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Category Archives: Cancer Theory

I went back to the 4th floor ward where I was being kept against my will, not by force, but by signatures on a piece of paper. Two doctors had signed me in and Justice Hurley deferred judgment on the lawfulness of that detainment to the Board of Appeals.

This body would only be able to look at the continuing aspect of my detainment or treatment, not the lawfulness of the detention itself. That power would require the attention of a Supreme Court Justice. As of now, the Court of Appeals has allowed the Appeal of Justice Hurley’s ruling and a new date has been set to examine the issue. Initially the earliest date that was possible was September 21st, but after exerting some pressure the matter has been set for July 7th, 2017.

This is over two years after the initial detainment. Two years of having to deal with police and lawyers and CYFS prying into my life and demolishing my family unit. They say I’m ‘at liberty’, but I say I’m still detained and limited by their actions.

Thanks to the age of computers, a record of an involuntary psychiatric detainment shows up on my personal health files. Police records have been created, indicating I was detained for having a mental disorder. Anytime I interact with a doctor in the province, I have to fully explain the detainment and provide documentation to regain any sort of credibility. Police don’t care for documentation though, having already made up their mind and classified me as a dangerous radical.

While I continue this narrative, I’d like to discuss some of the long term consequences.

Prior to my detainment, I was starting a business and engaged in research in a field I considered of utmost importance to the public. I’d invested a significant amount of time, energy and money trying to champion the results of my research and its potential. I’ll try to summarize it.

I had discovered a non-toxic therapeutic protocol based on organic compounds available in seaweeds and hyperbaric therapy that targeted cellular metabolic disorders, including cellular senescence and cancer.

I had devised an organic strategy for combating climate change on a global scale through adaptation of agriculture and forestry practices. This research targeted controlled production of insects, mimicking certain natural roles they play in the environment. This allows the hardening of plants against infestation without harmful pesticides and triggers an immune response that promotes larger crop yields and increased growth rates. There are also additional uses in biodegradable plastics, medicine and a host of other fields. Newfoundland and Labrador stands uniquely poised to benefit from this advancement.

Since my detainment, work on both these areas has halted. In my view, this goes against the public interest. In fact, given that the protocol I’d developed would have saved lives in the last two years, the outright attack on my credibility which halted the progression of the research can be seen as an attack on the health and well being of everyone.

Beyond the attack on my credibility that came from the detainment there were much more direct and specific threats that came in the aftermath.

Because I’d spoken out against the Gaza massacre of 2014, my family was subjected to racist death threats online. A ardent supporter of Israel who lived in Grand Falls-Windsor began to stalk me online, threatening to murder my family and burn down my home.

This matter was reported to the RNC, but they refused to act on the information. This would eventually result in us leaving the province, although only after getting permission from the courts who were still pursuing me.

When my son was born in Cape Breton in July of 2015, CYFS showed up with armed police at the hospital to accuse me of being a criminal-terrorist-mental patient-drug addict that was trying to flee the law. This in spite of the fact that I had gone through the process of informing the court of my plans to take my family to Cape Breton for his birth.

CYFS would continue to follow us until January of 2016. The file was closed with the admonishment that I should avoid speaking out on social media to avoid suffering the consequences.

We moved in July of 2016 back to the West Coast of NL. Shortly after returning, I ended up back on CYFS’ radar for speaking out about the Don Dunphy killing and my detainment on Facebook when former Justice Riche made public his concerns in September. Within days, CYFS intervened to separate my family, creating an enforced disappearance situation where his mother was told not to contact anyone in the family or let them know where she and my son were now located.

I had no clue what was going on. I got a family lawyer, filed charges of abduction, then brought the matter to family court.

The justice ordered my son back to the province, but due to the statements made against me by CYFS officials, decided to remove him from the care of both parents.

Right now this is the battle I’m fighting. As much as I’d like to return to working on publicizing and disseminating the medical advances or means for addressing global warming, I’m still dealing with the consequence of the detainment.

Day 5 was otherwise fairly uneventful. I chatted with some of the other patients, had a meeting with my family doctor who assured me he’d sort out the medical marijuana prescription problems (he never would) and waited.

I’m silencing my social media accounts for a long while to give myself a break. I feel like I’ve been at war since last year. That is, unfortunately, how I see the state of modern discourse on social media. Wartorn and diseased by viral memes spreading racism, intolerance and ignorance that I no longer wish to wade through.

I didn’t even use my Twitter account prior to last year. Had no need of it. I only started using it during a Thunderclap campaign in June of 2014 to raise awareness about an organic treatment for cancer that even the ancient Egyptians knew about. Health Canada is directly lying to the public by claiming it (DCA) is only available as a byproduct of synthetic chemical processes instead of being bioavailable in red seaweeds.

When the massacre of Gazans began, I transitioned to using Twitter to try to raise awareness of Canada’s involvement in inciting the conflict. Our Prime Minister can be seen as playing a direct role in the rhetoric that lead to a massacre of children during the war alongside their civilian parents. His part was integral for providing international support and legitimacy. Had Canada been seen as opposing the war, it would have played out very differently in the International arena. However, our Prime Minister decided that Canada would stand with Israel “through fire and water.”

This wasn’t just a war on Palestine. This was a war on the family unit. The family unit has long been thought of as the most basic sub-unit of society. It was recognized and enshrined as such by the ICCPR, which Canada ratified in 1976. Alongside basic individual human rights, the rights of families are afforded a special status as well. Families become the tribes of modern society, with extended blood relations and intermarriage creating links between different tribes that span the globe.

To attack the protected status of family is to attack the extended tribe itself. To forever change the delicate balance of power between the rights of the citizen, the citizen’s family and the state. Dangerous precedents are being set. To forever silence entire families is to extinguish unique tribes of people.

Some people ignorantly insist that the definition of genocide must involve literally millions of people. And is usually associated with Holocaust-type activities.

Why?

Why are the most important factors how big your tribe is and how much money they have for PR and legal defense?

If your tribe only includes a father, a mother and a child, isn’t that a unique genetic lineage in and of itself? Shouldn’t a tribe of three be just as protected by law as a tribe of millions?

Why does genocide immediately have to be associated with trains and death camps? Why can’t it just be negative State interference with families?

The simple answer is that our ancestors accepted a certain amount of State interference in the family unit which has expanded significantly over time.

Following World War II, there was a whole generation of people that grew with parents who smoked, including during pregnancy. Women would go to work in smoke-filed environments. This lead to a lot of low birth weight babies and the Baby Boomer generation. It also lead to increased support from the State for medical interventions necessary to save the life of a low birth weight newborn.

This lead to a backlash in the next generation who grew up with the ‘perceived evils’ of smoking and avoided exposure to cigarettes to ensure a healthy pregnancy. High birth weight babies became the goal of the state interference. The health of the mother became secondary to her breeding potential to supply the State with the next generation of wage slaves, wage slave owners, support staff bureaucrats, lawyers and soldiers to defend the State itself.

Far from the State simply supporting the family unit as a unique tribe, the State forcibly subjugated the family unit to the wishes by attacking the defined role of women and children in the family. The State redefined the family unit along State oriented lines and goals. They created mandates which gave themselves power to further interfere with the family unit.

Where throughout history, child birth was accomplished without any necessary State interference, women in modern Western societies must undergo invasive and unnatural procedures to ‘protect’ their health and the health of their newborn during the birthing process. Thousands of books are available telling expectant mothers the millions of things that can go wrong. It’s like a variation of Murphy’s Law that encompasses the nocebo effect, the opposite of the placedo effect.

Worrying about everything little thing that might go wrong, will usually cause something to go wrong.

When the State combines the fear of child birth with the fear of dying you get a hypersexualized society with grossly overly accentuated definitions of the male and female roles in society. You end up with Miley Cyrus and Justin Beiber and a whole generation of music marketed at teens designed to turn them into mindless followers of trends. Sheep who only exist to follow their pop culture shepherds. Or Judas goats.

I call it ‘Death Blooming.’ I use a similar process in my plant-insect research. By exposing plants to insect breeding byproducts, a cellular response is triggered that forces rapid growth and nutrient uptake. The plants sense themselves as infested with insects and initiate a massive burst in growth, which also increases blooming and fruiting potential.

The State uses the same mentality against us with threats of terrorism and jihadists hiding under our beds. They make use think our country is ‘infested’ with our enemies who wish us harm. A similar tactic was used during the Red Scare-era of McCarthyism. Invent a threat lurking the minds of strangers that must be investigated by the State.

By using rhetoric that heightens our fears of both living and dying, the State creates a vicious circle of procreation. Fear of dying due to wars, plagues and poverty compounds our existing fears of dying of cancer or other ills of our increasingly sick society. This creates a drive towards sexualizing youth at a younger and younger age to ensure continuity of our species.

