of the Australian Skeptics National Convention last weekend, clinical psychologist Dr Garry Bakker talked about a range of treatments - evidence-based and otherwise - for depression and other conditions. Like many other areas of health care, psychology is not immune to the creeping influx of woo therapies that ebbs and flows as years go by. 

I studied just enough psychology at university to know that there's a lot more to it than most people who still think Sigmund Freud is relevant would imagine. While psychology has, historically, struggled to convince other doctrines that it is a real science, it can be scientific. But any practitioners who entertain therapies with no empirical evidence of effectiveness to back them up may, if you'll pardon the expression, get the hell off my lawn. 

Here's a wee pome I wrote about such a practitioner. 

Thank you, dear client, for coming to me

To discuss your continuing anxiety.

In a session or two, for a reasonable fee

I’m quite sure we can lessen your stress.

We can try a whole range of creative techniques

Some are new; some date back to the Classical Greeks

But I’ve tried them before, and in just a few weeks

Several clients reported success.

Now, although my advice might sound silly or wrong,

And you can’t see the purpose of playing along,

Anecdotally, evidence seems fairly strong,

So bear with me. Right, here’s what you do:

First, be mindful and challenge those negative thoughts,

While you sew a small crystal of zircon or quartz

In the hem of your jeans or a nice pair of shorts

And reprogram your neurons anew.

Have the static removed from the length of your spine

Try to keep both your feng and your shui in line

Mix with those of a fixed astrological sign

Picture me in a large purple hat.

Slow your thinking and exercise breathing control

Notice birdsong and breeze when you go for a stroll

Put three crow feathers into a platinum bowl

Give your sub-sternal chakra a pat.

Utter positive mantras and visualise calm

Wear a dove on an amulet wrapped ‘round your arm

Smear the end of your nose with olfactory balm

Drink some soothing valerian tea.

Shut your stress in a box by your bed for the night

Bathe your body in nut milk and indigo light.

Toss a mind-juggling ball right-to-left, left-to-right

Stick a needle or two in your chi.

I’m aware it seems strange to use such an array

Of unusual techniques when it’s safer to stay

With a method that’s tested by experts, but hey -

There’s a theory behind such a mixture

‘Cause I’m not very good at this therapy game

All these theories and systems, to me, look the same

But if somehow your symptoms subside, I can claim

It was something I thought of that fixed ya.

Name the Virus

Because good science isn't free.

The news cares not for sciencing;

Just rorts and Miley Cyrus.

You want to get involved with smarts?
Go here and Name The Virus!

Florey Institute researcher and general good bloke Dave Hawkes has, along with his colleagues, launched a project called Name the Virus, which seeks to raise funds for research into Big Important Diseases and other conditions such as anxiety, depression, eating disorders, strokes and many more. 

Says Dave of his work: 

"In order to help us, and other researchers, investigate what causes these diseases/conditions we create special types of non-infectious, non-disease causing viruses called viral vectors. These viral vectors can enter cells and change the way they behave; such as making those cells more or less active, or producing more or less of a specific protein."

He's much better at explaining what he does on the Name the Virus page,  and also using the sound of his voice here. 

Why "Name the Virus"? Because if you're extremely nice and donate money to the project, you can have the chance to put your name (or any other name you think up which isn't likely to offend anyone) to one of the Very Important viral vector thingies that Dave and his team develops. You can donate any amount from a couple of bucks up to a massive wad of cash, and receive a reward commensurate with your generosity, from public recognition to a lab tour and a home-cooked meal (because for this purpose, the Florey Institute's tea-room qualifies as a 'home').

GO.

I shall name him Dave.

Sorry. Work.

Because pomes don't buy as much food as other things do.

Sorry.

Work.

Lots of work.

Really great work for a top-notch client.

Designing e-learning modules from scratch

Might not be your thing

But it is mine.

And my oldest client

(The confidential one)

Sends me lots of copywriting to do.

