Greetings everyone.

This week’s edition of The Arrow is going to be a cornucopia of topics I found interesting. I hope you do, too.

Dealing With Disasters

Let’s start off with a video of a talk Bill Gurley gave at All-In a few weeks ago titled “Searching for Feynman.”

Who is Bill Gurley? He is a venture capitalist who runs a fund called Benchmark in San Francisco. He was famously an early investor in Uber, which turned out to be very good for him. He does a lot of public speaking on many topics. This is one of his best.

A friend sent me the video, and I found it incredibly engaging. I hope you do, too. I don’t want to give it all away, so you can be as surprised as I was when Gurley finally got to the real issue.

At its core, it’s about regulatory capture. And those who are seekers for the truth, who constantly battle those who are blockers of the same. One of the all-time great seekers was Nobel laureate Richard Feynman. We need more like him today.

The only quibble I have with this video is that Gurley identified Zeynep Tufekci as a seeker, when, in reality, she was a blocker early on. He gives her way, way too much credit based on one thing she wrote. I’ve read a number of other things she wrote (which I in turn have written about), and I can tell you she was a blocker.

Anyway, give it a watch. If nothing else, you’ll be entertained.

The next few short videos are by William Makis, M.D. As you might recall, he is the Canadian oncologist who coached me during my bout with bladder cancer.

Case Reports

In the short video below, Dr. Makis first goes after all the people who have reproduced his dosage charts for ivermectin, fenbendazole, and mebendazole. In a recent Substack essay, he stuck up over 20 of these rip-off dosing charts, most of which used his name. In these charts, the doses are all over the place.

His Substack is behind a paywall, but you can see a couple of the rip off dosing charts attributed to him by outfits or individuals trying to sell these repurposed drugs.

He goes on in the video below to discuss where he came up with the dosages he uses for his own patients.

He said they came from MD Anderson, Stanford University, and Johns Hopkins – all large, famous mainstream medical centers. In my view, he is being a little bit disingenuous here. It seems he is implying that these centers somehow endorse the use of these drugs. Or that they ran studies on them.

This is not the case.

They reported what are called “case studies” in the medical literature.

What are case studies? Just what the name implies. They are studies usually written up and published by physicians about strange cases that don’t fit the textbook description of how things are supposed to go. Usually, they are so off the beaten path of regular medical practice that they are surprising to the treating doc. They get published so that other doctors can learn about these strange outcomes.

As the old saying goes: All science begins with observation.

Let me come up with a hypothetical, so you’ll understand how these things work. And follow it up with an actual case that had massive consequences.

Let’s say you’re a doc working in a clinic. A mother brings in her kid for a sore throat. You look in his throat and see that he has big, red, swollen, pus-covered tonsils. He’s running a fever. You suspect strep throat, so you take a swab. Sure enough, it comes back positive. Pretty easy diagnosis. You write a Rx for amoxicillin and tell the mom to bring the kid back in a few days for a recheck.

Mom brings the kid back, you take a look, everything looks fine. Tonsils are normal. Temp is normal. Everything looks fine. You tell the mom that it looks as if the amoxicillin did its job. She sheepishly tells you that they didn’t get the prescription filled the day you gave it to her. She was going to do it the next day. She was telling a friend about the doctor’s visit, and the friend told her to put a kiwi fruit in the blender, add a bit of water, make it into a loose puree and have the kid kind of gargle it then swallow. Since she couldn’t get the script filled till the next day, she decided to try it.

The kid’s symptoms vanished by the next morning. His fever broke. He felt great. So she didn’t get the prescription filled. The doc was stunned. He took another strep test, and it was negative. He then went to AI, and asked about the kiwi fruit treatment. AI told him there had been a few reports over the years that such a treatment worked, but that it was generally regarded as bogus by scientists.

This is the kind of thing a physician would write up and send to a journal. Usually a local medical journal. He would include a thorough history of the case. Maybe even a photo of the kid’s throat after the Kiwi treatment. Other docs would read this and think, Wow. Most would write it off as an aberration, but some might have had their own similar cases and add their comments.

A scientist who worked with kiwi fruit might see it and make the case that some strange component of the fruit had anti-bacterial activities.

Before we go on… I completely made up this scenario for educational purposes. I seriously doubt that a gargle of liquified kiwi would do squat for anything, especially strep throat. I’m simply using it as a fictional case of the sort that might end up in a case report if it actually happened. Do not try it at home.

