From The Mind Unleashed:
From The Mind Unleashed:
From The Mind Unleashed:
GSK wanted to keep the public from knowing about the adverse effects of their Infanrix vaccine. The secret report slipped out, and it’s revealing. It validates the recent study showing that multiple vaccine doses increase the death rate by 50%—but there’s no real change to the safety advice.
by Heidi Stevenson
Infanrix is a vaccine that was released without any serious testing for safety, in spite of the fact that it contains antigens of six diseases for injection into babies as young as two months. In a cozy relationship with government, GlaxoSmithKline (GSK) was able to keep information about harm from the public. Fortunately, that secrecy was broken with the leak of a report given to the Belgian government. It delineates 1,742 adverse events associated with Infanrix.
These are adverse effects that were reported to GSK. The information is not pretty—especially when you realize that the vast majority of vaccine injuries are never reported and that deaths counted included only sudden death. First, though, let’s just take a quick look at what the report admitted happened over the two-year period from 23 October 2009 through 22 October 2011:
That silly ol’ document showing all that nasty stuff that could happen? Don’t fret your little head over it! After all, you really weren’t supposed to know, anyway. Don’t worry. Trust us!
Naturally, not all the reported events were actually caused by Infanrix. GSK reported that the number of reported adverse events was only 14.6 per 100,000. However, as reported by Initiative Citoyenne, the doctors’ publication, Revue française du Practicien, reports that this figure is likely only 1-10% of the reality.
To read more click the link at the top!
Cancer is a growing worldwide epidemic, with staggering statistics: 20,000 people dying of cancer every day; 1 person out of 3 will be faced with cancer at one point in their life; and 1 million Americans are diagnosed with cancer every year.
The standard treatment for cancer has been the same for many decades and is comprised of surgery, radiation and chemotherapy, the latter two being toxic to healthy cells in the human
These treatments, as well as the research surrounding cancer, generate millions of dollars each year for the medical industry, with a typical cancer patient spending on-average $50,000 to treat the disease.
Over the last century, several natural cancer treatments have been developed and used to treat patients in the US and in other developed countries.
One example is a natural concoction of herbs called Essiac, created by nurse Rene Caisse in Canada in the 1920?s. Another is an herbal cure created by Harry Hoxsey, who funded clinics in 17 states before they were all closed down by the FDA in the late 1950′s.
And yet another is the Gerson Therapy, created by German doctor Maximilian Gerson, who was one of the first to suggest a nutritional approach to treating chronic disease in the 1940′s. You can buy the DVD at Amazon.com.
A fascinating documentary, “Cancer – The Forbidden Cures”, exposes the corruption of the cancer industry and the extreme measures they will undertake to discredit, imprison, and professionally destroy any physician who treats cancer patients naturally. (FULL LENGTH)
From Christine Farley:
Just in case anyone is thinking about using the new street drug Krokodil, here is what it does to you ALL OVER YOUR BODY!!!
From Elizabeth on SpiritualNetworks:
The trees they spoke to me
Along the rocky path they breathed
Whispers of a quiet mind
Leaves rustled my soul awake
Tears caught along the lines
Swarms scattered above my head
Dispersed at every breeze
Alive it was my heart at that very center
Vibrations emanating green
Oozed between the cracked bark
My back sturdy against the trunk
It said to me “you are”
and there was nothing else
In that contented moment
rom AsapSCIENCE — who have previously brought us the scientific cure for hangovers, the neurobiology of orgasms, and how music enchants the brain — comes this illustrated explication of the science of procrastination and how to manage it, a fine addition to these five perspectives on procrastination. Among the proposed solutions is the Pomodoro technique, a time-management method similar to timeboxing that uses timed intervals of work and reward.
Note from Ralphie: “I was severely disturbed to learn that procrastination is considered to be a bad thing!”
