.dropcap {float:left; color:#4791d2; font-size:75px; line-height:60px; padding-top:4px; padding-right:8px; padding-left:3px; font-family:Georgia}

Google+ Followers

Endless

Monday, December 19, 2016

Reduce Disease and Death Risk with a Handful of Nuts Daily │ Inclisiran: Newest Incredibly Risky Cholesterol Med │ Benefits of 'Loving Kindness' Meditation

Gosh, I could have gotten to bed last night before 11:00 p.m.; but then I got involved in responding to an E-mail, and my bedtime turned out to be well after 11:30 p.m. ─ maybe even closer to midnight.

I rose once during the night around 3:30 a.m. to deal with clogging nasal passageways.  I could hear it lightly raining outside on the accumulated snow.  Although sleep thereafter was intermittent, at least I was comfortable in bed.

I had a dream that I sure wish I could recall the details of.  It involved verging on becoming intimate with a brunette with a lusty physique who was apparently someone from my past, but darned if I can bring to mind just who she was supposed to be. 

I think it was around 7:38 a.m. when I finally decided to rise for the day.  My youngest step-son Pote was up.  His girlfriend had been here last night, so she must have had to get away to work early this morning ─ he was alone.

He left in his older brother Tho's car just after 1:30 p.m., so I hope he has gone to work and I will have some of the afternoon all to myself.

I put more work into the post I began on Thursday at one of my hosted websites.  And I tried to use a new plugin Amazon has put out called the Amazon Associates Link Builder.  Unfortunately, I am one of very many attempted users who have met with the following error message:
Your AWS Access Key Id is not registered as an Amazon Associate. Please register as an associate at the respective endpoint.
It is registered, though.  I can see it in my U.K. Amazon account, and I have the confirmation E-mails from them ─ one declaring "Welcome to the Product Advertising API," and the other "Welcome to Amazon Web Services."

I have two Amazon accounts ─ the U.S. version as well as the U.K.  Each has a different E-mail address.  But I only used the credentials associated with the U.K. account, and selected the option to have the plugin zero in on that specific Amazon.

If no solution easily presents itself soon, I will just delete the plugin and give up on the U.K. Amazon.

The temperature is so much milder today.  I haven't noticed it raining, but the air is heavy with moisture.  Still, I know that my younger brother Mark will have faced many issues today as he drives his big cargo truck, and makes pick-ups and deliveries to various businesses and business loading docks. 

The snow hereabouts still appears to be about six inches deep.

Last evening in his drunkenness, Mark was bitching at me that when he and his girlfriend Bev are set to come over on Christmas Eve so they can prepare a Christmas turkey dinner the following day, the kitchen counter had better be cleared of dishes.

It's stacked with them right now.

I just ignored him, although I was fuming within.  He knows bloody well that it's my two step-sons ─ and the youngest one's girlfriend ─ who slop up the kitchen.  

He finally got the jump on my eldest step-son Tho soon after when Tho came into the kitchen.  I heard some of what Mark was impressing upon him concerning keeping the counter clear for the weekend, and Mark even said something about him leaving Tho in charge of this project, and Tho is to kick Tho's younger brother's ass if need be.

Before I move on, here are a few more photos taken on (I think) October 30 when my wife Jack and some of her family visited the ruins at Ayutthaya in Thailand. 

I was not there, so I do not have any idea what this modern temple is ─ that is Jack's sister Penn in these first photos, standing at the left; her son Daniel is in the striped tee-shirt; and my wife Jack is at that sort of 'tree':


▌▌▌▌▌▌▌▌▌▌▌▌▌▌▌▌▌▌▌▌▌

I think I am going to have to see if it's financially feasible for me to keep myself in a stock of nuts so that I can have some on a daily basis.

A recent analysis of numerous studies was published proclaiming some amazing health benefits of just a small amount each day.  These reports speak of the analysis:

Newsmax.com

Imperial.ac.uk

Until recently I was eating peanut butter on an almost daily basis, but I have cut back a bit because I have essentially dumped bread from my diet.

