The HAND
Topic: Thirteen Thursday

"Hey Tige," I blurted out to Mr. Tiger, the pest who never lends a helping hand on Thanksgiving or any day throughout the year, "the hand! A neglected part of our bodies. Ever thought much about how the hand shapes our lives?"

'Can't say that I have, nor do I care,' he answered in an detached manner. 'On the other hand,' he added as he deliberately raised his own to make an unseen gesture, 'there are some perfectly good reasons to appreciate the hand.'

I cut him off as quickly as I could to state, "The hand is going to be the subject matter for Thirteen Thursday edition # 68."

'With the internet at your fingertips it shouldn't be too hard to hand out a stale look at the hand, which probably has been done before.' I let him win this hand of our conversation, coming back with a simple, "Thank goodness for copy and paste because the internet kinda goes hand and hand with collecting data , don't ya think?"

Before he could answer I proceeded with an assortment of 13 facts that I've highlighted from my observations, articles across the internet, and books I've read. I began my list with a quote from C.S. Lewis, who said,

1. "You play the hand you're dealt. I think the game's worthwhile."

2. Since it's Thanksgiving today I went with a picture of a construction paper turkey decoration that can be made from a child's hands and feet.
3. 'The Hand: How its use shapes the brain, language, and human culture' was my next pick. I read over at Amazon.com an editorial review by Rob Lightner where he writes: The hand is, among other things, a complex symbol, representing both the creative and the prosaic. This blending of the spiritual and the mundane is what makes the hand unique, as it in turn makes us unique among animals. Neurologist Frank R. Wilson has taken on a heroic task: to explain the hand on both of these levels and to show us how we use these marvelous instruments to find and create meaning in our lives.

Publishers Weekly mentions more on Dr. Wilson's insights.

4. Neurologist Wilson (Tone Deaf and All Thumbs?) gathers arguments from anthropology, psychology and medicine, along with the personal stories of musicians, backhoe operators, puppeteers and prestidigitators, to demonstrate the centrality to intelligence of our human hand. His account of the coevolution of hand and brain through our primate ancestors is fascinating, and the science he sites is rigorous and profound. which leads to...

5. and image of American Sign Language.

6. My favorite sign is:
(I LOVE YOU)

7. Try this: Have someone fill a bag with familiar household objects. Shut your eyes and feel them with your bare feet. Can you guess what they are? Now try again, this time using your hands. You'll be able to feel the difference.

8. A touch of velvet, fur, rock, sand, water, or leather can all be distinguished.

9. Chirognomy, a form of Palmistry, is a assessment of the shape of the hand. Some say it is the outline of your personality. For instance it has been hypothesized that the size, shape and appearance of the hand is an outline of our personalities.

10. I have an Air Hand. According to this site, The Air hand has long fingers and tends to have an abundance of clear lines in the palm. Air types spend their time in the intellecual realms. They are curious and full of ideas. They thrive on nervous energy and may be prone to worry and stress. Air types are communicators and are often good at working with the public. However they may tend to intellectualize their feelings and can have difficulty with close, personal relationships. Astrologically, the Air signs are Gemini, Libra and Aquarius.

11. Fingerprints form in the womb.

12. Dr. by John Napier, author of Hands says, ''One of the saddest sights there is is to watch the hands of the mentally disturbed. When the brain is empty, the hands are still.''

13. I ended as I started; with a quote. "You can't shake hands with a clenched fist." - Indira Gandhi

Picture of the Day
Topic: Health & Well-being
"Hey Tige," I said to Mr. Tiger, the booby prize within, "how'ja like this picture of the day?"

'Picture of the day?' questioned the pest, 'nothing special about that picture.'

"Look again Tiger. Don't you see anything special about the picture I just uploaded?" I asked once more, even while knowing he'd give me the same answer.

'No. Just a mother holding her kid, that's all,' he impatiently responded.

"A mother nursing her kid," I corrected, "which is the point. This picture does not offend. It does not show anything under the mother's shirt, and yet," I said, "people are upset when they see a mother feeding her child in public."

