Healing Cancer

Mes Amis:

Regardless of the hype made by the Cancer Industry, composed of drug companies and the AMA, we are no closer today in finding a cure for cancer through conventional means than we were fifty years ago.  The statistics of "cures" are merely remissions based on five year, not complete cure, numbers. They are no really interested in finding a cure, but spend millions researching and earn billions in their horrendous treatments of chemotherapy and needless surgery.

Did you know that cancer, when found, has been growing in the host for many years? It is a very slow process. And it may take many many years to finally kill you.  But the treatments will. The merchants of medical chaos will rush you to chemo or radical vivisection as if this discovery was some overnight thing, when it has been resident in the host for perhaps decades, finally making an appearance, and there must be a quick fix---their quick fix is most often the cause of quick death. I would take a life of pain or whatever than the horrors generated in my body and mind from such as chemotherapy, or the lopping off of my breasts if I was a woman when that may not be necessary..

So how do you explain those cases when the cancer disappears without a trace without their chemo or radical chopping off of your parts?  They explain it by saying it was misdiagnosis.  Yet when it is found, they rush to cut or hit you with chemo, etc., which renders your life living hell.  A friend who recently died from ovarian cancer did chemo, and I swear chemo killed her, said that it felt like her body will filled with straws sucking her very life out.  It is so sad that people will listen to their doctors because "doctors know best," an amazing blind faith that has been instilled in us since birth. If you have a doctor friend who is honest enough to talk to you about their "art" of medicine, what you will be told will shock you to the core for they simply do not really have a clue beyond setting bones and the efficacy of aspirin, etc. Other than those, they will readily admit a placebo works about as well as most pharmaceuticals in curing something other than the effectiveness of psychotrophics which fix nothing but create addiction and more TV watching.

How about those amazing disappearances of even advanced cancer after a radical change of diet from animal to plant foods?  How about those cultures which have mostly plant foods in their diets which have almost no incidence of cancer?  How about the very low incidence of cancer in countries where they smoke like potbellied stoves, with low intake of animal (meat) protein and high plant foods?  Does that tell you anything? 

I was handed a revelatory and provocative DVD by Dr. James Keppler of Sacramento this week:  "Healing Cancer From Inside Out," by Mike Anderson with such research and medical authorities as T. Colin Campbell, Ph.D, (The China Study), and many others of high repute in the medical community who are not afraid to voice their opinion about what is happening in the Cancer Industry.  This DVD is two hours long; the first hour dealing with the so called cure by the medical research and treatment community (and drug apparatus) and the second dealing with what really can and does cure cancer dealing with diet primarily of plant origin. It discusses studies in just about every culture and country in the world, and primarily a huge study in China, which reveals unequivocally that diet is the source.  My old doctor who mama took us to in Shreveport, Dr. Tom Smith, always said "You Are What You Eat," and after sixty or seventy years that is becoming clearer in my mind what that old boy was saying. 

I would go even further and say "you are what you eat and what you surround yourself with (including who you surround yourself with)."  Ingesting that most wonderful ribeye or tbone, juicy, succulent, dripping with juices, filling the air with mouth watering smells, is the apex dining experience of most Americans experiences---given a baked potato flooded with butter, sour cream and chives and maybe bacon chips.  But that is the meal that kills. Not only choking your arteries with fat but loading your body with the poisons the stockpen owners injected the cattle with, and on top of that what they fed those animals which in turn is loaded with pesticides and herbicides, and you became, at the top of the food chain, the ultimate depository of all those wonderful man made carcinogins. What the hell can you expect will happen to you?  We are just to damn lazy to find out, and then go through life with increasing debilitation, accepting the stiffness, the moodiness, the depressions, personal awareness winking out like lights going out in a building, growing into regular and then finally accepted chronic lower energy and increased body pains. We accept this scenario as what normally happens when you pass forty.  No, this body is designed to last well over a hundred years at a ripping howling enduring asskicking screwing laughing day by day life until something external knocks off this meat body. We are committing hari kari with each mouthful of generated foods.  So eat organic, whatever you eat, and eat primarily plant based foods.