A similar process is currently occuring in Tasmania, where the Tasmanian Devils are fighting a battle with a rare parasitic form of cancer. The cancer is know as the devil facial tumor disease and affects large portions of their population. Once infected, a devil dies within 12-18 months from the condition as expanding facial tumors interfere with breathing and feeding. The cancer can also undergo metastasis and move to other organs in the body. Previously to this disease, the Tasmanian devil’s reproduction cycle didn’t commence until around the age of two. With the increase in mortality rates amongst the species, survival is being maintained as females of the species have responded by reaching sexual maturity at around a year old, half of their previous age. This can be seen as a natural species response to possible extinction.

Do humans have a similar response? Looking at Western culture, it would seem that we do. These cultures are driven by their fears and failings instead of their ideals. The fear of death, the fear of disease, the fear of poverty. The failings of racism, xenophobia and religious intolerance.

The fear of assault by those viewed as alien to our rigidly defined cultural viewpoints produces a false hyper-masculine image contrary to the health of the extended tribe. It creates psychotic totalitarian alpha male ideologies based on sub-segments of the species, nations or races, and allows them to become entrenched along lines that were previously occupied by religious thought. This creates the essence of Nationalism the the State devolves into. The worship of the nation or race above all else. Even God.

If you’re willing to put your nation above God, then where would you put the families of your neighbors? Certainly not higher than your own wellbeing or that of your family. What about families in other countries? They get put way down there. Dark skinned families in some place on the other side of the globe? The bottom of the pyramid that puts worship of the nation in place of God. It moves God from the position of supremacy overall in relation to the limits of State authority to the position of nothingness and powerlessness.

Biblically, this State of being is known the Abomination. Or Obamanation. Or Fordnation. Or HarperPAC. You should get the point. People using the media to set themselves up as idols to be worshiped. Demagogues. Gog and Magog. False hyper-masculine images. False father figures. ‘Father knows best.’ Stalin, Hitler, Mussolini, Hussein, Netanyahu, Gaddafi, Reagan and now Harper.

Recent political decisions regarding the religious adornment of Muslim women demonstrate the evident inversion of the pyramid of values in Canada. Demanding women ‘bare their face before Canada’ in the same manner a bride might unveil at a wedding is a very obvious inversion of the values Canada is based upon. The preamble of Canada’s Charter recognizes the Supremacy of God and the rule of law, not the Supremacy of Maple Syrup as a divine religious symbol one marries upon gaining citizenship.

Not only has Canada become an abomination, it also appears we are the end-time abomination warned about in all three Abrahamic Faiths. The Book of Daniel describes ten kingdoms united under a single king. In Canada we have ten provincial crowns united under a federal crown. We also have a Prime Minister who makes a lot of proud boasts and understands dark (racist) sentences. He also went to Israel in January of 2014 and declared Canada, the nation, would stand with Israel ‘through Fire and Water’, in the same manner that God stood with Israel in the book of Isaiah. In that manner he exalts himself above God. Muslims might recognize the Leader of the Reformers (Reform Party) who are corrupting the world mentioned in Quran.

Every piece of the Abrahamic puzzle fits so well into right here and right now that there really isn’t a way to deny it except through devout atheism or deliberately ignorant misinterpretation of all three religious texts.

So while you’re firing up your BBQs this Canada Day, try to remember what you’re really celebrating.

The unholy nation that legitimized cultural genocide and the rights of the State over families and the extended tribe we are all part of.

The unholy nation that has been warned about in a series of religious texts for thousands of years.

The unholy nation that is hiding the cure for cancer and other oxidative stress disorders.

Anyone who says “These are different times.” are using the same logic the Nazis espoused.

These are times when we take issue with the differences between us.

We take issue with people who wear different religious attire. We take issue with people who go to their church on a different day. We take issue with those of different skin color or even just different financial status.

These aren’t different times. These are Intolerant Times. If that is the case, I’m all for the End Of These Times.

If it means we can move past these petty issues that have plagued mankind in its infancy…

If it means we can move from endlessly attacking diversity to endlessly celebrating diversity…

If it means we can move towards a better and brighter future for all…

Bring it on.

I’ve been holding off on discussing matters proceeding through the court, but the continuing abuse of process is becoming exceptionally disturbing.

Let’s start at the beginning. I’ve been saying for a while that the lawyer for the Hospital committed perjury. This was a mistake on my part. What he actually did is known as establishing a false pretense. He presented false information as fact and ran with it on a public record. This same lawyer also happens to be the Head Adjudicator for NL Human Rights. He’ll have to answer for his statements as they seem to violate the rules of candor a lawyer takes an oath to uphold.

Another interesting fact from my case was the layout of the court room. They positioned the screen that featured my legal aide lawyers, as well as my parents who were calling in, on the side of the defendant. From the judge’s point of view, I had no representation present and the hospital had five lawyers as well as my parents calling in one their side. How is a judge supposed to properly weigh facts in his mind if they’re all being presented as a literal one-sided argument? The screen for my lawyers and family should have been positioned on the other side of the court room. It was a kangaroo court from the first moment to the last. The audio record won’t show the discrepancy, but there were plenty of witnesses.

Moving on to the uttering threats charge, the charges were dismissed for lack of an actual threat. For those of you with an understanding of computer logic statements, it amounted to an ‘If, then’ statement. I got the idea from an old common law case. Someone had placed his hand on his sword and said something along the lines of “I’d run you through right now IF not for that fact that the justice is in town.” The conditional ‘if’ in the statement defeated the charge of uttering threats by not actually being a threat. I found this out through wikipedia while researching a similar matter I had brought before me earlier in the year. The RCMP actually realized this during their investigation prior to the search warrant being issued, but they chose to proceed anyways.

At this point, it becomes a matter of a negligent investigation by the RCMP and RNC and an abuse of process by the Crown attorney who authorized my initial week long detainment. They saw fit to press a justice for the subsequent search warrant that led to the arrest of my wife and the seizure of all my research which still hasn’t been returned.

Despite the fact that the charges have been terminated, the RCMP are continuing to detain my research devices and say they’ll continue to request detention orders until the cultivation charges are resolved, despite the devices having no immediate relevance to the matter.

On what grounds can they keep these devices and deny me access to my business and research? The search warrant that brought them into my home had no legal and lawful framework. They may have been operating on good faith, but they also have a duty to determine if a crime has actually been committed. Otherwise they stalked me for issuing an idle non-threat. They just didn’t understand what constitutes a threat legally. Should have called a lawyer first. Ignorance of the law is no excuse.

Even if they were operating in good faith, the fact that I’d been detained and missed my Charter Challenge for no lawful reason still hasn’t been addressed in the slightest. Justice delayed is justice denied, and right now

The RCMP, RNC and others can claim they were acting with good intentions, but the road to Hell is paved with those. I’m sure the guards at the Nazi Concentration Camps thought they were just dealing with a pesky vermin problem so their good upstanding neighbors wouldn’t have to mess their clothes.

No matter how you slice it, the mentality of Nazism has taken hold in Canada and sunk its roots deep into Newfoundland. With our genocidal and slavery-stained past, it should come as no surprise to any student of Newfoundland’s history.

The rights of individual citizens, families, the poor and the disabled, are being abused and degraded in Canada, especially in Newfoundland. By underfunding the judiciary, hiring too many police officers without a proper understanding of the law, and choking our legal system with a “Tough on Crime” mentality, we lose the ability for the legal system to operate in a fundamentally just fashion.

Instead of an independent and efficient judiciary, I’ve seen Crown attorneys arbitrarily flout legal and ethical standards. I’ve seen lawyers operating in conflict of interest positions and not being penalized. I’ve seen police with no respect for their duty to uphold the Charter as the Supreme Law of Canada as written in our Constitution. None of these people are above the law. I submitted peacefully to the whole process, but now I’m not going to remain quiet any longer. The police and Crown have made a mockery of our court system to keep themselves employed. Not even to uphold the law. Just for money.

I don’t know about anyone else who reads this blog, but I’m sick of how closed off NL is to realizing the bureaucracy has become completely corrupt. People pretend it’s just minor corruption, but it runs deeper than you can imagine.

After all, Newfoundland is the only place in the world to have completed the genocide of a First Nation. Plenty of building and companies named Beothuk, but not a single member of the tribe remaining. No wonder people here can’t accept their sacrificial role in being the catalyst for the racial divisions, genocide and war that is currently occurring globally.

Don’t expect the change to happen because of some rally. Or some vote. No occupy or anonymous movement will save us. This has to be direct citizen to citizen action.

