Arnold Ehret Prevails

Arnold Ehret (1866-1922)

I confess. I always considered Arnold Ehret some kind of German science moonbat. A health loon. I've know about him since the 1970's, in particular his claims about the benefits of a mucus-less diet. And now. I am impressed actually impressed.

It seems I'm running my own Detox center. Not drugs or alcohol. But obviously I'm not using either. Here's the story: I've got a horrendous cold, so I've tried some expensive OTC things (which made it worse and made me hate big Pharma even more) and then about a week ago I just stopped eating. Yes, I did eat those macadamia nuts last weekend. Yes, I did eat that soup. And the rice. Yes, I did nibble on some things last weekend. But otherwise, nada, zilch, bupkis, nothing. Just water. Meanwhile, I think my body has decided that I am crazy, that I am trying to starve it into submission. It's therefore not shedding much weight. It's hoarding fat, I hear it mumbling, "What a crazy guy he is. He's gonna try to starve us to death. Hang onto every fat globule you can, as if this were the battle for Stalingrad. He'll stop eventually. He always has before."

I'm not trying to lose weight. I'm not crash dieting so I can wrestle at 142 pounds. No. I'm trying to stop this ridiculous hacking cough, the running nose, the occasional low grade fever. And my current strategy is a water fast. Sitting in bed. Sleep when possible. Drinking water. This has the side effect of detoxifying me from the last 1 1/2 years of gluttony and bad diet. I mean: I really enjoy the taste of those spicy short ribs, but is this a really good idea? And do I really think we should open another bottle? Somebody has brought the bill to my table and I'm paying it in kind.

This requires patience. Or insanity. Meanwhile, I can report one wonder: a small sip of water is a glorious, sensual experience. You can feel the sip spiral beautifully down and around your insides. And it wakes up every spot along its journey. Water has never tasted so incredible.

Maybe there will be more if this continues into the weekend. Meanwhile, I do not desire food.

What, No More Office Supplies From Drug Companies?

The New York Times reports:

To Lehman Brothers, Linens ’n Things and the blank VHS tape, add another American institution that expired in 2008: drug company trinkets.

Starting Jan. 1, the pharmaceutical industry has agreed to a voluntary moratorium on the kind of branded goodies — Viagra pens, Zoloft soap dispensers, Lipitor mugs — that were meant to foster good will and, some would say, encourage doctors to prescribe more of the drugs.

No longer will Merck furnish doctors with purplish adhesive bandages advertising Gardasil, a vaccine against the human papillomavirus. Banished, too, are black T-shirts from Allergan adorned with rhinestones that spell out B-O-T-O-X. So are pens advertising the Sepracor sleep drug Lunesta, in whose barrel floats the brand’s mascot, a somnolent moth.

Some skeptics deride the voluntary ban as a superficial measure that does nothing to curb the far larger amounts drug companies spend each year on various other efforts to influence physicians. But proponents welcome it as a step toward ending the barrage of drug brands and logos that surround, and may subliminally influence, doctors and patients.

This means two things to me, personally. First, it means that that dark blue Prozak mug needs to be stolen from the Public Defender's Office tomorrow because it will eventually be an important relic. And I want it. And second, it means that Goldstein, Bernardo and Quinn bail bondsmen extraordinaire (I really do like them) are unchallenged and retain their paramount position as my favorite suppliers of pens for 2009.