Human motivation is highly influenced by how imminent the reward is perceived to be — meaning, the further away the reward is, the more you discount its value. This is often referred to as Present bias, or Hyperbolic discounting.
For a more metaphysical take on the subject, see the fantastic anthology The Thief of Time: Philosophical Essays on Procrastination.
Instead of going to a pet shop, why not save a pooch or kitty from certain death? Show some kindness! Visit your local shelter.
From Sun Gazing
The boss says:
“You know Bob, I really need you today. When I feel like this I go to my wife, and tell her to give me sex. That makes me feel better, and I can go to work. You should try that.”
2 hours later Bob calls:
“Boss, I did what you said, and I feel great! I’ll be at work soon. By the way, you’ve got a nice house.”
for more http://highoctanehumor.com/
I went on a journey through a deep dream: down underneath the meaning of even the most trivial of things shines an inner beauty that truly gives sense to life. A forgotten message for most of us, luckily remembered by a select ancient few. Marlo Morgan went walkabout with them, this group of Aboriginals, who have a message for all us mutants, who have strayed from the path of connectivity with the universe.
Through Marlo’s writings shines an intrinsic humanity that is humbling an awe-inspiring. ‘Mutant Message Down Under’ is truly worth the read.
What with all the rules and regulations and safety features for kids nowadays, I wonder how I ever made it through childhood alive. When we used to climb trees, it was without a safety net, helmet or elbow and knee protectors. I guess you could say that we were a kind of little league SAS in them days. Our parents thought nothing of it. I toughened you up. If you got a cut or a bruise, somebody would slap on a band-aid, kiss it well and out you went again. Instead of going into observation for three days in the nearest hospital. Kids these days are wimps!
During school vacations we would hike through swamps and catch salamanders and maybe wrestle the odd crocodile…(just out of the egg ones, but still!) The municipal dump was out favourite playing ground, where we would drink toxic waste for elevenses. It gave all our gang three nipples, but who cares. We would bend metal bars with our toes back then. My Gran tought us to wrestle mature bulls to the ground, using only the one hand. Using two hands was for wusses.
When the lads and I passed a meadow with cows in it, we would go in and you might hear one mate tell the other: “Oy, pass me the udder, pal!” We’d eat mushrooms and wild flowers and we’d pee where we pleased. The local grizzlies were scared of us, cause we went armed with pocket knives. Many a fine day you’d catch us abseiling from cliffs or swinging across rivers on vines. And this even with a sore throat or a tummy ache.
In our teens we didn’t use conditioner, perfume or any of that carp. We smelled of honest, fresh sweat and afterwards of a good scrubbing with Sunlight soap. I won’t tell any of the young bucks that strut around now about the sex we had in them days, for it might give them permanent erectile dysfunction. Oral sex for young folks today is talking about it and I’ll bet they use lip-condoms for kissing. Nah, youngsters these days suck egg!
DEA: stick this in your pipe and DON’T forget to smoke it! Peace, Bros.
From Brave Mykayla:
Researchers at Harvard tested the chemical THC in both lab and mouse studies. They say this is the first set of experiments to show that the compound, THC actually activates naturally produced receptors to fight off lung cancer. The researchers suggest that THC or other designer agents that activate these receptors might be used in a targeted fashion to treat lung cancer.
Although a medical substitute of THC, known as Marinol, has been used as an appetite stimulant for cancer patients and other similar treatments, few studies have shown that THC might have anti-tumor activity.
*HERE IS THE INTERESTING PART* The only clinical trial testing THC as a treatment against cancer growth was a recently completed British pilot study. For three weeks, researchers injected standard doses of THC into mice that had been implanted with human lung cancer cells, and found that tumors were reduced in size and weight by about 50 percent in treated animals compared to a control group. There was also about a 60 percent reduction in cancer lesions on the lungs in these mice as well as a significant reduction in protein markers associated with cancer progression.