Talk to people. Explain your point of view. Explain that approval seeking bootlickers in politics will never be able to fix anything. True change requires a real effort. Politicians just step up to ‘manage’ or ‘facilitate’, but really they just take credit for the hard work of others. Nothing will come of waiting for a vote and expecting the governments to follow the law when they’ve already repeatedly demonstrated no respect for it.

We can’t ask for change. We end up ask beggars on the street.

We have to seize change and demand a return to a more free, just, open and democratic society.

My life as a political and human rights activist began as a transition from my life as a social entrepreneur which began as a tangent from my life as a pet owner. I broke this section into two parts to give it a full airing of the details. It might be a little much for some people, but I wanted to make sure I’m offering a complete version of what happened that lead me to my current place in life.

In the Summer of 2011, I was recovering from a workers injury that ended my electronics technologist career less than a year after landing the job. I had torn my right rotator cuff while trying to move a several hundred pound battery stack across a tile floor. Both shoulders were damaged, but my right arm was basically hanging off my body. I filed a workers comp form and received authorization for exceptionally strong pain killing medication. I chose to stick to just the anti-inflammatory medication and use pot for the pain as I healed. I was seen by a physiotherapist once and given Doctor’s orders not to do any heavy lifting.

This effectively ended my career with the tech company I was working with. Unable to risk having their project manager further injured, I was placed into a windowless cubicle and given a desk phone. All my work from then on would be tech support and paperwork. As someone who has always enjoyed hands on work, be it computer repair or planting trees, I was unable to adapt to life indoors behind a desk. I had to leave the company as the position I’d been placed in wasn’t what they’d hired me to do. I was left managing groups of repair teams who each earned more money than me and constantly called for advice. Unwilling to be forever squeezed into a windowless box, I left the company and spent the next few months fighting to obtain EI so I could finish recovering from my injury.

In October of 2011, I decided to get a pet dragon. I’d been introduced to Bearded Dragons from Australia through a friend who’d owned one. I’d been researching Australia independently because I’d heard that didgerdoo usage helps alleviate sleep apnea. That same week I saw a 75 gallon aquarium show up on Kijiji along with an ad from a local breeder who had a clutch of month old dragons he was selling. It felt like I was being guided towards having a pet dragon at that point, so I dove into the idea and went up to meet the breeder.

When he showed me a plastic tray with the few remaining dragons he hadn’t already sold, I was struck by how much they looked like tiny dinosaurs. Such tiny little perfect scales, intricate patterns and elegant feet. I put my hand in the bin to reach for one and they all scattered except for one. This little guy showed no fear of me whatsoever despite him being no bigger than my pinky finger. He just stood there with his head back and looked at my hand. This was Merlin and he became one of my most steadfast companions during the next two and a half years of my life. I didn’t realize it, but his influence would transform my life completely.

I drove out to Trout River the following day and bought the aquarium. Then I went to the local pet store picked up some lights and heaters and dry food. Next I brought everything home and set it up, leaving all the lights and heaters running through a full day/night cycle so I could check the temperatures. A little bit of research was required at this point to ensure I’d be able to create a good environment for little guy. If he didn’t have a warm enough place to sit during the day, he wouldn’t be able to digest his food. Once I was certain that the temperature and humidity ranges were suitable for a baby dragon, I drove up to the breeder and picked him up in a shoe box lined with my t-shirts for warmth.

I’d be sharing some pictures of his size for reference at this point, but even my family photos were seized by the RCMP when they took my devices. It’s funny how much value can be stored on one device, which can be unlawfully taken away and peered through by unknown people. They’ll be looking through photos of my nephew dying at 11 days old in a hospital shortly if they haven’t already. Sorry if it got a little dark there, but thinking about Merlin in a shoebox lined with a t-shirt reminded me of burying him the same way last year because I didn’t have the money to take him to a vet. All my pictures of him were taken when the RCMP seized my electronics to try to uncover a terrorist plot. I have a few on Facebook, but I took hundreds if not thousands of them. They’re being used right now to try to compile a psychological profile for someone who doesn’t exist.

Shortly after I got Merlin home and he was settling into his new surroundings, I was confronted by something I hadn’t fully prepared myself for when buying a bearded dragon. While adult bearded dragons eat mostly vegetables and a few bugs, baby Bearded Dragons eat mostly bugs. Tiny, wriggling, squirming, crawling, creeping bugs. Mostly beetle larva, crickets and another high protein species. Considering how far I’ve come and how much interesting research they inspired, I’m surprised at how revolted I was by them at the time. In retrospect, I’m not a big fan of most snakes or lizards either. I only jumped at the idea of a bearded dragon because… hey… I had a pet DRAGON.

This idea was later overturned when I realized that instead of me having a pet dragon, Merlin was being granted a human slave. To keep a bearded dragon healthy, you have to have a rigorous feeding schedule. You should keep their tanks clean of their poops, but make sure to check them occasionally to monitor their health. You have to be able to offer quality greens and discern the high nutritional value ones like collards from the low nutritional value ones like lettuce. Not all greens are created equal. You also have to pick through your feeder insects to make sure you’re not feeding them insects that are too big and may cause impaction. This caused me more grief than anything else. I have no problems baiting a hook with half an earthworm, but darkling beetle larva looked so much like maggots I had an deep aversion to touching them. They seemed so unclean and unnatural, despite the fact that they are eaten as a staple food in a good portion of the world.

As Merlin grew into his full size over the next two years his appetite increased along with him. Live insects are surprisingly expensive and it got to the point where the cost of Merlin’s groceries was a approaching a fraction of my own. To offset this, I decided to try my hand at insect breeding on a small scale. I wasn’t completely comfortable with having insects in my home, but the ones I was working with couldn’t climb smooth plastic, so I comforted myself with the knowledge they couldn’t escape.

They say necessity and politics makes strange bedfellows, but never in my life prior to these events had I imagined sharing a home with a family of bugs. Mice, carpenter bugs, and the occasional earwig are expected when living in an older home, but I never thought I would willingly allow in a family of beetles.

I bought mealworms from the local pet store, gave them a quick rinse to wash the ever-present mites off, then let them pupate into beetles. I set the beetles in a new bin and gave them bran and carrots as a food source. Within a few months, I had a new population of feeder insects for Merlin at a fraction of the cost. I began to think of them as my indoor compost bin for the vegetables that we had left over from our meals.

After about a year of trial and error, I settled into a much cheaper daily routine of taking care of my dragon and enjoyed the presence of such an odd creature from the other side of the world. It was like have a little alien dinosaur in my home that followed my movements like a sunflower follows the Sun. Taking care of such a small and unique creature added a depth to my life that didn’t exist prior to the fall of 2011.

I spent the winter doing point of sale repairs and installations for a temp agency operating out of Ontario. They made a habit out of billing their customers much more than their employees were getting, but that’s the nature of these kinds of shyster agencies and their contracts and I still needed to earn enough to live on. I went back to physical labour the following Spring doing landscaping in Pasadena. My old Boss called me up and offered me the kind of work I enjoy out in the sun, so I couldn’t refuse. I spent a whole summer tearing down a forest of trees on his land, as well as replacing old wooden fences with new metal ones. Having spent the winter trying to bring my shoulders back into working order, this was exactly what I needed to do to be healthy, spending a lot of time working in under the Sun.

By the time the fall of 2012 rolled around, I’d done a decent job of transforming the landscape I’d been working on.  I was still getting the occasional jobs working for the temp agency and my finances were in good order. I had stocks that were doing well and money saved in my TFSA. I had excellent credit and no outstanding bills. I was able to reapply for EI, although at this point I was basically getting less than a $1000 a month to live on.

As the winter settled in, I began to consider my options for work. I wasn’t interested in working for temp agencies for the rest of my life, and didn’t want to end up stuck behind a desk answering the phone. I started looking at the bugs I was raising and began to wonder if they might not give a clue to a direction forwards for my life. I knew that local stores were ordering them from outside Newfoundland, so I began to examine what would be needed to offer a local supply.

As I was trying to figure out what to do, my family was getting ready to experience a period of joy and tragedy. My nephew was born on November 10th, 2012 and it was a moment of exceptional happiness for the whole family. My parents came in and we were all so excited to see him and welcome him into our lives. We didn’t realize at the time how deeply his birth would shake our foundations.

The first moment I held him, shortly after he was born, I had a very mixed experience. As my brother passed him to me from his arms, joy and pride welling up in his eyes, I felt a sense of elation to see my little brother so happy at being a father. When I took his son into my hands though, the first thing I remember feeling was a stabbing pain in my left palm where I was holding him and then breaking out into a cold sweat. I still felt a feeling of joy at holding my new nephew in my hands, but it was tempered by a feeling of unease. At the time, I chalked the stabbing pain in my hand up to being unfamiliar with how to properly hold a baby and the cold sweat to anxiety at holding this fragile new bundle of joy in my hands.

