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Monday, March 27, 2017

Biotech Industry's Plan to Feed You Fake Fish Oil ─ Twice Over │ Lauding Turmeric's Curcumin │ The State of Arthritis in America

I never made it to bed last evening any earlier than 11:00 p.m., but I thought that I slept rather well. It was at least 6:44 a.m. when I rose and commenced my day, mistakenly believing I was home alone.

I am still compiling content into the new post I have in the process at my Latin Impressions website, so I got busy with that. Soon, it was raining very hard outside, and this seemed to last for at least an hour.

Towards mid-morning I broke off from work on the post to see if I could limber up enough by moving about to both wake myself up again, and to find the wherewithal to undertake some exercise out in the backyard shed.

I had actually grown so very drowsy that I countenanced a return to bed ─ in fact, it seemed imperative. And I could not understand why, since I had thought that my night's sleep was better than usual.

I was in no rush to go out to the shed ─ that rain was formidable.

It was probably at least 9:20 a.m. when I finally changed into my cut-offs and felt able enough to handle the exercising; by then, the rain had reduced to inconsequence.

When I finished and was about to return into the house, I noticed that a light was on in my step-sons' den area. I correctly surmised that Tho had not gone to work. And he never did.

As usual, I don't know if he is just too damned lazy and didn't feel up to venturing out into the rain this morning (he has to use public transport, because he is serving a year-long driving suspension); or if he was notified that there was a shortage of work.

That latter seems unlikely ─ after a weekend, one would expect orders to have come in. It would more likely be a Friday when work orders would have become thin.

It's his life, of course. If he feels he can get away with shucking job attendance after being promoted to 'lead hand' last year, that's up to him.

I just don't like having my time home alone during the week snatched from me.

I finished the work I wanted to get done today at the Latin Impressions post, and then I dug into my brunch ─ my first meal of the day. And after that, even though that earlier drowsiness was banished, I felt that it was prudent for me to seek a nap.

It was only 12:05 p.m. by the time I was undressed and back into bed, but I was only to be there for little more than 40 minutes. I believe that I did succeed in a nap, but it was of surprisingly short duration.

And here I am at 1:47 p.m., working on today's blog post.

I had thought to open the post with a description of my younger brother Mark's condition last evening after he got home from the bar, but I shall say only that he is devotedly on the path to alcohol-induced dementia before he reaches the age of 70.

Incidentally, despite that heavy morning rain, I noticed sunny breaks late in the noon-hour, and they have carried over into the afternoon.

I wish now to present two photos of things that my wife Jack loves: flowers and food.

The photos were possibly taken on November 11, 2016. As to where, it likely was not far from her home village of Nong Soong (Thailand), which is a 15-minute or so drive from the city of Udon Thani:


If you are like me and consider wild fish oil supplements to be essential, I certainly hope that you focus on the fact that the fish source is indeed 'wild.' There just seems more and more reason to avoid anything to do with farmed fish where our diets are concerned.

Besides, it's getting to the point where plant-derived omega-oils are becoming risky from the viewpoint of those of us wanting to avoid anything to do with foods manipulated with genetic modification.

Heck, it's bad enough that much ─ probably even most ─ of the vitamin C supplements on the market come from genetically modified (GM) sources.

But getting back to the topic of  plant-based omega-oils and farmed fish, this is the latest twist that has inspired my comments:



I wish that I could relocate to some other world still in a virgin and Eden-like state. We're ruining everything in ours, and I want nothing to do with any of what's being done to it.


I always enjoy reading articles about the outstanding health benefits of the curcumin in turmeric, for that sort of information can always use some reinforcing. It's too easy to go on one's way and soon lose awareness of it.

And here is one of those informative articles:


I have read before that curcumin has been proven in studies to match the pain-relieving ability of certain medications.

That's all quite wonderful...but how does it apply in the real world?

Last month I was in such pain for just about a week from a large abscess that had formed in my left cheek as a result of a blocked parotid gland duct that I had no recourse but to resort to Advil.

Could something natural like curcumin have helped with that? After all, apart from anti-inflammatory qualities, it is also anti-microbial.

What these reports do not spell out is precisely how much turmeric a person would need to ingest in food in order to benefit from the things researchers learn about in studies. Could ingestion of an adequate amount on a daily basis even be done?

Or is it like the resveratrol in wine ─ a person would need to drink bottles of red wine all the day through in order to acquire therapeutic levels of resveratrol, and that is just an extremely unhealthy thing for anyone to be doing?