These are what case reports are all about. They aren’t studies. They are descriptions of patient outcomes that are surprising.

It was the very Stanford paper Dr. Makis discusses that I found and read when I was trying to figure out what to do for my own issue.

The paper was titled “Fenbendazole Enhancing Anti-Tumor Effect: A Case Series.” (pdf link here)

The case reports involved three patients who were being treated by doctors of all kinds at Stanford. The subjects all had genitourinary cancers of one sort or another. Only one had bladder cancer (not two as Dr. Makis mentioned). All of them had issues with the chemotherapy they had been given. All started taking 1000 mg of fenbendazole three times per week. The paper doesn’t mention what prompted them to go the fenbendazole route, but for whatever reason they did.

And all improved markedly. The patient who had bad bladder cancer, much worse than mine, ended up with NED (no evidence of disease). Whereupon the oncologists recommended complete bladder removal. The patient basically said, Are you out of your mind? Why would I give up a perfectly normal bladder?

Because these three patients had outcomes most surprising to the oncologists, they wrote it up as a case study (three cases in this example).

The studies from MD Anderson and Johns Hopkins are the same thing. They didn’t do double-blinded, placebo-controlled studies. They reported findings that surprised and baffled them. So, they wrote them up as case reports.

In my own case, when I went to MD Anderson, the big honcho in urinary oncology saw me. I told him what I had done. And told him that since I quit the repurposed drugs in August, my tumor burden had risen from 3 to 10 to 47 to 92. I asked if that wasn’t evidence the drugs were working? He said: absolutely not.

Later in the visit, when he recommended the immunotherapy protocol I ended up undergoing, he explained that the part of it that did the heavy lifting was a spindle inhibitor (something that prevents cells from dividing). MD said to him, “Fenbendazole is a spindle inhibitor, too. Maybe that’s why it worked.” He stared at her as if she had two heads and spoke some alien tongue for a moment, didn’t say anything, then turned back to me.

Before writing about my made-up case report, I said I would give you a real one.

In 1961 a Dr. McBride from Australia wrote a letter to The Lancet (pdf link) describing how he had noticed babies born to mothers who had been taking thalidomide had developmental disorders in far, far greater numbers than those born to mothers not taking the drug.

Here is the entire letter:

This was a case report (or a series of case reports) in the form of a letter. Many doctors who read the letter responded that they, too, had seen the same. As we all now know, thalidomide was removed from the market as a consequence of these exact issues.

Thanks to James Lyons-Weiller PhD for tipping me to The Lancet paper.

Okay, next…

Repurposed Drugs and Chemotherapy (or immunotherapy)

In the Stanford case studies discussed above, all the subjects involved were undergoing, or had undergone, chemotherapy, radiation, etc. They added the fenbendazole to their regimens while continuing to take the traditional therapy or alone after the traditional therapy had failed.

In many case reports involving ivermectin, fenbendazole, and/or mebendazole, those taking these repurposed meds take them along with their chemo or other traditional cancer therapies. It is easy to look at these situations (as most oncologists do) and assume that the chemo or other treatment is doing the heavy lifting while the repurposed drugs aren’t doing squat. It’s what the honcho at MD Anderson did with me.

Dr. Makis makes the case that the two are synergistic.

I believe him. I took only the drugs for about six months. Then my consulting oncologist suggested I go to MD Anderson to get a protocol for immunotherapy. The reason she sent me to Houston was that MD Anderson is the best facility for the treatment of bladder cancer, at least in the eyes of those who revere mainstream treatment. So she claimed, at least. And since MD Anderson was regarded as the best, then Medicare would pay for whatever treatment they deemed necessary. She said that if I had the same treatment plan recommended by a garden variety oncologist, it might not be reimbursable as it would not be the standard of care.

She also signed me up for Natera and the Signatera testing, for which I am enormously grateful.

As I mentioned above, my tumor burden steadily rose after quitting the repurposed drugs. When I started the immunotherapy, I took a sort of watered down version of it. (Per the schedule I should have had an infusion of both these meds on day 1 and a dose of just one of them on day 8. I never in any cycle had the day 8 dose.) It took three infusions 22 days apart, and I was tumor free. I had a PET scan coming up in about two weeks after my third infusion. Since I was cancer free according to Signatera (an extremely accurate measure), I told my oncologist that I was going to bag the fourth infusion. He said, “You’re the boss.” Then he went on to say that if I did not take the fourth infusion and my PET scan showed there was tumor somewhere, we wouldn’t know whether it had been there all along or if it had come back because I didn’t take the last infusion.