I spent some time with the new Mommy and Daddy and my new nephew, then left them alone to get some rest, knowing I’d see more of them when they were released. They came home a few days later to a welcoming party that brought together both sets of grandparents to marvel at newest addition to their next generation.

Our joy was cut short when my nephew’s health took a turn for the worse. Despite repeat visits to a public health nurse regarding a jaundiced look he was presenting, they assured my brother and his wife that everything was fine. The last moment of peace we would have for a long time happened as they took him to the hospital to treat his jaundice with light therapy. By the time they’d arrived, his hold on life was beginning to fail due to an undiagnosed heart condition.

Affecting one in every thousand babies, my nephew had a condition known as a coarctation of the aorta. The blood flow to the lower portion of his body was suppressed by a tiny pinch in the lower half of his aorta that runs to his liver and kidneys. As those organs struggled to deal with the reduced blood pressure and building levels of toxins, his heart rate and blood pressure were increasing to try to raise the lowered blood pressure below the pinch in his aorta. This caused the blood pressure in the upper half of his body to increase and put too much stress on his heart. It could have easily been remedied in the womb through simple surgery, or with an injection that relaxes the smooth muscle walls followed by a minimally invasive procedure that opens up the pinch.

I know now that these symptoms are easily diagnosed from birth without any special medical equipment. Simply feeling the difference between the strength of the distal pulse at the wrists and the femoral pulse at the groin will identify the condition. It’s a simple test that takes moments and could easily save lives, but it’s not one of the current protocols for dealing with newborn babies in Newfoundland and Labrador.

Unfortunately, the doctor in the pediatrics ward where he was brought for treatment didn’t do this check either. He saw a baby experiencing a rapid decline in health and jumped to the conclusion that he was suffering from an infection instead of a heart condition. Despite being born in that wing days earlier, he couldn’t get immediate access to my nephew’s file which would have shown other symptoms of his heart condition, like his high heart rate at birth, and he might have reacted more appropriately. However, this information wasn’t readily available electronically and he treated him for infection instead, relying only on his initial assessment.

The first course of treatment when dealing with someone presenting with symptoms of an infection is to rehydrate them. Unfortunately for my nephew who was experiencing a cardiac crisis due to the inability of his kidneys to properly cleanse his blood and regulate blood pressure, this mistake would cost him his life. Increasing his blood volume without allowing his kidneys to restore the proper balance deepened his cardiac crisis, spiked his blood pressure further and ended up causing brain damage.

I won’t go into further detail on this matter, but in the week that followed my extended family travelled back and forth across Newfoundland and Nova Scotia to try to get my nephew some treatment. The hospitals we dealt with did a good job trying to come up with a million reasons why he’d suddenly taken ill. Genetic issues, infection, abnormal metabolism… they threw reason after reason at us until finally revealing they’d found the root of his heart condition. At that point the damage had already been done and he was barely clinging to life. He was removed from life support and passed on November 21st 2012 in the arms of his loving parents.  I can’t remember crying that hard at any other point in my life. To see someone so innocent, so free of any of the sins of this world, snuffed out after momentarily bringing such joy into our lives… it struck me as a crime against God.

I wasn’t until after we arrived back home, the house still covered in welcome posters and banners from the week before, that I began to think over what had happened. At this point we knew he had a coarctation, which was treatable, but didn’t realize the magnitude of mistake which had been made that first night. I contacted some nursing friends of mine and explained what had happened. They confirmed that the last thing a baby experiencing a cardiac crisis should be treated with is saline. A baby’s blood pressure is a very delicate thing. They’re so very, very fragile. Once they’d injected him with the saline, that very first treatment offered to a baby they thought to be experiencing infection, he was done for.

I spent some time trying to explain it to my family members individually, but they were still largely in a state of shock. That all came to a head one night when my brother’s wife logged into her work email account and found a letter from an anonymous source at the hospital. They’d been trying to contact her for the past week. The letter explained that the cardiologist had made a mistake and that my nephew would have been perfectly fine and healthy had it not been for that error they were now trying to cover up.

After a period of confusion, I had to be the bearer of bad news and tell them what I’d learned. Imparting to them such a shocking truth after going through such a twisted experience was hard on the whole family. We were all still in a state of disbelief, but I couldn’t leave this letter from an anonymous person hanging in the air. The family was so upset that more questions immediately began to emerge about what happened. It needed context. My background in biology is more extensive than my family’s, so what came as a natural understanding to me was foreign to them.

We agreed not to discuss it further. This may be the only time I speak this openly on the subject matter. I just want to further clear the air and illustrate that doctors are just as fallible as the rest of us. They’re prone to the same errors of judgment when presented with incomplete information. And just as prone to denying making mistakes to save themselves and prevent their authority from ever being questioned.

In the months that followed, I withdrew from my previous activities. I had a period of introspection and spent my last Christmas home in Labrador. We setup a special Christmas tree in our backyard for the nephew that was no longer with us. From then on, Christmas trees will always remind me of him.

After a few months of withdrawn grieving I decided to get my life back on track. I was still working with the temp agency, but also interested in starting my own business. I approached the local community development corporation with my idea surrounding insect production several times during this period and was rejected or ignored each time. I kept working on the idea and early in the Spring a friend asked me for a ride up to Canadian Tire to buy some fertilizer for his plants. I offered him a sample of what my mealworms were producing and the rapid results amazed us. I went back to the drawing board and began thinking up a plan to pair this fertilizer source with organic agriculture. It offered a means of establishing a business that created value-added products with no wasted byproduct. Everything that went into the business came back out as a higher value product, I just needed to formalize the idea.

In the summer of 2013, following a few weeks of meetings with the Navigate Entrepreneurship Center, I had the business concept fleshed out. I submitted it for review by Service Canada and the local community development corporation. It took 3 months for them to finally approve the idea. Total time trying to get into the process to be able to work on my business plan? 10 months.

During the approval process I met Misha and we’ve been almost inseparable ever since. It’s been a difficult road for us as so much of my money has been invested in an idea. The lack of local development opportunities has been stifling progress and leaving us struggling to make ends meet, even without exceptional circumstances arising to cause further conflict.

Shortly after being approved for self-employment assistance in November, my old apartment developed a leak in my roof over my bed due to a failed renovation that left heat pouring into my attic. Experiencing a complete disruption in my home life, my sleep apnea took over as my most pressing health situation. Having an absentee landlord who only bought the place from my previous landlord to earn some cash, he had little interest in spending money to keep the place livable. When I raised the issue as something that couldn’t be waiting on until spring, he served me with an eviction notice. Unwilling to deal with a landlord that would just shirk his responsibilities and wait until I moved out, I took the eviction as offered and moved out, letting him know on Christmas Eve that I had vacated the place. Dick move, I know, but I had just suffered through over 3 weeks of unhealthy sleep and was looking forward to getting some proper rest. I still paid full rent for the month of December.

Moving into the new place was a whole new experience. I had space to start up a lab in the basement, which led to me germinating my first marijuana seeds to experiment with. Prior to this I’d only been working with mint, which was great for tea but not much else. As a plant with a much more rapid growth rate, I’d hope that experimenting with cannabis would teach me how to grow a variety of plants indoors. If my current indoor garden is any indication, it has done that job quite well.

While all of this was new business planning and development was on-going, I had an older project brewing in the background coming to fruition. I’d been researching seaweeds as a source for a mitochondrial enhancer for oxidative stress related illnesses. In May, a quote from a movie inspired a whole new direction into my research that showed the compounds I was researching had played a well-established role in ancient medicines practiced around the world. I used this new knowledge to create a brief YouTube video to complement an earlier one and set up a Thunderclap to try to raise awareness on social media. I spent two weeks campaigning to build up supporters for the campaign and, to be perfectly honest, it came to nothing. Few people cared enough to bother reading the material, so it simply fell by the wayside for most. If you read back far enough in the blog, the information is all still available.

The Thunderclap was my first step at transitioning into from social entrepreneurship into activism. It was also the week that Merlin passed on suddenly. It was a very difficult few weeks. Not as difficult as when my nephew died, but it was still distressing to watch Merlin rapidly get ill and die practically in my hands. I buried him in June and planted some sunflowers over him to keep him company. I planted a little lilac tree over him last fall. I don’t know if the little tree has taken to its new environment, but I’ll be tending it once the snow melts.

The next step in my transition into activism happened a month later, but was shaped by time spent with Misha. She’s spent a portion of her life in Ukraine, so she brought me a unique perspective on the situation that was absent from Canadian news outlets.