As to cancer, what is it?  We are literally swarming with cancer cells, waiting to be triggered into a life. You trigger it primarily by your diet, and in part by your associations and environment, but primarily what you put into your body as food. And when it is triggered, it grows slowly usually unless it is at the last stages---depending on where it is and in what organ it manifests itself.  If you are diagnosed, please do not listen to their idea of rushing into chemo, for that will kill you for sure, or surgery, depriving you of a part that may not have to be removed, for it has been there for a long time, usually, and if the part is removed, the cancer may come back somewhere else. Change your diet.  (And hey, remember the author who had cancer and decided he would just get away from everything and laugh a lot---and cured it through laughter....) After publishing this rant on my general email (standwithfist@gmail.com) I received a number of responses from friends who had either personally or had friends who changed diet and removed any vestige of cancer.

Have a great day. This is good news.  There is a way to beat it.

ldsledge

How to Remember a List of Ten Items

Have you ever gone to the store and couldn't remember some of the things you went to buy? Here is a simple way to remember ten items at a time. I learned this years ago and use it all of the time as a "to do" list, and don't have to write it down unless it exceeds ten items. There is a way to remember twenty items, but I am only going to show you ten, for you seldom have more than that do to.

The method is simply hooking the item to something easily remembered. This is probably the way those savants who can remember the names of an audience of a hundred people. They may be simply gifted, but this system is for the non gifted, like me. Here goes.

Hook the item to the following list of rhyming mental pictures.

One = Run. A group of runners in a marathon, each one carrying the item you want to remember.
Two = Zoo. An island in the zoo, across a fence from you, filled with monkeys playing with the item.
Three = Tree. A huge tree, with the item hanging from the branches, falling like fruit to the ground.
Four = Door. A big door with the items falling through, squeezing out of the door.
Five = Hive. A huge beehive, with bees carrying the objects away and bringing them in.
Six = Sticks. Piles of sticks with many of this item mixed in the sticks.
Seven = Heaven. The clouds parting and the item is falling through the clouds from a crack in the sky.
Eight = Gate. There is this big swinging garden gate, and this item is tumbling through.
Nine = Vine. The item growing on a huge vine like clusters of grapes.
Ten = Den. A bear's den, with bears sitting on, playing with the item.

You can use this list over and over. Each time you use a new set of items, it erases the old one and the new one is now in the hands of the runner or monkey, etc.

Have fun trying this out. I think you will never have to write out a list again.

The Great Pretender

The Great Pretender


Prefer I to press to these keys
To imbed on my own memory and cyber world
The imaginary cankers that I seem to cherish
And hold dear
When I know they are only phantoms of old dead dreams
Long drempt, long past in memory
Of lives lied in the dim half world of shadow
Somewhere back in the days of maybe regret and too little joy’
And now I know what is important,
For it is joy that I can make for myself
It is the day I can fill with laughter and crystal dreams of now
Of bells that ring like little birdsong
And fragrance on the breeze
And the tug of a fish on my line
The touch of her gentle fingers on my body
The breath of her on my ear
And there is more for I can look and see dimension
And form and the floor beneath my feet that stays
Level and firm so I don’t sink to my chin in doubt
Yes to know I know, to know I am me
To know I am pretending
A pretend that I am pretending
Oh what fun.
Fill my pretended lungs and let out a laugh
At how silly I am to try to not know
And to know that I am really having fun
Pretending to pretend,
always.
And forever
Amen

Michael Jackson's oil portrait "HomageKOPH/15)