I agreed with his reasoning, but in retrospect, I wish I hadn’t. The Signatera test is vastly more accurate and reliable than the PET scan. I still have a few issues from the infusion, but they are fading with time. Had I not taken the last one, would I maybe be shed of them now? Who knows?

My issues have been mild, which I attribute to the months of early work by the repurposed drugs. Had I not knocked most of the tumor out with those, I suspect my time on immunotherapy would have been much, much longer, and my resultant side effects worse.

One last video by Dr.Makis.

Repurposed Drugs and Reduction of Chemo Side Effects

In this one he discusses how ivermectin, mebendazole, and/or fenbendazole significantly reduce or even eliminate the side effects of chemotherapy. Even though I discontinued the repurposed drugs four months before I started immunotherapy, the treatment wasn’t all that bad. I attribute that to the job the drugs did long before.

If I had to do it over again, I would have continued with the repurposed drugs through the immunotherapy.

I have a friend who got diagnosed with bladder cancer a month or so before I did. His diagnosis wasn’t as bad as mine. He went through the standard of care and is now in hospice with brain, lung, and bone metastasis. He started off with the same immunotherapy regimen as I did. And it damn near killed him. Different people have different responses to the same therapy. Maybe I was just lucky, but I pretty much sailed through it. There is no way to prove that my taking the repurposed drugs prior to my immunotherapy made it easier on me, but I like to think so.

I’m operating on an n=1 (or, I guess, an n=2 if you count my friend), so take that for what it’s worth. But Dr. Makis has treated many, many patients with both, and his experience as a clinician mirrors mine as a patient (and a doctor).

On his Substack (paywalled), Dr. Makis usually posts a couple of patient responses per day. These are patients, like me, who he has coached. He posts their letters. They have various degrees of improvement, but most have been on chemo or immunotherapy along with the repurposed drugs. And often they write about how amazed their oncologists are at how well they respond to chemo, radiation, and other therapies. And how much better they get.

Economics and Baby Boomers

Before I get into all this, I’ve got to give you some idea of the qualification I have for commenting on economics.

I had always been pretty keen on mathematics until I hit algebra 1. Somehow I couldn’t understand the whole X thing. I just eluded my comprehension. I don’t know if I was daydreaming during the first day or what, but I was mystified by X. My grandfather was a long-time educator, so I went to him for help. He got out a stack of white paper and began to teach me. The first thing he wrote was the following equation: 12 = x + 8. He asked me to solve it for X. I was baffled.

He asked me, If you have 8 dollars and you need 12 to buy a bike, how many more dollars do you need? It took me half a second to say, 4. He said there it is. That’s algebra. X = 4. I immediately grasped it and never looked back. Somehow the symbol X had gotten into my brain as something mystical instead of just a stand-in for an unknown number. Once I got past that brain lock, I sped through the rest of mathematics, including five calculus courses in engineering school.

While there, I experienced another brain block. This one wasn’t as simple as the algebra one was, but it baffled me every bit as much. I was trying to learn Maxwell diagrams to calculate stresses on trusses. Maxwell’s diagrams are used to build bridges. I could solve the problems by following the instructions, but for whatever reason, I was unable to grasp the concept of how it all made sense. I finally did. It came to me in a moment of whatever. A flash of insight.. All of a sudden, I simply realized the concept. And I was off and running. (For any of you who are interested in learning about Maxwell diagrams, here is a video showing you the way I learned about them.)

When I was in engineering school, I had to take a number of classes in other subjects. One was economics. At the time, I didn’t even know what economics really was, but I had a great prof. And I ended up loving econ. I seemed to have an intuitive grasp of the subject. I took as many classes as I could and did well in them all. In fact, I made better grades in economics than I did in any of my engineering classes.

I loved it so much that I decided to change my major to economics. I made the announcement at dinner one night, and my old man went postal. “You’ll never get a job,” he screamed.

I had already changed my major once. I started out as a forestry major. Then I spent two summers working for the U.S. Forest Service (my only time as a federal employee) in the Sierra Nevada mountains in northeastern California. During those two summers, I realized the forestry majors did all the stuff I didn’t want to do, while the engineers did the stuff I did want to do.