While CBC was cheering on the fall of the previous Ukrainian government at the end of February, she was warning me that the people seizing power were those she’d previously identified as far-right extremists. The actions of the new government following the coup illustrated that mentality quite well as they cracked down on dissenters in Eastern Ukraine and tightened their grip on power.

Once Ukraine had conducted their formal elections under the guise of ‘trusted’ Canadian election monitors, the new President quickly legitimized the civil war between West and East Ukraine by declaring the dissidents to be terrorists. He declared a resumption of hostilities against the dissident/terrorists on July 1st, 2014. Canada Day. The Canadian Federal government cheered him on. After studiously ignoring politics for several years, I found myself horrified by the fascist and tyrannical tendencies that were now being displayed by the Canadian government.

As July progressed, other issues began to emerge. In the Middle East, the situation between Israel and Gaza was becoming ugly. Atrocities against children committed by extremist elements from both sides led to the resumption of rocket attacks and an escalation towards war. Like seeing a train wreck in slow motion, I watched both situations in the Middle East and Ukraine with great trepidation. The two situations then converged surrounding a very unlikely series of events that seemed too well-timed to be coincidental.

On the 16th of July of 2014, four children were killed on beach in Gaza. They were killed in full public view of people staying at a nearby hotel and the event drew outrage from media outlets stationed in the area. Israel announced a humanitarian window for the following day to grieve the loss of the children, but kept massing their infantry forces along their border with Gaza. As the humanitarian window was closing on the following day, MH17 was shot down over Eastern Ukraine. While media attention turned to the downed plane and the chaos that was ensuing in Ukraine, Israel launched their all out attack on Gaza.

Some people might not understand the level of brutality used in Israel’s war last summer. They think that all nations have a ‘Right to Defend’, but ignore the fact that the section of the UN Charter they’re using refers to the ‘Right to Defend Responsibly’. This refers to accepting responsibility for civilian deaths in a conflict situation. Accepting responsibility for war crimes committed by overzealous soldiers and for public figures that openly incite discrimination and genocide. Accepting responsibility for training soldiers that no longer see their neighbors as living beings worthy of their respect.

To illustrate the brutality of the conflict, I’m going to discuss some of the munitions used. The rockets launched by Hamas forces are basically homemade. They don’t have a very extensive range and their explosive power is limited. They’re a little scary when they’re aimed at you, but in the last conflict they simply weren’t effective at all. Israel has their ‘Iron Dome’ rocket defense system that lets them shoot down incoming rockets. Gaza has no such defense system.

While Israel has access to some of the most advanced weaponry on the planet, including nuclear weapons, I’m only going to look at a single type of munitions they used for comparison, explosive unguided artillery. Bombs launched like bullets from the ground that have a 300 meter kill radius on open terrain. Used in a city setting, that kill radius becomes much larger as explosive forces bounce off buildings and down city streets. While Hamas launched over 4000 largely unsuccessful rocket attacks against Israel, the IDF launched over 34,000 rounds of explosive artillery alone. This doesn’t count any form of missile or jet attack and also disregards the cluster munitions that were known to have been used in the conflict. It just compares the effectiveness of Hamas’ largely useless rocket brigade against the overwhelming violence of the Israeli response. To call this a case of overkill is to make the understatement of the century.

What came as a greater shock as all this was emerging was Canada’s stance. While we’ve traditionally been seen as Peacekeepers in the region, we abdicated that responsibility publically and sided with Israel. 9/11 was cited at the time as one of the reasons, but the truth is Canadian’s reason for supporting this war is more closely rooted in fear, bigotry and islamophobia.

On the 17th of July, as the world seemed to be descending into chaos with CBC ignoring the deaths and funerals of the four Gazan children from the previous day, I began trying to figure out Canada’s position. I was introduced to a propaganda video released by the Conservative Party to their Israeli supporters on the 16th of July that made me realize how involved Canada had become in instigating this conflict.

In the video, our current Prime Minister and then Foreign Affairs Minister advocate directly for war and genocide. He advises confronting the ‘dark forces’, a dangerous thing to say to an audience of predominantly white people. The quotes used in the propaganda video are taken from his speech before the Knesset earlier in the year. During that same speech our Prime Minister spoke of a ‘sophisticated language of hatred developed in the modern world for use in polite society.’ He used this threatening doublespeak to criticize the Arab delegation present, angering them to the point of leaving. Even back in January of 2014, he was angering and dividing people on racial and religious lines.

Flash forward to July and his same words are again being used to reinforce the idea of settling religious and political differences through force of arms. To me, this was so un-Canadian and wrong I had to speak up. The following weekend I typed up a transcript and analysis of the video, along with a list of charges. I brought it to the local RNC and requested they file charges.

Thus began my life as an activist.

My next post will cover how my forays into political and human rights activism resulted in my detainment on the 4th Floor the Western Memorial Regional Hospital for 6 days.

There is a lot of background information that is needed to fully understand what happened the day I was pulled into detainment by the RNC. A lot of the information is available online, but I’ll try to quickly summarize it for those who haven’t been following along very closely.

My name is Andrew Abbass. I’m a Canadian. I was born and raised in Happy Valley-Goose Bay in the province of Newfoundland and Labrador. My parents were teachers on Wing 5, the American-turned-Canadian military base in Labrador. I was born at the Grenfell Hospital on the base. I went to Mother Goose nursery, then St. Michael’s, a grade school under the RC Board across the street where my parents taught. I went to high school at Goose High. All of these buildings were located within a kilometer from each other. They’ve all been torn down. None of them exist at all anymore.

What does still exist are all the connections I’ve made with the family, friends, classmates, teachers, professors, doctors, nurses, optometrists, recycling depot operators, pharmacists, computer technicians, car wash operators, tree planters and community radio aficionados I’ve met during my time walking around on this blue marble floating in space.

These people have watched me grow and develop through school and go off to university. They watched me perform ‘The Cremation of Sam Mcgee’ in a junior high poetry slam while sweating to death inside a full set of winter gear. They’ve seen me sorting their recyclables with a smile, simply enjoying the feeling of turning one man’s trash into another’s treasure. They’ve watched me work like a dog dragging trays of trees off the beaten path of Pynn’s Brook into the woods so others could earn their daily bread one year, then join them in planting trees the next.

Just because my family name is ‘Abbass’ doesn’t mean my family doesn’t have deep roots both in Newfoundland and Labrador and Canada. If you go down to the Newfoundland Emporium on Broadway in Corner Brook and check out the family name register they have on display, you’ll see my family name at the top of the list. Says it means stern. We’ve been here a while.

My father comes from Cape Breton and is the son of a Lebanese barber who fought against Nazism and the Axis Forces in World War 2. His mother was descended from Scottish farmers and sea captains who built their families around Minasville, NS in the Bay of Fundy. She was also ‘stationed overseas’ during WW2, although for her that meant being in PEI.

My mother’s background is even more varied. She brings together a long history of families from Newfoundland and America. Her family tree research shows that we had family on both sides of the American Civil War, the Boston Tea Party, the War of 1812 and a host of other conflicts. She’s also got some native blood on her father’s side as well. With the number of times her family fought amongst themselves during the history of making her, it’s a miracle her ancestors survived long enough to produce her to be my mother, meet my father, and help him raise me to be the man I am today.

I don’t want to dig too much into family details or my own personal history, but I just want it known that I had a wonderful family life and upbringing with an exceptional extended family and some great friends. People who still understand the meaning behind the words ‘Family Values’ that others in the political arena toss around to win elections. Every chance at growth, development and education that could be provided was on offer.

As a result, I always done my best to be a good upstanding citizen and uphold the law, although I may have an overdeveloped sense of justice. I do smoke pot, but have a medical condition that it remedies. Prior to a few consciousness expanding realizations of the last year, I always considered it to be a victimless crime. I buy it, I smoke it, I get restful sleep and I feel better. No harm done to anyone, right?

The problem is that this isn’t necessarily true. The pot had to come from somewhere and the money ends up in someone else’s hands. Not knowing where it originates from leaves the door open for it to be coming from any criminal element interested in supplying it. It could be funding a gang of Hell’s Angels, some white supremacists, a terrorist cell, even human trafficking. You don’t know where that money goes once it’s left your hand other than back up the chain into mystery. The pot you’re buying could be funding the trafficking of more harmful drugs back into your own communities.

This creates a serious problem.

Unlike alcohol, which has no real medicinal value other than as a disinfectant, cannabis has an exceptionally long list of medical conditions that it benefits. Everything from stress, high blood pressure and chronic pain to nausea, glaucoma and cancer sees a benefit. There is a distinct need in society to obtain a source of natural organic relief that produces minimal side effects and has a long history of therapeutic value that spans our shared cultural history. Anyone who denies the therapeutic benefits of cannabis is beginning to sound as ignorant as those people denying global climate change as an actively occurring process. They may, in fact, be the same ignorant people. Time will tell.