I can’t tell you what it is, 

But it helps a lot at trivia nights.

Like the one a couple of months ago –

The hospital fundraiser.

I was on the ambo team.

We totally smashed it.

We beat the nurses, the doctors,

The admin staff – everyone.

We won chocolate and hats.

I’m also writing a weekly thing

About hot dead people.

It was my editor’s idea

But between you and me

I think she picked the right person to write it.

And I’ve only missed one

When my otherwise reliable heart

Went a bit funny in the muscly part

Of the left ventricle.

It hurt.

But having a paramedic for a partner -

Despite the night-shifts

And difficult-to-iron uniforms - 

Is pretty fantastic when your heart hurts.

Hospital was strange.

Stressful and frightening in some ways,

Relaxing and friendly in others.

It provided me with the opportunity

To remind the Emergency Department staff

How much they suck at trivia.

I’ll get better slowly.

In time to talk pomes

At a bunch of skeptics.

Lots of pomes, only half-hatched yet.

So there have been pomes

But not here.

Sorry.

Yo, Chiro.

Because chiropractors are the shizzle, so they tell me.

Every so often, a critical light is shone on the pseudoscience that is chiropractic, in particular the kind of chiropractors who claim that their brand of back-cracking can treat a wide range of conditions not even remotely related to the spine - claims for which there is no reliable scientific evidence.

The ABC's Catalyst program gave it a red hot go last Thursday night - you can watch it here for some rational and not-so-rational insight from both sides of the equation. It's worth it for spinal specialist Mr John Cunningham's epic face-palm alone.

My contribution, naturally, is to imagine what a chiropractor might say, if a chiropractor was also a rapper. Because it's high time chiropractors-who-are-also-rappers got a shout out on my diggety-dope blog thang.

Good morning, Ms O’Brien

I hear yo babby cryin’

You say she ain’t been sleepin’?

Her ear is sore and weepin’?

Don’t need no vaccination

It’s just a subluxation.

I gotta trick

Imma go CLICK

Imma go CLICK with my magic stick.

Lie down please, Mrs Proctor

You say you saw yo doctor

And gots a diagnosis

Of Endometriosis

Well put that quack behin’ ya

‘Coz I can realign ya.

I gotta knack

Imma go CRACK

Imma go CRACK on your healthy back.

I gots my awesome knowledge

When I went to a college

And studied for my final.

I learned all things are spinal,

And some joints are asthmatic,

And sickness is just static.

I gots degrees

Imma charge FEES

Imma charge FEES like da real GPs

So if you’re feelin' funny

Then gimme all your money.

Come see me every ten days

I’ll send you for some X-rays

Entrust your health to me, bro,

It works just like placebo!

You gots da ills?

Imma send BILLS

Imma send BILLS for my badass skillz.

Thank you Meryl Dorey

Because she finally did something right.

Yesterday, NSW Health Minister Jillian Skinner introduced suggested amendments to the Health Care Complaints Act to NSW Parliament (Go read Reasonable Hank and Dr Rachie for more thorough treatment). 

In a nutshell, these amendments make it easier for the NSW Health Care Complaints Commission (HCCC) to respond to complaints about dodgy health service providers. Previously, a complaint had to be backed up by evidence that a health service provider had directly affected the care of an individual. If this bill passes, a complaint can be acted upon if the health of an individual is likely to be affected. 

A subtle difference, perhaps, but the wording of the current Act provided a loophole large enough for Meryl Dorey of the Australian Vaccination Network to slide through when she took the HCCC to court last year. And it was precisely that case that prompted the change. 

That's right. Thanks to Ms Dorey and her AVN, the government has taken a lot of notice of how easy it is for "health" "service" providers such as herself to spread misinformation and endanger the health of families without penalty, and it sounds like that's all going to change. 

I'd like to express my gratitude. This one's for you, Meryl.

