Several years ago, I had the pleasure and the honor to teach the humanitarian side of Public Health policy at a major, East Coast, medical school. My students were talented, trained, gifted, and unbelievably strong and well-educated.
There’s a Devil’s Bargain in that little blue pill. Sure, we knew Viagra could cause blue vision in exchange for sexual pleasure, but who knew the Devil would take a second bite of our withering masculinity to cause hearing loss as well?
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Can avoiding Alzheimer’s disease be as simple as brushing your teeth and flossing every day?
As an ASL instructor at HardcoreASL.com, and as co-author of books on American Sign Language and as co-sponsor of the sosASL.com emergency communication website and, most importantly — as the Hearing husband of a Deaf Wife — I was shocked to learn a major hospital interpreter teaching program in the New York City area is instructing its students that the role of an interpreter in the patient/doctor dyad is one of a “clarifier.”
Can a quick dose of laughter bring calm healing to the body? Norman Cousins thought so, and now so, too, does the National Health Service.
Our tongues are being taken over by chemicals to invoke, for false profit, the taste and the memory of foods that no longer exist. This fooling of the taste buds — this mocking of experience with lies — provides us a context that crumbles in ignition and a present that only mirrors the past instead of finding reflexively inspired knowing.
There’s a new — virtually instant — HIV test that only needs 20 minutes and the spit from your mouth to determine if you’re infected or not. Blood is out. Spit is in. Shooting your wad has met its salvation in saliva.
We are all disposable. The longer we live, the closer we move to the trash bin.
As we age, and become less than we were, technology strives to keep us alive, to help the heart keep pumping and to keep the skeletal architecture of us strong and the impulse of our muscle twitching.
Over the last 24 hours at least 20 comments have been submitted — many broke our Comments Policy and did not get published — for my four-month old article on the Katrina aftermath called When Drowning Is Not Good Enough.
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