Picture a down and out bloke sitting in front of a BBVA bank in Alicante, Spain on a cold December night. He’s smoking a roll-up, waiting to bed down inside, after most people have withdrawn cash for a good night’s partying. A second homeless guy called Antonio shows up and asks if he can join him in there for the night. The first one doesn’t mind and the newcomer starts to tell how he was a blue helmet in Kosovo a couple of decades earlier.
A mate of his was on patrol in a deserted village, when he heard a baby crying. Just as he’d located the infant, who was lying amidst some corpses, he heard the rat-tat-tat of an approaching death squad. Which side they belonged to is neither here nor there, as both were equally gruesome. They would enter every building and shoot anything that moved, period.
The blue helmet took the baby into hiding and held his hand in front of its mouth to keep it quiet.(Where his buddies were at this time was never mentioned.) After the death squad had come and gone, the soldier found that he was holding a dead baby. Apparently it had a stopped up nose and had suffocated. The soldier felt horrible and kept saying: “I’ve killed a baby!” Antonio tried to console his friend by saying that he’d only tried to save it. The man wouldn’t have it and shot himself through the head two days after. With “War sucks!” Antonio, the ex blue helmet, concluded the first part of his story.
After steeling himself with two more roll-ups, he went on about how one day he’d witnessed a curious event: a group of armed thugs were marching a long line of singing children into a school building. On closer inspection, Antonio saw that the school was rigged to be dynamited with the children in it. When he radioed in the events, he was told to observe, but not interfere. He consequently feigned a radio malfunction and told his mates that he was going to stop this, alone if need be. His brothers in arms did not let him down: the children were saved, but lives were lost. Antonio received a dishonourable discharge for disobeying orders, lost his pension, lost everything and ended up on the street. Two decades later the horror of this war could still be read in his eyes.
The first homeless guy was yours truly, Ralphie, and for some reason I did not think to write about it then, last December. Now I wish I could go back, get the complete story, get it corroborated and published in some Spanish magazine or newspaper and hopefully help Antonio get back on his feet that way. I for one believe that this soldier deserves a second chance in life. If any reader knows of a way to bring this about, please do not hesitate to help right this wrong, for Antonio is still paying for his act of humanity and the army’s response to it to this day.
This morning July 15th 2013 at 08:15 AM my father passed away after three years of battling cancer. After his spirit had left his withered husk, he was left with a smile on his face, which gave us all a measure of relief. The medical staff wondered how he had managed to hold on for so long. He was a fighter, was my Dad.
I want to express my gratitude to the personnel of the palliative ward of the Aalst municipal hospital and of course to his wife and her family, whose efforts to make his final struggle easier went beyond anything that anyone could possibly hope for. I would like to thank my Dad for his wonderful job of helping to raise three wonderful grandchildren, who stood by him every step of the way. And of course for all the things that he passed on to my sister and myself during the course of his life.
His wish was to be cremated and for his ashes to be scattered in the same place as his parents, which will happen later on in the week. May they be reunited in everlasting peace and wait for the rest of us to join them at a later stage. Gran and Gramps, your boy is coming! Give him a big hug from all of us. He is sorely missed…
From Rayven Parker:
What you feel coming to you has no words, no shape or form. It’s the freedom of your own soul that you don’t know how to integrate yet as it is new to you. Don’t worry about your ego self. See the helpless child behind it that is trying to handle a situation that is beyond its ability. Do a meditation in which you embrace this child and let it know that it is loved but no longer has to do the job as the real power is home now. Then either integrate it in your heart or give it to the angels, >>>
The lengths that some people will go to in order to exercise their right to be silly is astounding. A blonde with a twist was spotted in a Murcia shopping street, but the lady in question was actually a brunette, who had paradoxically dyed the hair on her head blonde! It was her tiny mustache and her eyebrows that gave her away. No other tufts were in evidence, which was perhaps fortunate for her and the general public.
