Hey, I never claimed that our pandemic was propelled by an errant vaccine. I merely suggested it was an interesting possibility if H5N1 was indeed genomally incapable of serially infecting many people. The point I’m always trying to make is not that I know so much, but that we know so little.
A number of hysterical antivaxers (not including Fitch, who protests in person) have written to try to persuade me that the big pharmaceutical companies will turn babies into repurposed drones via the impending H5N1 vaccine. Ladies, you’ll be lucky if your babies see a vaccine this year. (And please note that they no longer use thimerosal in any vaccines for kids under seven years of age.)
Still, I vigorously oppose legislation to force vaccinations not only on health workers, but all public employees. Such measures induce resentment and panic. The fact is that most Americans want to be vaccinated.
Yes, I still wear a mask, gloves, and goggles when I go out, and I disinfect when I come home. Even if I did catch H5N1, the virus may evolve other strains that could come back and bite me. Not to mention that I might infect others, per Hope-Simpson. And track microbes indoors for Sneeky to absorb.
I definitely dread the prospect of emergency legislation that would enable the government to draft Americans who have survived bird flu. If Hope-Simpson was right, flu survivors spread it no less than current victims do—possibly more.
I detest conscription anyway. The LES DIY keeps a list of flu survivors who could help others. (Only Anna has heard of Hope-Simpson; she reads this blog.) The people on the list volunteered, which is what the government and DHS and FEMA and RAISE ought to ask Americans to do—instead of drafting them to work for contractors and subcontractors hired by the government for fat fees.
I hope Congress comes to its senses (it’s tough not to laugh out loud at the thought, but I vowed never to use Web jargon) and chooses to help citizens help themselves.
In the Food for Love
By now, more than a few readers are saying hmmm, what about my question? You know, the culinary one…. One reader put it best: “Young man, I don’t know you, but your hostess wasn’t taking any chances on her menu. By my count, your dinner consisted of nearly 100% aphrodisiac foods. I’m shocked—shocked—that she didn’t serve oysters!”
Prompted to look into this unseemly allegation, I’m astounded to discover that almost everything Anna served is known or rumored to have a libidinous effect. I suspect she couldn’t obtain oysters, which are laden with zinc and dopamine. (Both have an established effect on arousal.)
But she did pretty well. Take our dessert: Bananas have an enzyme called bromelain, chocolate an alkaloid called theobromine and a chemical called phenylethylamine. All have sensual effects. That was just one course. I could go on and on.
I did, but I would have anyway.
Anna provides very well for herself and her chosen beneficiaries. She’s Mother Earth in gauzy fabrics, inspired and inspiring. In return, she needs to be consumed. It turns out we’re exceedingly well-matched. Am I smitten? You bet.
Anna’s world is rich because she imagines it to be, then makes it so. She says she imagined I was pure and ferocious. Reporting for duty, ma’am. I always knew she was ravishing.
Special thanks to the woman who sent the hot tip about celery. It turns out to contain androsterone, an odorless hormone men release when they sweat; it’s said to excite women. If I find some celery, I’ll see what happens. I doubt I could tell the difference.