This is the tail-end of the study:
In conclusion, our results provide further evidence that nut consumption may reduce the risk of coronary heart disease, stroke, cardiovascular disease, total cancer, and all-cause mortality, and possibly mortality from diabetes, respiratory disease, and infectious disease. In 2013, an estimated 4.4 million deaths may be attributable to a nut intake below 20 grams per day in North and South America, Europe, Southeast Asia, and the Western Pacific. These findings support dietary recommendations to increase nut consumption to reduce chronic disease risk and mortality.
Isn't that fabulous?

😟😟😟😟😟😟😟

Are you or anyone dear to you concerned with getting cholesterol levels low?

If so, how encouraging is this announcement about a medication called Inclisiran?  

CBSnews.com

I guess the usual medications doled out for cholesterol-lowering are a daily thing, so only having to worry about one's cholesterol medication a couple of times a year must be a great deal!

Or maybe not.  Take a look a this alternate view of the lauded PCSK9 inhibitor

HSIonline.com

I have no idea what my cholesterol levels are, and I have no intention of ever finding out.  The field is one big money-maker for the Pharmaceutical Industry, and is mostly based upon lies and deception.

😟😟😟😟😟😟😟

Despite believing in the undeniable health benefits of  meditation, I have never attempted it.

There is a specific type of meditation called "loving kindness" or mettā bhāvanā that looks very interesting to me, but I never seem to have the time to get at it.  I don't have enough time in my day to do the things I already feel that I must.

If you are not as harried as I feel myself to be, perhaps you may find the following article reporting on its benefits to be of value:

HuffingtonPost.com

They screwed up the heading for benefit #10 ─ the last thing one wants is anything that shortens the length of telomeres.

Dr. Marc S. Mocozzi offered these steps on how to make loving kindness mediation a daily ritual:
Here's how to start:
  1. Sit in a comfortable position with your eyes closed. Take a few deep breaths.
  2. Think of what you want for your life. Is it health? Peace? Love? Hold that thought.
  3. Repeat to yourself silently, "May I be healthy (or happy, or peaceful, etc.)." If your mind wanders, gently bring it back to your wish for yourself.
  4. Picture someone you care about. Repeat the same phrase for that person, while holding his or her image in your mind: "May you be healthy."
  5. Now picture someone you don't have any feelings about—maybe the person who was in front of you in line, or the barista, at the coffee shop this morning—and direct the wish to him or her.
  6. Think of someone you have negative feelings toward (the obnoxious in-law you'll be sharing Christmas dinner with, or a boss or co-worker you are sure to encounter at a holiday affair) and direct the wish toward him or her.
  7. Now direct the wish toward the whole world: "May everyone, everywhere be happy (or healthy, or peaceful, etc.)."
  8. Slowly open your eyes and return to your day, keeping this expansive feeling of benevolence with you.
I think you'll find that when you regularly practice loving-kindness meditation, every day of the year is the most wonderful time of year.
And if you want to get some deep insight into this form of meditation, a chap by the name of Keith William Brown published a thesis earlier this year titled A Phenomenological Study of Loving Kindness Practice in Education Settings.  

It appears to be a very good read ─ but be warned that it is a 154-page .pdf document.

▌▌▌▌▌▌▌▌▌▌▌▌▌▌▌▌▌▌▌▌▌

'Tis time now for me to close with a journal entry from 41 years ago when I was 26 years old, and living in a basement housekeeping unit in New Westminster.

I was renting those small quarters in a house located on Ninth Street, one or two houses up from Third Avenue.

I worked just one day a week ─ generally Friday ─ for a New Westminster charitable organization called S.A.N.E. (Self Aid Never Ends) that is today known as Fraserside Community Services Society.  I was a swamper on S.A.N.E.'s blue pick-up truck.

In those earliest years, they were located in a building on Carnarvon Street, pretty much right where the New Westminster SkyTrain Station now opens up onto that same street. 

I had gone to bed at 7:45 p.m. the evening prior to this entry.
FRIDAY, December 20, 1975

Last night I had a bit of trouble getting asleep due to excitement over my book lists.

Then at an unknown late hour that I later learned to be perhaps 11:40 p.m., came awakening persistent window taps.  Stupid with sleep, I went and opened up my door, fearing my father was out in the cold and needed a place for the nite; but it was Art!

He needed a drinking companion, and refused my refusals as he cajoled, wheedled, and tried to drag me bodily; however, his sotted mind finally accepted my decision, and he left.