Obviously some members of the female populace no longer wish to be appreciated for their brains only, or maybe they think that they´ll have more fun this way. Have they forgotten that having more indiscriminate fun stems from an incapacity to comprehend the basic rule of cause and effect and a whimsical approach to the consequences?
Are they perhaps jealous over the lack of brunette jokes? It may also be that they feel left out, when they notice the increasing obtuseness displayed on the internet and wish to at least appear slightly dimmer than they really are. An insufficient exchange of bodily fluids with members of either sex is probably at the root of this remarkable display. One can only wish for them to get lucky very soon, before more mischief is perpetrated.
The author wishes to point out that he himself was actually blonde as a boy, but he hastens to add that his hair got progressively darker with age. He hopes that any occasional relapse, past, present or future, be overlooked and is eternally grateful that he has finally turned gray.
Earlier today I was feeling depressed over some depressing stuff, amazingly. I hardly ever get depressed over good things that happen to me, which is fortunate, therapy costing what it does. You may have guessed that my finances are in a slump and as a result so am I. My ears perked when I heard on TV that they are selling pills now that are absolutely guaranteed to cure any symptoms of depression and as an added bonus they are quite affordable.
I was just reaching for my cell to order this miracle drug, when I stayed my hand to listen to some minor side effects, which could accompany this medication. Apparently, they would render me blues-free and I would hardly care about my hair falling out and the cramps in my lower regions. That is, if I did not slip into a coma entirely or actually died, which would provide a more permanent solution to all my problems.
These miraculous tablets had not been tested on any poor animals, but a large group of inmates from a correctional facility had kindly volunteered for testing. Those that had survived had started a knitting society and were rather pleased with the treatment they had received and thankful for the wigs that the pharmaceutical company had graciously provided them.
That settles it. I’m ordering now, but I insist on my complimentary wig.
From High Existence dot Com :
Many people read about the benefits of meditating for 20 minutes each day and try to do just that, resulting in discouraging failure.
Meditating for 20 minutes the first time is like trying to bench 450lb on your first day at the gym. Or attempting a black diamond course your first day on skis.
It’s going to end in frustration and boredom, and will likely taint meditation for a long time. Meditation then feels like a difficult chore as opposed to something natural, centering and pleasurable.
Instead, shoot for just 30 seconds. Once you can go the whole time without your mind wandering, double the duration. Repeat.
When your mind does wander, don’t be down on yourself! Simply accept it and center your thoughts once more. Becoming frustrated about this will only set you back further.
You’ll work your way to 20 minutes in no time.
To read more interesting articles, check out the link above!
From mewold on EP:
A woman and a baby were in the doctor’s examining room, waiting for the doctor to come in for the baby’s first exam. The doctor arrived, and examined the baby, checked his weight, and being a little concerned, asked if the baby was breast-fed or bottle-fed. ‘Breast-fed, ‘ she replied.. ‘Well, strip down to your waist,’ the doctor ordered. She did. He pinched her nipples, pressed, kneaded, and rubbed both breasts for a while in a very professional and detailed examination. Motioning to her to get dressed, the doctor said, ‘No wonder this baby is underweight. You don’t have any milk.’ ‘I know,’ she said, ‘I’m his Grandma, but I’m glad I came.’
I have a ceramicist friend on Facebook, called Didier Gesqueire, who has started an initiative to help children with cancer. Any artist wishing to contribute can send one or more works of art to this man, after which the works are auctioned off and the whole proceeds go to the Belgian Children’s Cancer Fund(Kinderkankerfonds). He has received artworks already from artists all over Europe.
Who would not like to help these children, right!? I have not made any art in the last couple of years and I therefore do my bit by making this publicity for their cause. If you are interested in helping, please go to Kunst helpt kinderen(Art helps children).
Here is the latest artwork that was sent in by Cordula Kerlikowski:
I do not smile all the time! I have a choice. I could scream with rage at the injustice of some of the blows that life has dealt me (and I’ve lent a hand), but what would it change? Not one little bit!