'Rats,' he said, probably because his imagination kicked in. 'Let me look a little closer.'

"Look all you want Tiger, nothing is showing and so what? if it is," I said continuing with, "I'd say that it's a safe bet to say that of the mother's who nurse their babies the natural and healthy way, few, in any, are out to offend. They just want to feed their child."

'There are indecenty laws, ya know?' he said.

I then went to tell Tiger of the recent debate on Flight 6160 about the woman who was arrested for breastfeeding. "It happened on Oct. 13," I said, "Emily Gillette, 27, was nursing her 22 month old daughter on on board a Delta aircraft when she was ordered off the plane after a flight attendant told her, "You are offending me." The attendant then got a blanket for her to cover up," I added.

Tiger cut in. 'She probably wasn't being discreet,' he suggested before he questioned, 'Twenty two months old!?'

"That's right," I said thinking back to the days when I nursed my own children. "Molly was three years old before she weaned," I said. "I nursed her everywhere and never showed an exposed breast in public. Matter of fact, I've seen thousands of mothers nursing their babies and I've never been offended."

'I hope you used a blanket?'

"No. There's no need to use a blanket when the mother's shirt is hiked up just right. Besides," I said, "the baby's head covers her bare skin."

Before finishing up my post today - the day before Thanksgiving - when eating was on people's minds, I asked one more question, "Who wants a blanket over their heads while they're eating?"

I could have gone on with my rant. I could have brought up the fact that woman's breasts are used to sell everything under the sun, but no one cares - that is until - it's a mother feeding her child. Then it's offensive. I ended with a link to a Boston Globe editorial on this issue, entitled, Let nursing mothers be.

"The gaming of US elections"
Topic: Technology

"Hey Tige," I said to Mr. Tiger, the flaw within, "we should go back to pen and pencil when it comes to voting - otherwise we are doomed."

'The election is over, the Dems got in,' said the pest. 'Get over it.'

"We need to demand that all electronic voting machines be thrown out. Even a machine with a receipt showing the so-called actual votes, can't be trusted to give an honest tally. We're doomed," I said once more, adding to that, "The 2006 congressional elections were hacked. The exit polling data and the reported election results don't add up."

'You're so neurotic,' grumbled Mr.Tiger.

"Think so? I don't," I replied before he could open his mouth again.

It wasn't hard to put on the brakes. I continued without losing a beat, "It is my belief the general public would abandon the flawed system if they knew the truth about how votes are stolen. Greg Palast, for one, has nailed it with this piece,' I said, telling Tiger, "He speculates that the on November 7, 2006, "four and a half million votes could have been shoplifted."

'And I could be Little Red Riding Hood,' said Tiger in between my remarks.

"In fact," I said, "the situation with the touch screen voting machines is critical and it will become worse if we stubbornly refuse to look at what's coming down the road. Look at this," I said as I pointed to a Princeton University study. "They demonstrate, with video, the ease at which this new voting technology can be compromised."

I ended by attaching to this entry a YouTube presentation of the all important demonstration produced by the computer scientists at Princeton. As I did, I begged, "Please watch this!"

Synchronicity - A Thanksgiving Memory
Topic: Family
"Hey Tige," I said to Mr. Tiger the ungrateful pest of my inner being, "My brother John is home this week from Minneapolis."

'I know,' Mr. Tiger responded decisively. 'He always comes home for Thanksgiving. I suppose you're going to tell me again about that Thanksgiving week back eight years ago.'

"How'd you know?" I asked automatically.

'Because you've been telling that story every time he comes home,' he reminded me without failing to add, 'and I'm sick of it.'

"It's worth listening to again Tige," I determined. "And besides," I said, thinking of all the posts that were lost when I accidently deleted my first blog, "I want the story on my blog again."

'Let's seeeee,' he said, resigning himself to the inevitable, while pretending to strain his recall, 'the story begins when your nephew Matthew was two years old.'

"Yup," I answered before taking over. "It was a Monday. I used to babysit Matty every Monday. On this particular Monday, I wanted to treat him to a surprise day at the New England Aquarium, because not only was he a toddler eager for knowledge, I knew we'd both enjoy a day watching the educational exhibits and the thousands of aquatic creatures."