If you hadn't thrown your toys at the Health Care Complaints Commission;

If you’d not made special pleading your relentless, lifelong mission;

Then our leaders might not know of your intention to mislead;

So thank you, Meryl Dorey. Thank you very much indeed.

If you’d done the thing that public health officials said you ought:

And just changed your site a bit, instead of taking them to court;

Then the legislation wouldn’t need to change the way it’s lettered.

So thank you, Meryl Dorey. We are very much indebted.

If you’d never bitched and moaned ‘bout how the government’s a farce;

If you’d not said Tanya Plibersek was talking out her arse,

Then they might be more inclined to let you do the things you’ve done.

So thank you, Meryl Dorey. Thanks a lot. I owe you one.

If you’d never drawn attention to the way you run your show;

If associates of yours weren’t just as dangerous and low;

Then they wouldn’t soon be answering to summonses and such.

So thank you, Meryl Dorey. Thank you very, very much.

While we're on the topic, go see the good folk at Stop The AVN, without whom there'd be a lot more anti-vax bollocks in the media. Go on. They're not nearly as nasty as Meryl says.

I love you to death

Because some people hate children so much they want to make them sick.

Millions of dollars are spent around the world every year trying to prevent children from getting sick. Medical research, education programs, vaccination programs, hospital facilities, public health initiatives and other projects exist, and are maintained, so that some of the most vulnerable people in the human communities we inhabit can be healthy, stay healthy and survive.

Some people want kids to get sick.

It's hard to believe, I know. Some parents will actively try and infect their own children with a vaccine-preventable disease in the mistaken belief that "natural" immunity (gained by catching a disease and letting it run its course, common complications and all) is somehow safer and more effective than being vaccinated (in which the same immunity is usually achieved with an almost infinitesimally small risk of dangerous effects). There are stories of "pox parties", where parents of a child infected with a vaccine-preventable disease will invite the children of other willing parents to gather together in the hope of exposure and infection. There are others where a dummy or lollipop that has been sucked or licked by an infected child will be enthusiastically shared by a parent with another child to facilitate the spreading of disease.

Most rational people think that making children sick on purpose is a horrendous thing to do.

Not Stephanie Messenger. Stephanie Messenger thinks it's a marvelous thing to do. So marvelous, in fact, that she's written a book that, as the promotional dross goes:

"...takes children on a journey to learn about the ineffectiveness of vaccinations and to know they don't have to be scared of childhood illnesses, like measles and chicken pox."

Titled Melanie's Marvelous Measles, this misguided turd of a book received a well-deserved drubbing by talented bullshit detector Tory Shepherd on news.com.au today, and a straightforward review by Skepticat earlier in the week.

It takes a special kind of love to treat your own children with such unfathomable disregard for their survival. I've tried to capture that special kind of love:

I want the very best for you, my child, as years go by.

I want to watch you play and grow,

And learn the things you need to know,

And tread where others fear to go,

And think, and wonder “why?”

But most of all, I hope you catch a bad disease and die.

I’d love to see your flawless skin pock-marked beyond repair,

With weeping sores, inflamed and red,

A throbbing pain inside your head,

Febrile convulsions in your bed,

And vomit in your hair,

Your throat constricted so you fight for every breath of air.

I want you to be paralysed and never walk again,

Your hearing to be almost nil,

Your lungs with fetid fluid fill,

Your heart to struggle, then be still,

Your body stiff with pain.

Encephalitis swelling your unknowing, tender brain.

Infection’s rife around us now - the time is opportune!

Don’t do what all the doctors say,

It’s really better Mummy’s way,

If all goes badly, that’s ok:

Dead children are immune.

Shush now and lick your classmate - It’ll all be over soon.

Scar.

Because it’s beautiful.

I’ve a mark upon my torso

Like a zipper, only more so.

It commences at my suprasternal dent;

Then continues down my centre,

Like a stocking seam is meant to,

Though its terminus is very slightly bent.