On the other hand, I could (and I do) look for the beauty in every ray of sunshine and in every raindrop. Even in every teardrop, because that is part of the majesty of life!
I have learned to smile through my clown’s tears, because I KNOW that love is not gone. I have merely misplaced it temporarily. Not even that! I am experiencing it on multiple levels, every second of every day, because I am attuned to its music. It lifts me up out of the drudgery that some would force upon me. And it’s not so very difficult: I am just being ME! I say to everyone: take me or leave me, just the way I am.
Do you see my open hand? It is not empty! It is filled with endless possibilities and a capacity for tenderness that has made several weep for joy. So, what do you choose to see, just the air that surrounds the hand and caresses it or the good energy flowing through it? And if you lower your defences for just one instant, it might touch you in a way that would surprise you.
As ever, the choice is yours!!!
I know exactly on which day ‘forever’ falls. How do I know that? Let me tell you the story. I was in love with a woman, whom I thought was my twin soul. When I was with her, I could have sworn that she thought the same, silly me. Well, maybe she did but then, as is a woman’s prerogative and often man’s downfall, she changed her mind.
She actually pulled my sleeve a couple of times, with a twinkle in her eyes, telling me: “Hey, you, come back down to Earth, will you!” I was in seventh heaven and floating on cloud nine, but it wasn’t to be. First of all, she was a young widow and then, to top it all off, her beloved mother, who was my best friend, by the way, died of cancer. Those two deaths in two years time, messed her up to such an extent, that she decided she had to be alone, to recover from it all.
In no way was I to blame, she told me. Intellectually, I could understand this, of course. But my shattered heart was not so understanding. The higher you fly, the deeper the fall. This is how I know, that forever falls on March 31st. For she left me on April first, leaving me feeling like a fool and that the joke was on me.
This episode taught me a valuable lesson in survival. After six months of pure, unadulterated hell, I was ready to call it a day, but my indomitable spirit came to the rescue. It told me to stop hurting myself over something that could not be changed and to finally accept the fact, that she wouldn’t have me in her life anymore (for whatever reason). Acceptance is the key, hard though it may be. And believe you me, it was damned hard.
Three years later, I met a beautiful, wayward, gypsy princess, who swore to me, that she would love me till her dying day. We were inseparable and she told me, that I was the best thing that ever happened to her. And then, she had a brain hemorrhage and passed away, at the tender age of twenty-eight. She had kept her word, my sweet love, but…strike two! As you may imagine, I was a trifle upset with the Big Guy upstairs. There is supposed to be a reason for everything, but the only thing is, often I can’t see it.
So, I have been alone for almost five years. I’m a bit anxious to even look at another woman, for fear of “what next?”. And the misery of it all is that I do so love to love. “Without love, life has no meaning!” someone said. In my opinion, he or she was right. Rest assured that I have not given up hope.
In that, I agree with Rabbi Nachman from Breslav, who admonished us by categorically stating: “It is forbidden to despair!” Those are wise words and well worth listening to.But where is miss right? I am here, ready, willing and most of the time able. Fortunately, even though I am generally an impatient man, when it comes to things that really matter, I have the patience of a monk. And face it, until she shows up, I shall need it. But Lady, be warned, I have some serious hugging and kissing to catch up on!
“People Repair Shop”
Everyone dressed in white,
all sterile and efficient.
Number, please? No name!
Conveyor belt admission,
one surgeon, then the next.
Would you like a kidney?
Go then, they’re on sale.
Two for the price of one.
Don’t need one,
have one just the same!
Zip ‘m up and, Next!
Out the door, I hear:
Say, that’s my foot you’re wearing!
I’m sorry. Shall we go in and change?
Back outside, I shake his hand,
or was it mine?
Who am I, anyway?
Why, number three-one-five!