Mr. Tiger expelled a sigh.

"So we headed into Boston by way of the subway, because I don't drive into Boston unless I have to, especially during a holiday week."

'I've heard that before too,' he coldly threw in.

"The ride into Boston was uneventful as Matt sat contently on my lap watching the scenery from the train windows," I remembered. "We were having a blast - until it was time to change trains. Was it the Orange Line? The Red Line? Or the Blue Line that would take me directly to the Aquarium stop at Central Wharf?"

'You should have found that out before you ventured into Boston with a two year old kid,' charged the pest.

"Yeah, you're right," I agreed, "but I thought I'd remember, having done it several times when my own kids were little. Anyway," I said beginning again, "I figured it'd be easy enough to follow the signs or to simply ask someone for directions."

'It wasn't,' said Tiger from memory.

"I didn't realize how much things had changed. I did my best, carrying Matty in-arms as I made my way up the stairs, over this way, down that way, along the hall, over there, up more stairs, down the stairs to the other side - asking for directions as I went along and finding out, how few subway riders in Boston actually speak English these days," I said, letting out a sigh of my own.

"I finally bumped into a woman who said, "Follow me. What a relief it was to sit down!" I said, "My arms were breaking by now."

'Hmmm,' hummed the pest as I recapitulated.

"Once on the correct train, we happily sat and sat and sat while we waited for the train to start up," I recalled for him, "Until at last, there was an announcement explaining the delay. Something about technical problems on the train."

'That train was going nowhere,' put in Tiger.

"Right." I shook my head and continued. "I looked at my watch," reliving the story and recalling how I felt. "Jeeze, most of the day was already gone. I had to be home by 2:00 because my youngest child, Molly, would be getting home from school."

'You waited another 15 minutes on the Blue-Line train,' said Tiger who knew the story by heart.

"Yes," I said, "which was when the loud speaker repeated the same message about the technical problems."

'What'd you do next?' asked Tiger coaching me along.

"I said to Matty, "Did you enjoy your train ride today Matt?" adding as I do every time I tell the story, "Luckily I hadn't mentioned to him that the plan was to visit the fishes."

'And in conclusion?' prompted Tiger, wanting to get to the end of the story.

"There's more," I told him, "we're coming to the best part."

'So you made your way back...' he said trying to hurry me along.

"That's right," I said, "and again, with baby Matthew in my arms. A two year old can get very heavy, you know," I added.

'He could have walked,' Tiger barked.

"Not in the crowded subway tunnels," I exclaimed before saying, "I wanted to keep him as close as I could as I made my way back over the stairs, down the corridor, over this way and that way. Boy-oh-boy," I added, "was he getting heavy again."

"I decided, since my arms were breaking, that I'd get on the next train to give my tired arms a rest. I could sit with Matt for a bit while I figured out how to get home," I told him.

'The next train arrived, and you got on,' he said clearly bored with my pace. 'Right?'

"Right," I answered. "I must have looked haggard by then because a seat was provided right away."

'And then?'

"After a few shakes of each arm to get the circulation going again, it was not long before I was comfy- with Matthew tucked snugly on my lap," I said in advance of, "I turned, looking for the posted directions I'd need to get home and low and behold, there was my brother Johnny, standing only two feet away!" I said, again feeling the same thrill of excitement I felt eight years ago when I saw him standing there on the same train.

"He had not been home in months and was just off the plane from Logan, taking the subway into the suburbs, where he'd next get a taxi to our families home for early Thanksgiving surprise visit," I told Tiger for the eighth time.

'What a coinicidence,' said Tiger with a roll of his eyes.

"Was it ever! Johnny saved the day," I said, as I finished up retelling my tale, "I was feeling lost in the subway, with my car at the other end of our train ride just when John needed a ride home from Boston for his Thanksgiving visit."