So I switched to engineering, which deeply gratified my father. He was a salesman for a company that supplied road-building materials to contractors that built roads and highways. He was constantly dealing with engineers. He was delighted that I had taken up a course of study he wished he had taken

Which is why he erupted when I said I wanted to switch to economics. For better or worse, I let him prevail. I continued on with engineering and ended up working as one for about six years before I went to medical school. As it stands now, I wish I would have switched to economics.

Maybe I would have soured on it, as I did engineering, and still have gone to medical school. Or maybe not. But now I read almost nothing about engineering, and a lot about economics. But I have to admit that my engineering training probably served me much better in med school than economics would have.

Does that qualify me as an economist? Nope. But I probably know a lot more about the subject than the average bear.

With that prelude, let’s jump into it.

One of the economists I read all the time is Arnold Kling. He has a PhD from MIT and has worked in various capacities as an economist for years. I generally agree with him on most subjects involving economics, but we parted ways intellectually on one of his latest columns. He writes a daily Substack, which I read religiously. It’s not always about economics, but it is most of the time.

He also teaches periodically at the University of Austin. He often uses AI to put together his lectures. He, like I do, argues back and forth with it. A couple of days ago, he (with AI’s help) wrote “The Wolf That Never Came.” Click on the graphic below to read.

I’m not even going to excerpt it, because most of you probably don’t care that much about economics. So I’ll just give it the broad brush treatment. Those who want to read it can. And we can argue about it in the comments.

Essentially, here’s the upshot of the essay. It starts with Reagan, who cut taxes and increased spending, leading to a deficit. It continues with George HW Bush, who raised taxes a bit and funded the Iraq war. Then came Bill Clinton, under whose eight year tenure the budget was balanced for the first time in decades.

The article describes all the machinations of the various politicians, the Feldsteins, the Volckers, the Greenspans, etc., all of whom took various actions to solve the many looming economic crises. None of which really worked, yet the economy sorted itself out and by the end of the Clinton years, the deficit was zero.

But it doesn’t mention the one HUGE change taking place during these decades. It really started during the Jimmy Carter years (which are not mentioned in the Kling essay – he starts with Reagan). As those of you who live through the Carter years will probably remember, interest rates were at an all-time high. I remember seeing rates as high as 18 percent to finance a car.

These rates remained high (though they fell some) during the Reagan and Bush years. They didn’t start to drop until late into the Bush II presidency. Which is also not mentioned.

The issue – as I see it, anyway – is that the largest demographic blob in world history was working its way through the US economy.

That blob was the baby boomers. Boomers, for short.

The leading edge of the boomers was in 1946, when servicemen returned home from WWII. They got married, started producing babies, and didn’t quit until about 1964. In this period, about 75 million babies were born, me and MD amongst them.

For comparison’s sake, the US population in 1946, when all this started, was 140,638,000 people. The adult population was something less than that. The boomers alone increased the US population by well over half. That’s a big slug of folks making their way through the economy.

Just before Jimmy Carter’s presidency (1976-1980), the boomers were starting to enter the economy. They hit big time during his administration.

One of the ironclad laws of economics is the law of supply and demand. If the demand goes up, the supply goes down. Or it becomes more expensive. If demand goes down, the supply gets less expensive. The law of supply and demand can apply to anything.

When the boomers came of age, got out of college, and started working, what happened? It’s what happens to all of us when we hit working age and start our careers. We want to buy a car. We want to buy a house. We want to furnish the house we buy. Etc., etc., etc.

Since we’re just starting our careers, we don’t have the money to fork over to purchase a car outright, so we finance it. We may get help from our folks (I didn’t) to make a down payment on a house, but we still have to get a mortgage. The first furniture I ever bought, I financed through J.C. Penny.

Money, like everything else, obeys the law of supply and demand. When you’ve all of a sudden got a hoard of 75 million people trying to finance cars, houses, appliances, etc. the demand for money goes way, way up. When demand goes up, the supply becomes much more expensive. In this case, money becomes way more expensive, meaning the rate to borrow it goes up. Thus the 18 percent loans during the Carter era running on into the Reagan era.

If you follow the boomers through the years of the Kling article, you can see why everything that happened happened, despite the work of all the highly educated economists who strove to short circuit it.

And you can see why Bill Clinton was able to balance the budget. By the time he – a baby boomer himself – became president, the baby boomers were pretty much settled. They had their cars, their houses, their washers and dryers, etc. They weren’t out buying and financing as they were in the early days of the boomers hitting the market.