Instead, there is an insistence and a belief that the first course of medical treatment in the modern world must be signature magic pills. Magic pills developed through esoteric patented processes that leave a person with a host of side effects that must then be remedied through other magic pills. It is the pipe dream of a madman. Instead of addressing the root causes of health issues in modern society, be they mental or physical, we allow pharmaceutical companies to draw a veil over our eyes. These doctors have been indoctrinated as high priests into the cult of the magic pill since Med school. They are plied with gifts and promises that their patient will be able to switch to a newer better pill with fewer side effects… in the future… once they work out the kinks… and it’s been approved. It is no longer a science at this point, it is now a blasphemous religion designed to imprison people within their own bodies.

They stop treating patients like people with friends and families and lives and start seeing them only as a set of disorders to be remedied with their toolbox of pills. It’s like putting a Band-Aid over the gaping wound after being shot in the stomach. Or having your mechanic fix the brakes of your truck with duct tape, clothespins and spit instead of manufacturer certified parts. It leaves you primed to break down further in the future in a manner which could be life threatening.

However, we blithely continue on down the road towards the pill-shaped prison. We remain unaware that just because someone has been granted the title of ‘Doctor’ by a school of thought doesn’t mean they know how to make you well.

In the case of psychology and psychiatry, we have a group of people that may have an exceptionally keen eye for categorizing symptoms, but when it comes to issues like the ties between mental and social health, they ignore root causes completely.  Instead, they rely on their toolbox of magic pills to mask the symptoms as best as possible to try to fit the person back into the hole they’ve created in their life. They play God with people’s lives in a manner befitting the worst Nazi medical experiments of history, but completely unaware of their actions. To quote a famous Jew from a few thousand years ago, “Forgive them Father, they know not what they do.”

I had a sharp reminder of that this past Fall when I almost lost my favourite Aunt. A change in doctors led to rapid changes in the dosage of her prescribed medication and then her personality. These kinds of things happen all too often in our overworked system. It’s not always the fault of the doctors, it’s just how each doctor’s time with each patient is limited and mishandled by the bureaucracy above them. They may be struggling to do the best in a system that simply overburdens both themselves and the patients. A system which forces them to suffer through inordinate wait times for the most simple of procedures which end up dehumanizing both the doctor and the patient.

Before I get too far off topic, I was talking about marijuana and its benefits. As the readers of this blog may know, I have been charged by the RCMP for the production of a controlled substance. For the last two years I have been conducting research using insects to produce a fertilizer and soil amendment that also acts as an immune stimulant. I’ve grown mint, aloe, snapdragons, dill, cilantro, garlic, vines, collards and sunflowers indoors under lights of my own devising. I also have a grapevine with a 6 foot spread growing in a 2 gallon pot of soil.

I’ve been building my research into a business with the help of people associated with Grenfell University. I’ve also got a number of other research projects on my plate. One is about using dihalogenated acetates in seaweed to restore mitochondrial function in cells. It relieves built up oxidative stress which is the prime trigger of a number of human illnesses, including all aging related illnesses. These compounds even directly address what makes cells become cancerous. But that’s another story for another day. There are a few blog posts about it on this site, you just have to read back a while. I hope to get back to work on it once the RCMP returns the electronic devices they’ve taken from me. I have a meeting with a research associate involved with the project this week and have a sample still sitting in storage waiting for examination. At least we have that much.

Back to the pot.

I suffer from severe obstructive sleep apnea due to enlarged tonsils so I can’t sleep on my back. I’ve apparently had it most of my life, but wasn’t diagnosed until 4 years ago. I’ve tried CPAP. I could take it for a while, but after about a year I couldn’t ‘stomach’ it any longer. CPAP users will know exactly what I’m talking about. I spoke with a local ENT about it and he wanted to perform a major surgery to correct the issue instead of just removing my tonsils. I considered it at first, but the month long recovery time made me say no. Just as well, a girl in the States ended up brain-dead after that same surgery a year later. That doctor has also unfortunately since died of throat cancer so I can’t even go back to discuss other options.

What does work for me is falling asleep in a particular position and sleeping restfully. If I toss and turn I end up on my back and then I stop breathing. My blood oxygen levels drop dangerously low, my heart rate and blood pressure spikes. I wake up without realizing that I’ve woken up, gasp for air for a while then fall back asleep in the same position. Repeat. I wake up exhausted and in a daze that leaves me mentally and physically drained and unable to focus on simple daily tasks like doing the dishes or laundry. Basically I’m the Elephant Man, but with the elephantiasis only affecting my tonsils. If either of us falls asleep on our backs we’re in trouble.

Pot remedies the issue for me.

With a properly selected strain, I simply rolled a joint or packed a bowl in my bong, Dr. Frankensuess, before bed. Lying down in the recovery position you’d put someone suffering from alcohol poisoning in, I can sleep peacefully through the night. If I happen to roll over and wake myself up after a short restful period, I simply take another toke from my bong and go back to bed. It provides for relief and a restful night’s sleep that I haven’t been able to obtain through any other offered method.

If I was in BC, I’d be able to get a prescription easily, but in Newfoundland the doctors are very nervous about getting involved in the process. Unlike the pill pushers who work for the pharmaceutical industry as drug dealers, marijuana growers and users have few people able to openly lobby for unshackling this medicinal plant from the criminal element that controls it in this province. This appears to be where I’ve stepped into that picture, although my story is much more complicated.

As I’ve stated previously, my research has been into developing processes built around insects. They’re basically lab workers capable of performing their function every moment of their lives not spent in an egg or pupating. They produce an amendment rich in the plant immune stimulant, chitin, the application of which triggers an infestation response from the plant. This trigger turns on the cellular defense mechanisms of the plant, increasing the rate of water and nutrient uptake and the efficiency of photosynthesis, as well as increasing the blooming and fruiting potential of the plant. This research has long term application in ensuring food sustainability not just for the Island of Newfoundland, but anywhere in the world.

While my initial research involved mostly mint plants, which made some excellent tea, in January of 2014 I decided to investigate its potential use on marijuana plants. I wanted to be able to study how the genetics of a single plant would be affected by the amendment my lab assistants were producing. I sprouted a number of seeds I’d been given of my favorite strain, green crack, and selected the four most vigorous of them for experimentation.

I took the first few months to train and bonsai the plants to keep them small and make them capable of supporting a high number of clones. When I started taking my first few clones to test their rooting potential, I was using a bubbler bin that I’m currently using to produce clones of my grapevines. I sexed the plants and determined I had lucked out and gotten four female plants to work with. I spent months studying the characteristics of the clones, with the ones that successfully rooted in the bubbler making their way into the 16 ounce solo cups that would be their final home. I studied the growth and flowering characteristics of each plant through their clones, how they responded to different environmental stresses, and how they responded to varying levels of application of my fertilizer. After over 6 months in the selection process, I decided on a single plant with the best flowering and rooting abilities. During this time I also developed a very simple small scale drying process using clothespins and paper bags. Up until this point I wasn’t producing enough marijuana to supply a single person with a regular medicinal supply.

I flowered off the remainder of the plants as they lacked the vigor of the plant I’d chosen, dubbed Green Monster or Lillian. I also decided to re-vegetate one of the other mothers, Vanilla to see if I couldn’t increase its rooting potential. It had some of the best flowering characteristics, but had the worst record for clones surviving the cloning process. I don’t even use rooting gel in my methods, relying simply on a clean environment and natural processes. I figured I’d give it another shot to see if I noticed any improvement.

While all of this was going on, I was doing my best to get my research business off the ground. I had contacts within Grenfell University, but they were stuck waiting for their lab to be finished and made available for use. I had financier interest, but no location to start my business. Instead of worrying about what I couldn’t get done at the moment, I kept my mind on what I was able to do.

After 9 months of experimentation, including much trial and error with a variety of light sources and ventilation methods, I settled on a single plant line to experiment, including a redesigned flowering tent that used LEDs for lighting and had a homemade odor reducing ventilation system. Even then I was still only growing tiny plants in cut down 1 gallon water jugs. I let plants vegetate a little larger at this stage, but quickly ran into problems with them not liking their roots being so constrained and crowded, so I had to step up to a larger container size.

I ended up settling on a mix of square and rectangular pots that gave me 1 and 2 gallons of soil to work with and allowed the plants to vegetate a week or two after establishing roots before putting them in to flowering. Green Crack has a short flowering cycle, between 50 and 60 days, depending on the ratio of THC to CDB you’re aiming for at harvest. I used a tie-down method to create a hybrid between a screen of green and a sea of green, but I kept the plants exceptionally small. I wasn’t aiming to traffic in marijuana, just to continue my research and hopefully hit a point where I could stop paying for it from outside sources. They usually don’t have reliable access to a stable strain for consistent delivery of medicinal benefits.