What's Real?
Topic: Technology

"Hey Tige," I said to Mr. Tiger, the sham within, "After hearing and reading about Sony's PlayStation 3 and how people are waiting in line for days to spend $500 or more for a game, I'm confused about our priorities. I have a lot of curiosity about virtual worlds but I have to admit, I can't fully wrap my brain around it."

'Am I supposed to act surprised?' growled the pest with a genuine hint of synthetic boredom.

"If you're not - I am - surprised by it, I mean, " I said, already confused by the direction our conversation was going.

Before we went further, I scratched my head and pointed to Second Life, a virtual community where you can create anything. "I guess it's the computer software that creates a simulated 3-D environment - an artificial reality - resembling what is authentic," I said, trying to sound as though I knew what I meant. I didn't. Nonetheless I added what was real, "Participants spend real money on monthly transactions," I said.

'Anything that can be done and is worth doing,' said Mr. Tiger, behaving as he does - as though a novel approach was second nature to him.

Maybe it was. Maybe I was over-thinking what was, for me, a very vague idea. Maybe it's true that the real world, as I know it, isn't any more real than a place like Second Life, where real estate is for sale for $9.95 a month plus a Land Use Fee proportional to the amount of land you own. "OY!" I said.

'I want an island,' responded the pest.

"That can be had," I said to him and then to myself, as I was trying to fathom this stuff, I said, "What on earth is this world coming to?"

'Cool place," he replied, to, I think, the idea of an island.

"You'll probably need a car," I said back. "Real companies are getting into the act of virtual reality," I told him as I read from a CNNMoney.com article, "General Motors' Pontiac division is spending thousands of dollars to create a make-believe dealership that will sell make-believe cars for as little as a few dollars a piece."

I was still not getting it, my head was spinning.

I ended with some quotes that somehow seemed fitting. But maybe not.

"If you would be a real seeker after truth, it is necessary that at least once in your life you doubt, as far as possible, all things." --Rene Descartes

The disciple said, ?I am not yet able to be sure about this.? Confucius was pleased. Confucius. Analects 5 ;6

"Judge a man by his questions rather than by his answers." - Voltaire

The Treads in Our Lives
Topic: Book Reviews


I told Mr. Tiger what I was reading yesterday. "I was reading the absorbing novel, Mystic River by Dennis Lehane. Had me sobbing like I haven't cried in a long time," I added.

'You could have rented the movie instead of spending all those hours reading a whodunit mystery.'

He was right again. I could have. I did enjoy the movie version when it first came out in the theaters in 2003. Watching the DVD would have been quicker. Nonetheless, I was glad to have read the book. I tried to explain to the pest. "Clint Eastwood did a great job directing the film and the actors did well too, but still," I said, straining to articulate, "there's something that only the written word effectively communicates. Something about the language of Life that a story about 3 eleven year old boys, one of whom was accosted, could reach."

I went on with an excerpt from pages 173 and 174 of Mystic River. Jimmy, the father of teenager Katie - the murder victim, is talking to his old buddy Sean and another cop named Whitey. They are in the morgue.

"Mr. Marcus," Whitey said, "we were hoping to ask you a few questions. I know it's a hard time, but..."

Jimmy lowered the sheet back over his daughters's face, his lips moving, but no sounds leaving his mouth. He looked over at Whitey as if he were surprised to find him in the room, pen poised over his report pad. He turned his head, looked at Sean.

"You ever think," said Jimmy, "how the most minor decision can change the entire direction of your life?"

Sean held his eyes. "How so?"

Jimmy's face was pale and blank, the eyes turned up as if he were trying to remember where he left his car keys.

"I heard once that Hitler's mother almost aborted him but bailed out at the last minute. I heard he left Vienna because he couldn't sell his paintings. He sells a painting, though, Sean? Or his mother actually aborts? The world's a way different place. You know? Or, like, say you miss your bus one morning, so you buy a second cup of coffee, buy a scratch ticket while you're at it. The scratch ticket hits. Suddenly you don't have to take the bus anymore. You drive to work in a Lincoln. But you get in a car crash and you die. All because you missed the bus one day."

Sean looked at Whitey. Whitey shrugged.