Even the low unemployment during the Clinton administration can be explained by the boomers moving through the system. By the 1990s the boomers were set. They had jobs, houses, etc.

The children of the boomers, who were vastly less numerous than the boomers themselves, had available to them all kinds of entry level jobs. Jobs the boomers had already moved on from as they climbed the corporate ladder.

Virtually everything in the Kling essay can be explained by the blob of boomers moving slowly through the economy. Not anything any of the ‘elite economic minds’ did.

That’s my two cents worth on it, anyway.

Okay, off to something more fun.

The Plague

By now, everyone knows (or should know) that a young female lab worker in Russia contracted the plague and died. This is the same plague that wiped out much of the population of Europe several times over during the Dark and Middle Ages.

As per usual, the media is blowing up over this tragic death and spinning tales of lab leaks and germ warfare.

The plague is definitely still a deadly disease just like it was centuries ago. The difference is, these days the plague is easy to treat. You just take an antibiotic, and Bob’s your uncle. Your plague is cured.

The only fly (or should I say flea) in the ointment is that the plague requires your doctor to be aware that you might have the plague. The index for suspicion is high in areas where the plague is endemic. In New Mexico, for example. The prairie dogs there carry the plague in much the same way rats did during the Middle Ages – via fleas. A few people come down with the plague every year, so doctors are on the lookout for it.

It’s not the same as, say, in Vermont. If you get the plague there, that won’t be the first thing that crosses your doctor’s diagnostic mind. Or probably not even the fifth.

And in treating the plague, time is off the essence.

So that your own index of suspicion might be higher, let’s get into what the plague is and how it’s treated.

First, there are two types of plague – bubonic and pneumonic. Both are caused by the same bacterium: Yersinia pestis [italcize]When we read about the plague in the Middle Ages and before, what we usually read about is the bubonic plague. This version typically comes from the bite of an infected flea.

Rodents are the principal reservoir for the plague. The bacterium circulates naturally among wild rodents and their fleas. Sometimes the rodents are killed by the disease, while at other times they’re not. You can catch the plague from handling diseased rodents, but that’s not usually how it is transmitted.

While rodents are the reservoir, the vector of the disease is fleas. Fleas live on the rodents. If the rodent gets sick and dies, the fleas look for another host. Usually another rodent. But they can end up on a human if one is at hand. And, if so, transmit the disease.

If a human sustains the bite of an infected flea, the lymphatic tissue tries to fight off the infection. The lymph nodes become enlarged and tender. These are called buboes, and they are a hallmark of the bubonic plague. The good news is that you cannot catch the plague from buboes alone.

But given enough time, the plague bacterium can enter the bloodstream and make its way to the lung tissue. Then it can be transmitted through droplets from a cough, or sneeze, or even a breath. This version is called pneumonic plague, and it is deadly.

The symptoms come on quickly, much like influenza, and are fever, chills, headache, body aches, weakness, and sometimes nausea or vomiting. These symptoms can include chest pain, difficulty breathing, coughing, and even bloody sputum. (The bubonic version pretty much remains in the lymphatic system for a while. These buboes are enlarged, painful, and take anywhere from a couple of days to a week to develop.)

People with pneumonic plague are pretty frigging sick, so they’re not likely to be out and around where they can breathe on you. If you don’t play with wild rodents or have them around, you’re not likely to get flea bitten. So, your odds of catching the plague are pretty remote. Even in New Mexico. But it pays to be diligent.

If you came down with the plague a hundred (or even 80) years ago, you were pretty much a goner. But now the disease can be easily treated with antibiotics – if you seek medical attention soon. And if their index of suspicion leads them in that direction.

Depending upon what stage the disease is when you present, you can get IV antibiotics and hospitalization if you’re pretty far along. Or you can get oral antibiotics and go home. The most commonly used antibiotics for the plague are fluoroquinolones, the most common of which is Cipro (ciprofloxacin), which I hate as an antibiotic. I hate the whole class, really. They can cause (sometimes) permanent tendon damage. I’ve written about them before. Another common antibiotic that kills plague is doxycycline, which is both cheaper and safer than Cipro.

I don’t believe we’re in any danger of an epidemic of plague anytime soon. But it always pays to keep it in the back of your mind if you develop any of the symptoms listed above.