Michael Jackson, the innovative musical genius of his generation, left a legacy that changed the face and pace of Rock music forever. He is gone, but his music and images live on. He is linked to Dick Zimmerman, masterpiece portrait artist, labeled by the public as “The Rembrandt of the 21st Century”.
Zimmerman started as a portrait painter, and because of his very realistic style, painting exactly what was on film, he moved into photography to enhance his reference photographs. He then studied photography and found he was fascinated by the medium, and was so successful that he got caught up in it for twenty two years and at that time gained his reputation known as the celebrity image maker. But he longed to return to painting, his first love.
Dick has been painting again for the last eighteen years and has just completed an oil painting, a tribute to Michael Jackson, entitled “HomageKOPH/15” using his reference photographs taken of Michael through the last fifteen years, which they had created together. During that period, he had the opportunity to do three photographic sessions with Michael: The Thriller Album cover, the exclusive wedding portraits of Lisa and Michael, and Steven Spielberg’s ET Narration cover. You can read the story of the creation of the Thriller album on our website, www.dickzimmerman.com.
Dick will be traveling to Los Angeles this week and will present the first copy to the Jackson family, and selected museums throughout the US. During that time there will be numerous interviews and TV appearances.
During and after the painting presentations and media blitz in Hollywood, the demand for his paintings will undoubtedly accelerate, so will his commission prices. Most likely 100% to 200%. Certainly there is an opportunity here if you were originally interested in a family portrait commission, to take advantage of the current commission prices.
Art like this is a double investment. It increases in actual value over time with the acceleration of the repute of the artist, but it is much more of a private investment, for it pays personal dividends in priceless pleasure every time you look at it.
Dick is no longer doing art festivals. He is dedicating his time exclusively to painting. His agent/representative, David Sledge, stands ready to answer any question you may have.

To wit: to woo.

To wit, to woo.

Well, how do you go about it? Do you have some great lines? "You got any Irish in you? How about, "Shall I call you or nudge you?" "Are you tired?" "What's your sign?" "Do you come here often?"

That is not going anywhere. Thus begins the mating ritual of the most ridiculous species on earth, the Homo Sapiens male. In our effort to woo, men forget one minor detail: women are human beings. They respond to genuine, sincere communication. Because the thought of this kind of interaction makes most men a little queasy, we sometimes look for a way to get things rolling. Palm reading is just this sort of invention. And I think it's on the same plane as astrology and reading knobs on your head, but it has advantages in the mating ritual.

In the course of discussing the lines of your respective hands, you may learn a few things about each other. You know that the line that runs across the upper area of your palm is the heart line. Maybe you can pick up on just how sensual she is by checking that out. Then there is the head line, the one in the middle. Is she smarter than you? Is that what you want? Then the long one on the bottom is the life line. Of course there are many interpretations of these lines.

The life line may be a little scary, if it has lots of breaks or if it is short. And the head line may go nowhere, or streak deeply across the palm. But then, if the heart line is deep and long, you may feel you have advance surveillance going on and have a bit of jump on the mystery awaiting in those eyes so close.

At the very least you'll get to hold a pretty woman's hand for a few minutes, and that is not a bad thing at all.

July 21, the birthday of Earnest Hemingway. I grew up with Hemingway being the literary giant of the age. "The Old Man And The Sea" was serialized in Life Magazine in the Fifties. I read it wondering at the futility of effort and life that exuded from the story, hoping for something more. An old fisherman caught this huge fish that pulled him for days until it surrendered and he brought it in after nearly killing himself to prove to the villagers that he was really worthwhile as a man. But when he got in the predators had eaten it. The reason I put the image in this of the "flowers in the dark" as I call them, is that Hemingway was a man with flowers in his heart but darkness in his soul.

Then he did lots of things he should not have, as most of us have, and had no tool to deal with it or cleanse himself of his overts and withholds as we call them, and suffered. The suffering from such by a sensitive soul is to bring self inflicted justice in such extreme measure upon ones self that it seems inexplicable that one could have so much bad luck. He made the mistake of seeking help from psychiatry, and shock treament. They put electrodes on both temporals and send huge jolts of electricity through to "cure" one. They have no clue as to what this is supposed to do, but it subdues the patient, giving him more problems than he had before. I have seen this happen over and over, and then the patient turns to drugs to ease the new pain overlaid on the old, and dies while still living. Hemingway took a shotgun and blew his brains out for he found he could no longer write or create----it stripped him of his creativity and thus his very life.