That’s good to know
and thank you…
Grave news, ladies and gentlemen! The medical and all other professions have given up hope after several members of the … (insert any given nationality here!) government were diagnosed as being social retards. Their symptoms are:
- Impaired conscience
- Egotist’s syndrome
- Sympathy disorder
- Empathy dysfunction
- Emotional decrepitude
- Arbitrary amnesia and
- Facial bipolarity.
Their diplomatic impunity was finally revoked after they were caught making faulty fashion statements. They are to be deported to a megalo-friendly country. Stay tuned for further updates! Ralphie A Burcke reporting for RP.
From The Flaming Vegan.
I love garlic. Yes, yes I know this statement of mine will raise a few (OK, maybe a lot of) eyebrows and many will go yuck. But its true. Its strong pungent smell is repulsive to many people and supposedly, as the superstition goes, to the vampires as well. However, its smell does not deter me from absolutely loving it to the extent that I try to put it in almost everything I make. Infact my husband has complained many times about its quantity in the dishes I make. So to satisfy him, I now sometimes make them just for myself and put garlic in them to my heart’s content.
To read more press <here!>
1. If you want to hang yourself, DON´T use an elastic!
4. If you want to get run over by a train, DON´T wear a red fluorescent jacket! (I can just imagine the train stopping and the driver coming over to ask, if he can help you with something!)
5. DON´T eat a lot of beans, before attempting to drown yourself!
6. If you want to jump off a really high building, make sure the elevators are in working order!
7. DON´T try to shoot yourself, if you have Alzheimers!
8. If you are absent-minded, don´t forget to leave a not to remind yourself of your decision!
9. If you´re going to leave a suicide note, write LEGIBLY and please date and sign it using your OWN name!
10. Bi-polar people should time their suicide properly!
11. If you want to blow yourself up, DON´T use a timer “Made in Taiwan”!
12. If you have a time machine, leave your parents a large supply of condoms and save yourself the bother! (but again NOT “Made in Taiwan”!)
Had to sleep outside last night and didn´t sleep a lot. I was shivering the whole night. I need a sleeping bag, because the thin blanket that I have does not suffice. Didn´t have the money for a hostel. The going is good, because the weather is nice(not too hot). See you when I see you and hugs from Lil Ralphie!(30/7)
Got a sleeping bag already, folks, from an extremely nice young countryman of mine. Am in León now(3/7). Love from me!
(Copied from natedrake on Experience Project. There are more if you like!)
FBI agents conducted a raid of a psychiatric hospital in San Diego that was under investigation for medical insurance fraud. After hours of reviewing thousands of medical records, the dozens of agents had worked up quite an appetite.
The agent in charge of the investigation called a nearby pizza parlor with delivery service to order a quick dinner for his colleagues. The following telephone conversation took place and was recorded by the FBI because they were taping all conversations at the hospital.
Agent: Hello. I’d like to order 19 large pizzas and 3 cases of soda.
Pizza Man: And where would you like them delivered?
Agent: We’re over at the psychiatric hospital.
Pizza Man: The psychiatric hospital?
Agent: That’s right. I’m an FBI agent.
Pizza Man: You’re an FBI agent?
Agent: That’s correct. Just about everybody here is.
Pizza Man: And you’re at the psychiatric hospital?
Agent: That’s correct. And make sure you don’t go through the front doors. We have them locked. You’ll have to go around to the back service entrance to deliver the pizzas.
Pizza Man: And you say you’re all FBI agents there?
Agent: That’s right. How soon can you have them here?
Pizza Man: Everyone at the psychiatric hospital is an FBI agent?
Agent: That’s right. We’ve been here all day and we’re starving.
Pizza Man: How are you going to pay for all of this?
Agent: We’ve collected a pool of cash.
Pizza Man: And you’re all FBI agents?
Pizza Man: With guns?
Agent: That’s right. Now, can you remember to bring the pizzas and sodas to the service entrance in the rear? We have the front doors locked.
Pizza Man: No freakin’ way.