Speaking of tiny vectors of infection…

So Very Small

I’ve been meaning to recommend a book I read several months ago, but I keep forgetting to do so. The plague reminded me, because the book starts out with the plague.

The book titled So Very Small is about the history of germ theory. It’s difficult to believe that not all that long ago, the most prestigious doctors in the world were believers in the miasma theory of disease. People became sick because of bad air. Not infectious diseases, which they didn’t understand or believe in, but bad air.

What makes this almost unbelievable is that Robert Hooke, a real polymath of the mid-1600s, using a primitive microscope discovered all kinds of little creatures, almost invisible to the naked eye. Not only did he observe these creatures, he had the artistic skill to draw them. Below is his drawing of a flea. (As a pretty good pencil artist myself, I am impressed!)

Not long after Hooke, another microscopist came along. In the late 1600s, Dutch lens maker Antonie Van Leeuwenhoek developed a much more powerful microscope than that available to Hooke. With his lens, Leeuwenhoek could actually see bacteria. He examined everything he could find from rainwater to the scum between his teeth, and found all of them teeming with little creatures.

One would think Leeuwenhoek’s findings would have inspired many physicians of the time to perhaps consider these tiny beasts might somehow be the drivers of disease. Though some folks – including Cotton Mather in the US – did wonder if these bugs could be the cause of disease, it wasn’t until the late 1880s – two frigging centuries later! – that the germ theory was elucidated by Koch. Even then it wasn’t accepted by everyone.

And it’s not because people were stupid back then. The same century that saw Leeuweenhoek’s work also featured work by Isaac Newton, Hooke, and other brainiacs of the era. Why did no one then twig to the idea that these microscopic creatures might have been the cause of so many illnesses?

So Very Small addresses the issue of various doctors and non-doctors sniffing around the edges, but never quite grasping the whole picture. The book is well written, and I flew through it. I have a pretty good grounding in the history of medicine, but I discovered much I hadn’t known. I especially enjoyed learning about a number of marginal characters in the saga I had never heard of. The author did a great job of digging up a ton of obscure data, all of which I did not know.

Odds and Ends

• Please don’t buy this for me.

• Earliest known traces of chocolate ever found east of the Mississippi. The craving goes w-a-a-a-ay back. Maybe those mound builders were into Trick or Treat, too?

• For the scientifically curious, why do some leaves turn red in the fall?

• Our favorite apple for slicing up with some salami and cheese and a crisp white wine is currently the Envy apple, which isn't even mentioned in this article. But if you've ever wondered who the heck Granny Smith was or how other apples get their names, look no further.

• In honor of Oktoberfest, here's an ancient Sumerian hymn to the beer goddess Ninkasi with instructions for brewing beer.

• Just in time for my (and my grandson Charlie’s) favorite time of year -- Halloween! A listing of the 20 most haunted places in America. 

• You know me and books, at least those of you who’ve been around a while. So you’ll know I couldn't help clicking to find out the bestselling book in the year I was born. You can find yours there, too.

Newsletter Recommendations

Video of the Week

I love this video for all kinds of reasons. It is former football great Deion Sanders commenting on one of the college players trying out for the NFL draft. Sanders is surprised that the guy can run so fast…because he is white. Sanders comment is priceless.

Just before I started high school, my father got transferred from Missouri, where I spent my early years, to the Detroit, Michigan area. We lived in a working class neighborhood peopled with all kinds of ethnic groups. There were Italians, Czechs, Poles, and a bunch of other Eastern European folks in the neighborhood. Our next door neighbors were Hungarian. Their mother lived with them and couldn’t speak a word of English. My first girlfriend ever from down the street was Irish.

Everyone joked about everyone else. There were Polish jokes, Italian Jokes, Irish jokes, and everyone thought they were funny. We, of course, were the hillbillies. We all sort of celebrated our own birthrights. Which, at least in my opinion, is how it should be.

Anyway, I wish there were more of that. I wish we could all celebrate our individuality without having to be so damn worried about it. And that someone with the stature of Deion Sanders wouldn’t be afraid of saying white men (usually) can’t run.

Time for the poll, so you can grade my performance.

That’s about it for this week. Keep in good cheer, and I’ll be back soon.

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This newsletter is for informational and educational purposes only. It is not, nor is it intended to be, a substitute for professional medical advice, diagnosis, or treatment and should never be relied upon for specific medical advice.

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