I know of a few who do not look for love. Some are able to sublimate the need for a partner with whom to laugh and create and satisfy needs with activity of some sort. I am one who needs both, needing a sexual partner and someone with whom I can create joy and life. I happen to love the grace and wonder of a beautiful woman. I recently fell obsessively into the abyss over an exotic Italian woman who couldn't make up her mind. She had me, lock stock and barrel. Her reach and withdraw was maddening. Maybe something like that happened to Hemingway. He was married a number of times, and loved the ladies, and when you play that game you expose yourself to the vicissitudes and wild random variables of the game, and can become a babbling idiot over a woman. I know it can drive one over the edge, but I fortunately had my tools of Scientology to save me. Poor bastard didn't have anything but psychiatry, the very essence of evil, which crushed him in its tentacles and destroyed the essence of his life.

There's a legend that Ernest Hemingway was once challenged to create a six-word story, and he said, "For sale: baby shoes, never worn." Inspired by this, an online magazine invited readers to submit their own six-word memoirs, a collection of which was published by Harper Collins in 2008 as Not Quite What I Was Planning: Six-Word Memoirs by Writers Famous and Obscure. Six-word memoirs include: "All I ever wanted was more" and "Moments of transcendence, intervals of yearning" and "They called. I answered. Wrong number." (The above paragraph was stolen from today's The Writer's Almanac,by Garrison Keillor.

Seems both presidential candidates in the 2008 election said that his "For Whom The Bells Toll," was their favorite book. A wounded man in the Spanish Civil war heroically holds off the enemy while his comrades escape. I can see McCain holding this book to his breast, but the idea of Hussein Barak Obama having any courage or bravery as a mantra is a mockery.

I read somewhere that someone asked Hemingway about rewriting a story, saying, "I hear that you had to revise it fifteen times, why did it take so many times?" Hemingway replied, "to get the words right." Writing is rewriting. Write the story fast, et it out of you, put it on the paper, don't give a damn about grammar or anything, just get it out. Then go back and fix it. He was a master of minimalism. I wonder, with the writer and reader climate of today, if he would be recognized as the great icon he became or have been swallowed up in the stampede of writers trying to get attention---and if the women editors and publishers would have approved of his extreme maleness. I wonder. Seems the male icon is vanishing. At a writers conference, a woman editor/agent brayed to the audience, "The Day of the Male is dead, thank God." Appears she was close to right. Look what we got for a President.

Quote by Martha Graham

I am not a great fan of dance, but I have been to the ballet and I have seen some strange things done on stage called dance. But when I saw the Martha Graham dancers performing at the Louisiana State University theater back in the seventies, I was impressed. This was truly dance as it could be, for it wasn't just a bunch of jumping around emoting---it was exquisite, fluid human motion, expressive and so unique that it left an indelible impression of aesthetics on me.

My good friend Eugenio Castillio, of Mexico City, a great artist and performer in his own right (I never saw him dance and would probably ask him not to try when I was looking) sent me this quote by Martha Graham.


“There is a vitality, a life force, a quickening that is translated through you into action, and because there is only one of you in all time, this expression is unique. And if you block it, it will never exist through any other medium and be lost. The world will not have it.”

“It is not your business to determine how good it is, nor how valuable it is, nor how it compares with other expressions. It is your business to keep it yours clearly and directly; to keep the channel open. You do not even have to believe in yourself or your work. You have to keep open and aware directly to the urges that motivate YOU. Keep the channel open…”

“No artist is pleased… There is no satisfaction whatever at any time. There is only a queer, divine dissatisfaction; a blessed unrest that keeps us marching and makes us more alive than the others.”