"No," Jimmy said, "don't do that. Don't look at him like I'm crazy. I'm not crazy. I'm not in shock."

"Okay, Jim."

"I'm just saying there are threads, okay? Threads in our lives. You pull one, and everything else gets effected. Say it rained in Dallas and so Kennedy didn't ride in a convertible. Stalin stayed in the seminary. Say you and me, Sean, say we got in the car with Dave Boyle."

"What?" Whitey said. "What car?"

Sean held up a hand and said to Jimmy, "I'm losing you here."

"You are? If we got in the car, life would have been a different thing. My first wife, Marita, Katie's mother? She was so beautiful. She was regal. You know the way some Latin woman can be? Gorgeous. And she knew it. If a guy wanted to approach her, he better have some big balls on him. And I did. I was King Shit at sixteen. I was fearless. And I did approach her, and I did ask her out. And a year later - Christ, I was seventeen, a child - we got married and she was carrying Katie.

Jimmy walked around his daughter's body in slow, steady circles.

"Here's the thing, Sean - if we'd gotten in that car, been driven off to God knows where and had God knows what done to us by two freaks for four days when we were, what eleven? - I don't think I'd have been so ballsy at sixteen. I think I would have been a basket case, you know, stoked on Ritalin or whatever. I know never would have had what it took to ask out a woman as haughty gorgeous as Marita. And so we never would have had Katie. And Katie, then, never would have been murdered. But she was. All because we didn't get in that car, Sean. You see what I'm saying?"

'Done yet? asked Mr. Tiger, acting as though he were struggling to make sense of the above.

"Yeah," I said with anticipation, "just another few pages to read before I'm finished with this powerful novel."

---------------
post note:
"Hey Tige, "Ever wonder how a post would appear if you copied and pasted only half of it into the entry place? That is exactly what happened on this post. I'm leaving it as is...kinda like it too."

Kahlil Gibran
Topic: Thirteen Thursday
"Hey Tige," I said to Mr. Tiger, the inner pest whose aim is to shake up my confidence, "I'm eager to get to my next Thirteen Thursday, but I'm busy all day so I'm doing a repeat, retrieved from my lost blog for Edition #67."

'Give me a break,' Tiger said putting his gloves on and saying in typical fashion, 'What blockbuster thoughts do you have today for this idiot meme? It's nothing but a virus consisting of extremely simple and worn out ideas passed from one host to another.'

"Infectious indeed," I agreed, not letting him trigger a reaction.

Without any further ado I went directly to my Thirteen Thursday, hoping to propagate some of the wisdom of Kahlil Gibran.