While this was going on, another situation was emerging in my life. The Love of My Life, who I will only refer to as Misha for the remainder of my story, became pregnant around the beginning of November. At first we were nervous about the idea of becoming parents and starting a family. My small business was struggling to find its footing and we weren’t seeing any support for the idea from the local business community or government organizations I’d been working with.

In November, the self-employment assistance I’d receiving to help me get my business started was cut off. I’d been filing requests with them for a whole year trying to have them recognize my sleep apnea as a disability that was having a negative effect on my ability to start a business. Having this acknowledged would have offered me an additional 6 months to get my business off the ground with more assistance during the entire period. Instead, due to ‘budget cuts’ that eliminated the group of people responsible for identifying and resolving issues around worker’s disabilities, no one remaining in the offices was willing to discuss the issue.

I had to borrow extensively from friends and family to keep my own new family afloat during the months of December and January. All of my issues were finally resolved in February after a few calls to the Citizen’s Representative, but not until after months of trying to ask local politicians and bureaucrats for advice on the matter. Threatened with legal action for discriminating against someone with a disability, the local bureaucrats from Service Canada caved and acknowledge that I might have a disability they’d ignored. They requested a note from my doctor that he’d offered to write a year earlier and within a week they’d backpaid me the money that had been withheld.

What went unacknowledged was that my credit cards, rent, student loans and electrical bills went unpaid for a while as I was trying to rectify the situation. I did my best to juggle the money around to keep them all happy while still buying groceries, but having a complete cessation of income while trying to get a business off the ground ended up putting me deep into a financial hole.

Around the middle of January, another worry crept into the situation. Misha, the Love of My Life, has very unique eyes. As the first term of her pregnancy came to a close, she started getting more and more bouts of extreme nausea and had a lot of trouble keeping food and liquids down. Her eye condition added to our worries as the unique shape of her eyes leaves her prone to retinal detachment. This is due to intraocular pressures created by the vomiting. One tough night left her with a temporary gap in her vision that made us both extremely nervous. It’s also an issue for the birth process itself, so it’s never far from our minds.

I started reading into stories of women who used marijuana during pregnancy and still gave birth to perfectly healthy children. I realized that the pot I’d been growing in small quantities for research could help her keep food down and reduce the vomiting. This would help keep both her eyes and the baby healthy. Lacking the ability to secure a simple prescription for such a complicated issue, I made the decision to become ‘a full-blown criminal’. I increased the number of plants I was growing in my bin, attempting to get a much larger harvest to supply our medical needs for at least a month or two until I could make further plans.

I was still 3 weeks away from the first decent harvest when my home was raided by the RCMP for my electronics for uttering threats on Twitter. This unfortunately occurred while I was detained. The RCMP were unable to contact me and took my electronics as they had no other way to determine if I was plotting some sort of secret attack. Instead they’re discovering I’m developing new medicines, technologies and methods to feed people. In the words of Mick Jagger: “You can’t always get what you want.”

In the week since I’ve been released from the hospital, I’ve had to resort to the traditional criminal methods to obtain medicinal relief. These include buying supplies from people who also have police officers in their family and are supplying to other people who have medicinal reasons, like cancer, for using marijuana. But these people are still considered criminals by a system created to benefit legal pill pushers. Dealers who push drugs with side effects like suicidal or homicidal ideation onto unwilling people. There is something very sick and wrong with our current society that needs to be healed sooner rather than later.

I wanted to tell this portion of the story before moving onto the next section about the specific tweet that got me pulled in. I think it helps explain why Don Dunphy’s story, that of a disabled outspoken activist and family man who was growing and using marijuana medicinally, resonated so strongly with me.

Don’s story could easily have been my story.

There but for the grace of God go I.

A research associate of mine sent me this a while back.

Thought it might be of interest to anyone who’s been following the seaweed portion of the blog, I can’t remember mentioning it directly.

Hypoxia-mediated downregulation of miRNA biogenesis promotes tumour progression

Here we report a previously unrecognized effect of hypoxia in the downregulation of ​Drosha and ​Dicer in cancer cells that leads to dysregulation of miRNA biogenesis and increased tumour progression. (Published 

You might notice that the recognition of this effect existing through the study of whale diving patterns was first published back on May 12th, 2012.

-Andrew

Been a over a week since I posted that last update, so I felt obliged to follow up on it.

Let me fill in a little background information on other things I work on for those who haven’t read down past the post regarding Canadian politics.

There’s a compound currently in use across the world called DCA. Dichloroacetate, usually as a sodium or potassium salt. It’s classified as completely synthetic, but it’s been shown for decades to have an effect on people and animals with mitochondrial disorders.

In 2007, researchers at the University of Alberta published research that showed it was shrinking tumors in lab animals. After researching the effect in vitro and in vivo, they theorized that the method of action was a catalytic effect on the mitochondria of each cell which was restoring basic functionality that is known to be lacking in all cancerous cells. Restoring this functionality allows pre-cancerous cells to return to normal and triggers apoptosis (natural cell death) in cancerous cells, shrinking tumors.

If it helps, you can think of the cell as a mini-computer in your body’s Internet. DNA is your cell’s hard drive where it stores all the information about how to build each of your cells and interact with neighboring cells. All the processing of this information goes on within the various organelles of the cell. This cellular fluid is the data bus that allows information to transit between these various sites and the cell wall is where it communicates with the cellular Internet. One of the most important organelles, the mitochondria, performs key processes that are essential to multicellular life. It controls efficient energy production through oxidative phosphorylation, as well as triggering important cellular processes like apoptosis. Think of this as sort of an Inner Engine that acts as malware protection for your cellular computer. It protects not only the cell, but the neighboring network of cells. When it malfunctions, the cell begins to lose its multicellular character, instead acting like the single celled or colony organisms that multicellular life evolved from. We call this malfunctioning state cancer.

The University of Alberta’s research was initially seen favorably as providing a foundation for a new non-toxic and non-invasive treatment for cancers that seemed to be broad spectrum. All cancerous cells steal their energy requirements from neighboring non-cancerous cells, producing their own energy through glycolysis, an energy production regime that produces energy through the fermentation of sugars. This energy production process takes place in the cellular fluid and is, evolutionarily speaking, one of the most ancient metabolic pathways. It’s common in single-celled organisms as it allows them to produce energy in the absence of oxygen. Multicellular life requires active mitochondria capable of using oxygen to produce energy more efficiently. When these newer metabolic pathways break down, we end up with cancer or other conditions as our cells strive for individual instead of multicellular survival.

What makes the mitochondria of a cell malfunction?

It can be any number of factors. Toxins, mutation due to radiation, genetic factors, or just general oxidative stress from diet and lifestyle. A single malfunctioning mitochondria doesn’t mean you’ll end up with cancer. Some cells, like those in your liver, have thousands of these organelles. Since the liver is responsible for dealing with toxins, the high number of mitochondria per cell make sense. It maximizes the cellular processing power available for removing toxins from the body. But if you pour enough toxins and stress into your body for long enough, even the thousands of mitochondria in your liver cells can go on strike.

This compound, DCA, seemed to have the potential to reactivate these important cellular functions. It alleviates oxidative stress by restoring mitochondrial function. This much had already been known for years, as that was its original use in both humans and animals prior to the cancer discovery in 2007. Several studies were funded by Health Canada and contributions from individuals, but no interest was ever found from the pharmaceutical industry. DCA is an off-patent compound. It was first synthesized and patented decades ago and that patent has long since expired. Because the compound is so simple, it’s difficult to make a signature version of the compound to produce a similar effect. Therefore, there’s been no commercial interest in funding research.

Since the initial publishing, new research has come to light that shed doubt on DCA’s ability to deal with broad spectrum cancers. The University of Guelph in Ontario released their findings in 2010 that DCA was ineffective against hypoxic tumors. When considering that the mitochondria requires the presence of oxygen to perform its energy generation, this makes sense according to the theory put forth by Alberta regarding DCA’s function. What Guelph found was that DCA was actually strengthen these hypoxic cells, making them more resistance to traditional forms of chemotherapy.

What doesn’t make sense is what followed. Instead of concluding that they should treat the hypoxia as a symptom that can be relieved, the conclusions out of Guelph were that DCA was simply unsuitable for use as a broad spectrum treatment.

Why?

This is where my thoughts entered the picture and my thinking went in a different direction.

In 2007, while the father of one of my friends was dying with cancer, I first learned of the DCA results published in Alberta. At the time, the research seemed exciting and innovative and really caught my interest. I knew the results were only preliminary, but the seemed to advance the knowledge of cancer in a bold new direction that looked to provide real answers. It gave me hope that the cure had been found.