Apparently he had called during the day.

Anyway, now once again I could not sleep, and I had a pretty bad night, finally arising about 4:00 a.m.

Since, I was affected with distressing indigestion, and suffered till my breakfast about 8:15 a.m. or more.  I ate, somewhat apprehensive of the future of my affliction.

That hardening I heretofore mentioned is as prominent as ever.

When I opened the door to leave this morn, I found a note printed on my door from David asking I come visit him at his new residence; he'll be at the "Y" till Boxing Day, the rent being $200 monthly, and he requests I visit.

Anyway, I went to Woodward's and bought a $5 American money order for H. Warner Munn's The Banner of Joan; this bit of irresistibility leaves me with very scant cash.

I dropped off my declaration form at the welfare, then went to S.A.N.E.

My partner was a new kid; friendly, if juvenile; I never got his name.

We messed about with a bed by Queens & 8th, then wandered about the high school seeking some food donations for hampers, then made a light pick-up at 820 - 6th Ave.  

Some rye & 7-up was bought as errand for Shirley and delivered, we returned to the store and unloaded, then Esther discharged me, asking I come in Tuesday and assist delivering hampers.

At Safeway I bought some rye flakes and beef heart (total of $1.68), and came home.

It has been thickly fogged the whole time.

I was home before 1:00 p.m.; my heartburn was heavily threatening, but remained bearable.

I possess now $2 free cash.

At 2:00 p.m. I lied down to nap, arising..., having awakened to the belief I was abed for the night. 

I had a good supper tonight:  1 cup of soy beans, ½ cup of wheat grains, and my c. ¾ lb. of beef heart, simmered together as soup for 2 hours.

Bed at 9:00 p.m. 
I had written that I rose "about 1:50 p.m." from that 2:00 p.m. nap ─ an obvious impossibility.  So since I have no way now of knowing exactly when it was that I really did rise, I just left out mention of the time.

Art Smith lived in a home he was renting ─ he was in his early 40s, married, and had three kids.  We had gotten to know one another as co-workers at S.A.N.E.

I enjoyed drinking with him at his home, but he had gotten too insistent about my participation.  And he was a bugger to turn down ─ he would dominate my will with his own.

It had gotten to the point that if I knew he was at the door, I would not respond if I did not believe that he knew for certain I was there.

Because I preferred to pick my company, I had my window covered tight with blanketing to deny anyone the knowledge of me being home if I had a light on.  Folks closest to me had distinctive knocks, and/or they would call out so that I knew who was trying to visit.      

The hardening I mentioned as being "still there" was what seemed to be a calcified vein stretching the length of my penile shaft right from the foreskin ─ it had just seemed to appear overnight several nights back. 

I loved books.  I longed to be rich one day and be able to have my own huge personal library somewhere.  But instead, I was to lose most of what I had collected together ─ some tough times were ahead for me.

Woodward's used to be located on Sixth Avenue where the Royal City Centre Mall now is.  I think they may have served as a postal substation, so I was able to buy international money orders there. 

I was employed with S.A.N.E. through an employment initiatives or incentives programme in place between them and New Westminster social services.  As a result, I received a pittance ─ perhaps as little as $50 ─ each month for the days I would put in at S.A.N.E., and also received the going social assistance rate for a Single person. 

But I had to submit a monthly declaration to social services in order to maintain my status.     

By the way, Philip David Prince was an old friend I had known since Grade VIII when we both found ourselves attending Newton Junior High School during the 1962/1963 school term out in Surrey.  He had been living in various rooms in New Westminster for several years at this point.  

I had been living in New Westminster since (I think) sometime in 1969.  I have no doubt that David moved there in order to be near me ─ he had no other lasting friends.

The driver of the S.A.N.E. truck on the days I worked was usually Esther St. Jean, an extremely likeable woman in her early 40s.

I was now down to $2 to my name, with Christmas just ahead. 

I feel rather sorry for my younger self that back then I thought that soy beans were good eating.  I had no idea that they contained pseudo-estrogen in the form of isoflavones.  And of course today, most soy beans are now genetically modified (as in GMO), as well as soaked with chemicals like glyphosate.
Post a Comment