Thirteen Things quotes from Kahlil Gibran 1. On Love Love gives naught but itself and takes naught but from itself. Love possesses not nor would it be possessed; For love is sufficient unto love. When you love you should not say, "God is in my heart," but rather, I am in the heart of God." And think not you can direct the course of love, if it finds you worthy, directs your course. 2. On Work Work is love made visible. And if you cannot work with love but only with distaste, it is better that you should leave your work and sit at the gate of the temple and take alms of those who work with joy. For if you bake bread with indifference, you bake a bitter bread that feeds but half man's hunger. And if you grudge the crushing of the grapes, your grudge distils a poison in the wine. And if you sing though as angels, and love not the singing, you muffle man's ears to the voices of the day and the voices of the night. 3. On Children Your children are not your children. They are the sons and daughters of Life's longing for itself. They come through you but not from you, And though they are with you, yet they belong not to you. You may give them your love but not your thoughts. For they have their own thoughts. You may house their bodies but not their souls, For their souls dwell in the house of tomorrow, which you cannot visit, not even in your dreams. You may strive to be like them, but seek not to make them like you. For life goes not backward nor tarries with yesterday. You are the bows from which your children as living arrows are sent forth. The archer sees the mark upon the path of the infinite, and He bends you with His might that His arrows may go swift and far. Let your bending in the archer's hand be for gladness; For even as he loves the arrow that flies, so He loves also the bow that is stable. 4. On Buying and Selling To you the earth yields her fruit, and you shall not want if you but know how to fill your hands. It is in exchanging the gifts of the earth that you shall find abundance and be satisfied. Yet unless the exchange be in love and kindly justice, it will but lead some to greed and others to hunger. 5. On Joy and Sorrow Some of you say, "Joy is greater thar sorrow," and others say, "Nay, sorrow is the greater." But I say unto you, they are inseparable. Together they come, and when one sits, alone with you at your board, remember that the other is asleep upon your bed. 6. On Crime and Punishment Oftentimes have I heard you speak of one who commits a wrong as though he were not one of you, but a stranger unto you and an intruder upon your world. But I say that even as the holy and the righteous cannot rise beyond the highest which is in each one of you. So the wicked and the weak cannot fall lower than the lowest which is in you also. And as a single leaf turns not yellow but with the silent knowledge of the whole tree. 7. On Clothes Your clothes conceal much of your beauty, yet they hide not the unbeautiful. And though you seek in garments the freedom of privacy you may find in them a harness and a chain. Would that you could meet the sun and the wind with more of your skin and less of your raiment, For the breath of life is in the sunlight and the hand of life is in the wind. 7. On Prayer I cannot teach you how to pray in words. God listens not to your words save when He Himself utters them through your lips. And I cannot teach you the prayer of the seas and the forests and the mountains. But you who are born of the mountains and the forests and the seas can find their prayer in your heart, And if you but listen in the stillness of the night you shall hear them saying in silence, "Our God, who art our winged self, it is thy will in us that willeth. 8. On Pain Much of your pain is self-chosen. It is the bitter potion by which the physician within you heals your sick self. Therefore trust the physician, and drink his remedy in silence and tranquillity: For his hand, though heavy and hard, is guided by the tender hand of the Unseen, And the cup he brings, though it burn your lips, has been fashioned of the clay which the Potter has moistened with His own sacred tears. 9. On Friendship Your friend is your needs answered. He is your field which you sow with love and reap with thanksgiving. And he is your board and your fireside. For you come to him with your hunger, and you seek him for peace. 10. On Giving You give but little when you give of your possessions. It is when you give of yourself that you truly give. For what are your possessions but things you keep and guard for fear you may need them tomorrow? And tomorrow, what shall tomorrow bring to the overprudent dog burying bones in the trackless sand as he follows the pilgrims to the holy city? And what is fear of need but need itself? Is not dread of thirst when your well is full, the thirst that is unquenchable? 11. On Talking You talk when you cease to be at peace with your thoughts; And when you can no longer dwell in the solitude of your heart you live in your lips, and sound is a diversion and a pastime. And in much of your talking, thinking is half murdered. For thought is a bird of space, that in a cage of words may indeed unfold its wings but cannot fly. 12. On Beauty Where shall you seek beauty, and how shall you find her unless she herself be your way and your guide? And how shall you speak of her except she be the weaver of your speech? 13. On Death For what is it to die but to stand naked in the wind and to melt into the sun? And what is it to cease breathing, but to free the breath from its restless tides, that it may rise and expand and seek God unencumbered? Links to other Thursday Thirteens! 1. (leave your link in comments, I'll add you here!)

Get the Thursday Thirteen code here!


The purpose of the meme is to get to know everyone who participates a little bit better every Thursday. Visiting fellow Thirteeners is encouraged. If you participate, leave the link to your Thirteen in others comments. It's easy, and fun! Be sure to update your Thirteen with links that are left for you as well. I will link to everyone who participates and leaves a link to their 13 things. Trackbacks, pings, comment links accepted!

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Birthday Calculator
Topic: Metaphysical

"Hey Tige," I said to Mr. Tiger, the unimaginative pest of my psyche, "if you're like me, this page will be a blast."

'I'm not like you,' he responded too quickly. When he recognized what he had just said, Tiger did a swift about face and stated, 'I'm just like you - tough-minded, sensitive and happy-go-lucky. What do you have of interest today?" he asked pleasantly.

I laughed at the first part and answered the second. "It's a birthday calculator at PaulSadowski.com. You can punch in the month, day and year of your birth and then within seconds, you'll get statistics."