One of the my first thoughts regarding this compound as I learned more was that it was incredibly simple. Structurally, it’s identical to the acetate ion (vinegar), but with two of the hydrogen atoms on the methyl-group replaced by chlorine. Why would a compound as simple as vinegar that has such a beneficial impact on cellular machinery not exist in nature?

Since the presence of heavier halogens like chlorine is foreign to fresh water lakes and streams, I wondered if it didn’t occur naturally in a marine environment instead. Sea water is full of heavy halogens and plants like seaweed concentrate it out of the sea water for their own uses. This is why seaweed is use as a source of iodine. In realizing that, I came to the conclusion early on that seaweeds might be an overlooked source of compounds like DCA, theorizing that iodine might replace the chlorine in the compound to produce a stronger analogue.

I wrote letters to researchers, posted in science-based forums, and emailed email listservs to try to find new information. The closest I found to the Iodine-based version of the compound was a bit of scientific research on tomato wound healing where they used sodium diiodoacetate to perform the electrophoretic seperation of RNA. The research paper mentioned a book from the 80s that described the method used, but that had been removed from subsequent editions of the book and I couldn’t find the original to learn more.

In 2011, after years of hobby research, I was directed to a chemical research site by a colleague. Through that site I found a link to research conducted by a researcher from New Zealand who’d been studying a popular edible Hawaiian red seaweed. The research had been published in the late 70s. The intent had been to determine what kinds of organic acids exist in the edible species. Sure enough, right there in the middle of the document was not only the chlorinated version, DCA, but the Iodine-based version I’d been looking for, and other compounds based on Bromine and a mix between Iodine, Bromine and Chlorine.

Just so we’re clear here, this research paper from the 70s proves that DCA is not a new synthetic compound as is currently put forth by the modern medical establishment. Evolutionarily speaking, red seaweeds are exceptionally old. They are among the first multicellular life to evolve on this planet.

Excited by this new finding, I fired up my email and forums and began trying to talk to people about the idea again. I was met with doubt and disbelief and one person who sent me the link to the Guelph hypoxia studies, which he believed proved that DCA was unsuitable for use. Because I’d been considering the source as occurring naturally in marine environments, I had a different perspective on the issue of hypoxia. Marine animals don’t have to worry about hypoxic tissue the same way us land animals do. They can live at depths in the ocean where the atmospheric pressure is so high that oxygen dissolves directly into fluids as opposed to being carried by the blood. This combination creates a niche where animals who consume large quantities of phytoplankton and krill, and also spend their days diving deep, would be receiving these potent anti-cancer benefits naturally. This would allow them to grow to a prodigious size and be able to fend off cancers with ease, relative to us poor land animals limited to a very narrow window of atmospheric pressure in our daily lives.

Hence blue whales.

To clarify everything so far, let me restate it:

  • Synthetic compound (DCA) turns out to have anti-cancer properties – 2007
  • My original hypothesis that DCA may occur naturally – 2007
  • Synthetic compound (DCA) is shown not to work on hypoxic tumors – 2010
  • Rediscovery that DCA is not synthetic but occurs naturally in Asparagopsis Taxiformis – 2011
  • Hypothesis that hyperbaric therapy eliminates the hypoxic symptoms  – 2012

Trying to put all this together, I made a video that tries to explain it as best I can in plainer language for a general audience. It received very little attention. There are a million people out there who claim to have found a treatment for cancer, I’d just become another crank with a theory in a very large pond.

Fast Forward to 2014

After publishing the information online in 2012 and sending it out to various research groups who promptly ignored it, I became a little discouraged about the whole problem. I’m not wealthy in the material sense, so I have no way of bringing these concepts forward myself. I’m currently trying to build another business to help finance my other research, but I’m having plenty of difficulty there, even though I’m working with a simpler concept that is easier to prove.

I did start eating seaweed on a regular basis after obtaining a regular supply of dulse from Real Raw Food in Vancouver so the idea was never far from my mind. I didn’t have access to a hyperbaric chamber or the money to go scuba diving on a regular basis though, so I was still searching for a way to obtain the full benefits. I hoped that more research would be completed that would verify my thoughts or that someone would stumble across mine and might trigger some inspiration that would lead them to the answers.

I built this blog, ParadigmSlip, as a means for cataloging some of the various research I’ve completed and for ease of sharing. I’d found it difficult to talk directly about these ideas because they’re so esoteric, so a blog seemed like the best way to keep my thoughts organized. I hadn’t done much work on the seaweed/hyperbaric cancer theory as I waited for more results of existing DCA therapy to be published.

During Spring of 2014, I was home watching the movie “The Fountain”, when I had an epiphany. The Fountain starts with a quote from the Bible:

Genesis 3:24 – So he drove out the man; and he placed at the east of the garden of Eden Cherubims, and a flaming sword which turned every way, to guard the way of the tree of life.

During one of the first scenes, the main character is accosted by someone with a literal flaming sword. The juxtaposition of the image of a flaming sword and that particular Biblical quote brought up an image in my mind from my research. Asparagopsis taxiformis, the same seaweed that I’d been researching for its health benefits, looks like a flaming sword that turns back and forth under water. The flaming sword wasn’t meant to be thought of as guarding the Tree of Life, but showing the way to the Tree of Life.

Red Seaweed even shows up at the base of the Tree of Life of modern evolutionary theory. It’s one of the first multicellular lifeforms to appear on the planet. It contains potent compounds shown to promote mitochondrial functioning that can’t form in fresh water sources naturally.

The idea that the mythological Tree of Life that appears in a variety of ancient cultures might have a common origin in red seaweeds instead of terrestrial plants set my mind on fire. I started digging through the mythologies of Mesopotamia, Egypt, Maya, and hordes of others looking for common links and finding many.

Another commonality that blew my mind was that all these ancient cultures who’d incorporated this red seaweed into their lifestyle to the point of venerating it were also monument building hydraulic cultures. Not only that, but with my understanding of the need for eliminating hypoxia, their monuments seemed to serve a purpose beyond being simple temples for religious worship or burial mounds.

They were hyperbaric chambers, powered by water.

There’s a lot more that I have to write on this subject, but I wanted to publish this much for today. Most of the next post will be in regards to the mythological and Biblical links.

—————————————-

Revelations 22: 1-3

Then the angel showed me the river of the water of life, as clear as crystal, flowing from the throne of God and of the Lamb down the middle of the great street of the city. On each side of the river stood the tree of life, bearing twelve crops of fruit, yielding its fruit every month. And the leaves of the tree are for the healing of the nations3

Honey is liquid gold.

Raw honey, diluted at the proper ratios, continually produces hydrogen peroxide as a natural antibacterial agent. Hydrogen peroxide is decomposed in vivo into oxygen and water. Drinking a regular shot of honey and water adds both oxygen and hydrogen peroxide to your digestive tract without the need for it to be carried there by the blood.

Combined with the dihalogenated acetates that come from red and brown seaweed (the original, most ancient and most powerful antioxidants), you’ve got the cheapest oxidative stress therapy ever.

—–
The Jewish historian Josephus noted that the name of the poet and prophet Deborah meant “bee”. The same root dbr gives “word”, “indicating the bee’s mission to give the Divine Word, Truth”, observes Toussaint-Samat. [Toussaint-Samat 2009]
—–

Beekeepers Have Low Incidence of Cancer

DCA IS NOT A SYNTHETIC COMPOUND.
IT OCCURS NATURALLY IN SEAWEED.

 

A discovery in the science of cancer has pointed the way towards naturally occurring compounds capable of treating cancers (as well as cellular oxidative stress in general) and a method for inducing a stronger systemic response through other naturally available options.

The non-toxic drug DCA, currently being tested in Canada, has been found to be present in seaweeds, along with a family of similar dihalogenated acetates. We’re trying to raise awareness of the facts below to push for this research to be completed.

University of Hawaii Research showing DCA and other dihalogentated acetates in dried Asparagopsis taxiformis: (see pg 151, 157, 194)

Cancer Resistant Niches – A Natural Mechanism for Treating Cancer in a Marine Environment

Ancient cultures have made extensive use of this compound in seaweeds as well.

Researchers:

To accurately verify this information for yourself, you’ll need access to a hyperbaric chamber, a hypoxic cancer cell line and a sample of dichloro-, dibromo-, diiodo-, or iodobromo- acetic acid or its salts. All of these are present in the essential oils of Asparagopsis taxiformis, also known as a limu kohu, an important part of the Hawaiian diet.

These items are fairly specialized, but one simple experiment could pave the way for a world where cancer has become a thing of the past.

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