So I had no recourse but to take the Advil. I knew some liberal dashings of turmeric a couple of times a day in my food was not going to make even the remotest difference ─ I had already been doing that anyway.

I just wish I could read some specific quotes on amounts in these praises of curcumin.

By the way, I have read it suggested that there may actually be something else as yet undiscovered or unrecognized in turmeric that bestows some of the qualities being attributed to curcumin. So who knows?


America's Centers for Disease Control and Prevention (CDC) released this report earlier this month on that nation's struggle with arthritis:


Keep in mind that the figure in that title is just the number of Americans who find themselves limited by arthritis ─ more than twice that many actually have arthritis, but those others are not yet notably 'limited.'

If you are interested, here is someone's negative take on that report ─ and the CDC itself:


I won't even try to speak on effectiveness of that arthritis cream cited at the end of that report, but UC-II does seem to have merit. However, you apparently cannot just buy yourself some supplement that looks good ─ if the following undated report at JonBarron.org is correct, you are going to have to carefully put some effort into studying just what is on the market: Benefits of collagen type UC-II include joint and cartilage repair.

So don't go snapping up what looks like some good deals where concerns this supplement. You may well be tossing away your money, gaining very little of any benefit.


And now 'tis time to close out 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 paying rent for my small hideaway in a house located on Ninth Street, and maybe a couple of houses up from Third Avenue.
SATURDAY, March 27, 1976

I roused about 6:40 a.m. after a beautiful night's sleep.

I, after overeating, did a lot of work on a letter to Jean.

Boy, I've had a boring day!

I'm hoping I don't have any visitors this evening wanting me to participate in Aunt Georgie's and Cousin Dianne's arrival in the area.

My freaking lousy complexion just won't let up; I am anxious to begin my regimen of a protein diet and muscle activity April 1.

I saw Sandy Duncan ─ fabulously adorable ─ starring as Pinocchio on a 90 minute TV special; it was well worth being here for.

I'll bed down about 9:45 p.m.
The letter was to one of my three American pen-pals, Jean M. Martin (née Black).

My maternal Aunt Georgina Halverson and her eldest daughter Dianne were coming out to Surrey to visit from Calgary. Both my mother Irene Dorosh and another sister ─ Nell Halverson ─ were then living in Surrey.

Actress Sandy Duncan was pretty darned cute. I always liked her.

I have had a poor complexion since adolescence that has remained with me all of my life ─ to one degree or another. I have only ever looked healthy and attractive when my face has been richly coloured by the Sun. However, back then, I also resorted to a sun lamp ─ I had been doing so for about half-a-dozen years.

This past Saturday evening, I shaved ─ I had been growing a goatee since sometime in January, and my cheeks were also heavily stubbled. It's well that I had no shopping outings planned, for I had forgotten just how bad my complexion is in the Winter when my blemished pallour is at its undisguised gruesomest.

I may get out tomorrow ─ at some point I have to get to Staples to print out a couple of charitable donation receipts (and a T4 for my youngest step-son Poté). I want to soon get to work on filling out income tax returns for my wife Jack and I.

We have an Epson WorkForce 610 All-inOne Printer, but I cannot print using black ink ─ the printhead's nozzles for black ink are blocked right up. It's unfeasible to try performing any nozzle-cleaning runs because it would probably use up several of the other ink cartridges ─ those head nozzles are seriously clogged.

I might eventually try what is suggested at InkMagic.com: How to Unclog Epson Printhead Nozzles. I just haven't taken the time to bother with it. Besides, I am unsure just how to distill any water ─ I don't want to buy any special equipment just to do that, for Pete's sake.

Also, I don't believe that we have any Windex.

If I ever get the nozzles all cleaned and the printer functioning correctly, I will try to print something colorful once a week just to keep things in working order.

Anyway, by tomorrow my face ought to have enough beard stubble once more to assist in camouflaging some of my dermatological imperfections. 

This section of my post was interrupted just ahead of 4:00 p.m. by my eldest step-son Tho. He invited me to partake of some pizza ─ he apparently sprang for two pizzas from Camy's Pizza. My opinion is that they are the best for pizza of any outfit hereabouts.

I see that he blew $37.10 for his order.

I had a couple of small slices while the pizzas were still warm, even though this means that I will have had three meals today. I normally eat just twice a day, but I am not about to skip my supper just because of this modest treat.
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