'I don't need that,' the pest confessed, 'My birthday is ancient and I'd rather keep it to myself. And besides,' he spoke sharply, 'I have no desire to find my soul mate.'

"It's not like that," I told him before going on. "Mine birth date is January 29, and I was born in 1948. One of the top songs that year was Buttons and Bows by Dinah Shore and I'm 1,855,466,597 seconds old," I said, reading aloud while looking at the data the computer turned up.

'Ancient too,' he said with insistence.

I went on without commenting on his insinuation and said the obvious. "Of course I know my astrological sign is Aquarius, and I knew too," I said throwing in what wasn't, "that my Life Path number is a 7, but I didn't know I was born on a Thursday - my mother had too many kids to remember that - and," I said a moment later, "I had no idea 1948 was a leap year."

'How'd you know your so called life path number?' asked Tiger, that aspect being of interest to him.

"Until finding this neat computer, I did it the old fashioned way," I responded before demonstrating. "Add the month - mine is a 1, for January. Then the day of the week - 29 for me, which adds together to be 11- actually a two when you add 1 + 1. And then," I continued, "the year. 1 + 9 + 4 + 8. All that translates into a 7. My life path is a 7.

Tiger became quite. My imagination was ignited. I went back to the site for some more fun. "I wonder what it'll instantly calculate for my kids dates of birth?" I said as I clicked back.

Flu shot or NOT
Topic: Health & Well-being
"Hey Tige," I said to Mr. Tiger, the stubborn and inflexible inner pest, "are you aware of the latest on the flu shots?"

'I've heard that the Center for Disease Control is urging all Americans to get their flu shots,' answered Mr. Tiger before showing off how knowledgeable he can be, 'Tamiflu, an anti influenza drug, can reduce the duration of symptoms.'

"Yes," I responded quickly, " only 50% of the time." And then without wasting mine to talk about the particulars of the neuraminidase inhibitor drug I asked another question. "But did you know that it has the harmful preservative mercury in it? And did you know that more than 100 new cases of adverse side effects have been reported?

'Mostly from kids in Japan,' answered Tiger as if that fact should immediately halt our discussion.

In spite of his callousness, I continued with, "Serious skin reactions, and bizarre neuropsychiatric events, such as delirium and hallucinations. And last year," I added to top this off, "12 deaths were said to be a reaction to taking Tamiflu."

Tiger shrugged while saying, 'What can you do?'

"When you hear all the media boosts calling for a demand for this so-called vaccine - without also mentioning the correlation between between the drug and the unusual side effects - a good first step is to ask some questions," I responded.

'I have none,' he shot back.

Instead of arguing with this kind of nonsense, I said, "Take note," as I linked to Mom's Against Flu Shots and a pasted page 1 from today's ABC News story, FDA: Tamiflu Patients Need Monitoring.

WASHINGTON Nov 14, 2006 (AP)— More than 100 recent cases of delirium, hallucinations and other unusual psychiatric behavior in Japanese patients treated with Tamiflu should have parents watching for similar reactions when treating their children with the flu drug.

That's the new advice from the Food and Drug Administration in adding a new precaution to the label of the influenza drug, prescribed about 2 million times a year in the United States.

The FDA updated the label after receiving the 103 reports of abnormal behavior, most of which involved children in Japan. Japan uses more Tamiflu than any other country in the world, with more than 30 million prescriptions since 2001. It's been prescribed about 8 million times in the U.S. since 1999.

The FDA said a relationship between the drug and the behavior had not been established and that the updated label was "intended to mitigate a potential risk associated with Tamiflu." It recommends that close monitoring of patients begin immediately after starting treatment with the drug.

The changes bring the U.S. label more in line with the Japanese one, which already warned that such abnormal behavior could occur. The previous FDA-approved label mentioned only that "seizure and confusion" had been seen in some patients.

Tamiflu is made by the Swiss pharmaceutical company Roche Holding AG. Roche spokesman Terence Hurley said there was no evidence the drug caused the rarely occurring adverse events.