When I got it, I was nascent.

Had my doctors been complacent,

My life might have been as fleeting as a fart.

But persistent cyanosis

Meant a rapid diagnosis

Of a blocked pulmonary valve inside my heart.

Quite a fiddly operation

Soon restored my respiration;

My complexion turned a healthy baby pink.

Now I’m fixed, though I was broken;

And I bear a fleshy token

Of my short post-natal visit to the brink.

People might think I’m ill-fated

Or in some way mutilated

Or I don’t know when they’re trying not to stare.

But when I look, all I see,

Is just the provenance of me

And the nicest thing that I could ever wear.

With thanks to Drs Cartmill and Celermajer (senior), for everything.

Vaccination Saves Lives

Because it does.


A few posts ago, I mentioned that Meryl Dorey was speaking at the Woodford Folk Festival in Queensland this week. Thankfully, due to the efforts of many concerned and sensible people, her time spent spouting poppycock to the populace was reduced by festival organisers, and a group of grass-roots activists both within and surrounding the Stop The AVN facebook group got together and hired a plane to tow the message VACCINATION SAVES LIVES throughout Dorey's talk.

You can read all about it here: http://stopavn.com/vaccination-saves-lives/woodford-folk-festival.html

And get all the background here: http://wiki.mycolleaguesareidiots.com/DoreyAtWoodford.ashx

I'm jumping on the bandwagon putting in my two cents with a short rhyme, which should be entirely unnecessary for anyone with a rational approach to public health.

Yes, there’s a risk of an adverse reaction,
And yes, some of those need immediate action,
But really it’s such a diminutive fraction,
It’s riskier walking in rain. 

Yes, there are people who put money first,
And yes, there are doctors who may be coerced,
But the system discovers the worst of the worst
So respectable carers remain. 

Yes, there are those spouting cover-up claims,
And yes, they’re prepared to speak out and name names,
But they’re not whistle-blowers with chivalrous aims,
They are fools among whom stupid thrives. 

Yes, some diseases aren’t here anymore,
And yes, there are peer-reviewed studies galore,
Though the anti-vax canards keep making me snore,
It’s quite clear: VACCINATION SAVES LIVES.

Hayfever

Because allergies can bite me.

At the edge of the stratus-strewn skies,

Peeks a timid blue moon on the rise.

As the daylight adjourns,

My hayfever returns

And I want to stab out someone’s eyes.

Biscuit.

Because as long as I have one, I'm doing okay.

My skin is quite blotchy; my hair’s rather dull.

The hallmarks of aging envelop my skull.

Some bits of me aren’t where they once used to be.

But do you know what? I’ve got a biscuit.

My house isn’t lavish, I don’t have nice shoes.

I’ve never sailed off on a luxury cruise.

There’s no billionaire on my family tree.

But I’ve money enough for a biscuit.

I’m not chuffed with Labor; I don’t like the Libs.

I’m sick of the posing, in-fighting and fibs.

But I’ll always vote democratically

For the right to lay claim to a biscuit.

There’s crap on the telly and pots in the sink,

The clothes in the laundry are starting to stink.

But most of these things matter much less to me

Than obtaining and eating a biscuit.

It might seem quite silly, to give such import

To a trivial treat of the biscuity sort,

When people are starving and long to be free;

And can barely imagine a biscuit.

But as long as my troubles amount to the lack

Of a sugary, buttery, crumbly snack,

And whether to dunk it, or not, in my tea,

Then it’s quite a significant biscuit.

Because even if something went SPLAT in my head

And emergency staff brought me back from the dead,

My hospital treatment’s effectively free –

And they might even give me a biscuit.

Headache.

Because of earworms and Sean.

Yesterday, two things happened serendebipbipitously:
1. I had this Warner Bros clip playing in my head; and
2. My cyber-mate Sean mentioned that he had a headache.