Both Roche and the FDA also said that severe cases of the flu can spark the abnormal behavior flagged in the updated label.

Furthermore, the FDA acknowledged that stopping treatment with Tamiflu could actually harm influenza patients if the virus is the cause of delirium, hallucinations and other abnormal behavior, such as aggression and suicidal thoughts.

Health officials have been sensitive about taking any action that might dissuade people from taking Tamiflu, since the drug could play an important role in an outbreak of bird flu. The drug doesn't prevent flu but can reduce the length and severity of its symptoms.

--
page 2 continues.

Phrenology Revisited
Topic: Metaphysical

"Phrenology is always criticized by those who never studied the science, using rather obscure reasonings and aprioristic statements." - Dr. DESCURET, "La Medecine des Passions"


"Hey Tige," I said to Mr. Tiger, the blockhead of my psyche, "there was a time when Phrenology, the study of the shape of the skull, was readily accepted. A phrenologist was consulted by thousands of people to access a persons character, personality traits, and latent abilities. The bumps, and the size of the head were thought to be a clue to a persons propensities or even a good way to find a marriage partner."

'And what brings this up today?' asked the pest in his smart-alecky way. 'Are you ready to admit you are a bonehead?'

It's a good thing I've long since grown past the days when an insult like that would have me running to the mirror. I was able to calmly respond, "I find it interesting that this ancient object of study - one that was once eagerly embraced by the medical community has virtually disappeared."

'With good reason,' the paper tiger sassed.

"This old self-instructor book, as they called it, entitled Phrenology: New Illustrated Self-Instructor in Phrenology and Physiology with over 100 engravings by O.S. and L.N. Fowler, offers detailed "description of various traits detected by phrenology," I went on.

'An old book and an old topic - dead and buried long ago,' said Tiger and before he strongly suggested, 'It's nonsense.'

"Perhaps," I half heartedly agreed. "I've no real knowledge of this subject, just a tireless interest in anything pertaining to body shape, facial features, and head size."

'A foot fetish too,' Mr. Tiger accused.

"Hands also," I threw in to make sure not to leave the impression that my attraction was not an erotic fixation.

I ended with a link to The History of Phrenology and a copy and paste of an excerpt from My Battle for Life: The Autobiography of a Phrenologist by David, G. Goyder from an 1857 edition of a 481 page book. Text complied by historian Dr John van Wyhe who authored, Phrenology and the Origins of Victorian Scientific Naturalism.

page 124
...showy, but rather rambling lecturer; but people were generally disappointed at the conclusion of his lectures. His subjects were Mnemonics and Phrenology. He was very skillful in the selection of his pupils, whom he invariably chose according to their organization. He has passed from this natural state of being, and the conclusion of his existence was, I believe, embittered by poverty and neglect.
But, to return to myself. It was from Dr. Crook that I received my first phrenological impressions, and so firm did his instructions take hold of me, that from the time of his visit to Bristol, I noted the peculiarities of all I came in contact with, and then turned to their organization to see if those peculiarities harmonized therewith. I was often at fault, mistaking prominent bones for eminences of brain; and as I had no one to consult, I made many mistakes.
With a very superficial knowledge of osteology, and great dread of ridicule, I kept my opinions to myself ; but, from the time of my first hearing Dr. Crook, I became a portrait collector. I never found a person with a low and contracted forehead possessed of high intellectual ability ; and eminence of intellect I ever found associated with depth and breadth of forehead. My portrait collecting has continued; and, at the present time, a period of thirty six years from my first impression of phrenology, I think I possess the best collection of portraits of any phrenologist in Great Britain.
I continued to take notice of the formation of the head of the different persons I came in contact with. In other words, I began to reduce to practice my small amount of phrenological knowledge. I did this both with regard to children as well as adults, and my situation afforded me abundant opportunities for the study of character. I had a deaf and dumb pupil, who was largely endowed with the qualities of imitation and music. I wondered whether music could be considered as a primitive and independent.

more here: http://pages.britishlibrary.net/phrenology/other_texts/goyder.txt