I'll spare you the convoluted mental contortions that followed, and simply share the result:

My head has a terrible ache (it’s true);
There must be something I can take (or do);
A poultice or balsam or tonic that’s wholesome;
To give my poor temples a break (boo hoo).

Perhaps I’ll acquire some peace (somehow);
Through craniosacral release (what now?);
A magical curer could massage my dura;
And make throbbing areas cease (my brow).

My energy’s starting to wane (my chi);
Could this be the cause of my pain? (maybe);
If so, acupuncture might help at this juncture
It’s starting to mess with my brain (crazy).

Although all its claims are pretext (what rot);
I’ll try homeopathy next (or not);
I’m not a supporter of overpriced water,
But this ceaseless pain has me vexed (a lot).

This magnet I’ve got ‘round my wrist (my right);
Is able, I’m told, to assist (it might)
It’s in the duality of the polarity;
Now though, my symptoms persist (they bite).

The aching is here with me still, (drags on);
I might try this little white pill (anon);
It’s thoroughly tested and quickly digested;
Will it make me better? It will! (pain gone).

Real medicine vs Quackology

The difference is in the waaaaah!

I'm responding to a prompt from @drunkenmadman (who has been a busy little boffin lately) to blog about this story. It's an unfortunately-not-isolated incident of a manufacturer of a dubious health product throwing a hissy-fit and crying to their lawyer just because somebody had the audacity to expect their claims to have validity. It's the grown-up equivalent of a conversation that goes, "You're a poo-face!" "Am not! MUUUUUMMMMM!!!!"

Or to put it more poematically:

When medical scientists test a new drug
Just how do they have it appraised?
A Clinical Trial is performed to debug
Any problems or side-effects raised.

Phase I involves just a small sample, and that’s
To determine its safety and dose
And to see if what worked well in rabbits and rats
Works in people, or even comes close.

Phase II looks more closely at safety and such
And effectiveness measured all ‘round.
More subjects are used in Phase II, as that’s much
More complete and statistically sound.

Phase III is quite thorough, as one drug’s compared
To others in mass circulation
Much data’s collected and test results shared
To prepare for its use by a nation.

Phase IV kicks in once widespread use is effected
And long-term impact is assessed.
So if anything pops up that wasn’t expected
Those problems can then be addressed.

There’s only one phase in a quack’s evil plot
They claim that their magic’s good for ya,
And if anyone else dares to claim that it’s not
They get huffy and call in a lawyer.

Cough.

Sub (cough) heading

Apparently (cough) there's some k(cough) ki(cough) kind of virus going around (cough).





(cough)

Dear advocates of alternative natural wellness therapies,

I think we're on different essential energy frequencies. Or something like that.

You might think that western medicine’s foundations are quite shaky;
And that doctors are all ‘allopaths’ with methods that are flaky;
You might trust your health to cupping, iridology and reiki;
And avoid the chemist’s pill and surgeon’s knife.

But if you suffer from thrombosis or some kind of fibrillation;
If you get all pre-eclamptic at just 30 weeks’ gestation;
If you have a pneumothorax and it badly needs deflation
Then those scary doctors might just save your life.

You might think there’s a conspiracy to keep most people ill;
And that anyone who praises drugs is just a pharma shill;
You might think that chemo’s forced on cancer patients ‘gainst their will;
And iatrogenic deaths are through the roof.

But the facts are often bent to fit a pre-conceived idea;
And statistics oft elicited from anybody’s rear;
And one’s choice of words can conjure either confidence or fear;
So forget the fairy stories, give me proof.

You might think that ‘cause you read it on a website then it’s true;
And your neighbour’s cousin’s personal assistant said so, too;
You might think, if Oprah likes it, then that’s good enough for you;
And the case supporting what you think is strong.

But in scientific circles, more validity’s demanded;
And the evidential benchmark sits at quite a lofty standard
So if sources you present are not reliable or candid
Then for all intents and purposes, you’re wrong.