The Secrets of Lascaux

When four French schoolbys stumbled over the Paleolithic cave paintings of Lascaux in 1940, they brought to light one of mankind’s oldest and best kept art treasures.  One youngster was so enthralled and impressed by their significance that he became guide and guardian of the cave until his death in 1989.

The paintings have been dated to between 15,000 – 25,000 years BC, and were done at a time when the primary colours of red and yellow were visible to the human eye.  Yes, for a time, certainly as far back as 100,000 years BC, man perceived only one primary colour – red – and it was only much later that yellow pigments became noticed and used in art.  Green pigments, too, would have been in plentiful supply, and were every bit as long lasting as the reds and yellows, but did not appear until much later in our history.

Language also mirrors the evolution of man’s highly developed colour sense: the colour blue – while perceived and used in art by the Egyptians by around 3000 BC – did not appear in Greek and other Western civilisations until later, showing that evolution can vary between societies.


In the Vedas and the Zend Avesta the word blue is never mentioned once, while red and gold crop up frequently.  In the original Bible, the sky and heaven are mentioned more than 430 times, but no mention is ever made of its most striking and obvious feature – its brilliant colour. Homer’s Iliad and Odyssey were composed in a part of the world where the sky is bluest of all, and so striking that even modern tourists often stand transfixed on the airport tarmac, hardly able to take in its depth and brilliance – but in all those hundreds of pages its stunning colour is never mentioned once, by the most poetic man of their time!


Many scholars still puzzle over this as they are unable to appreciate that evolution cannot happen all at once; a recent BBC show suggested blue was never named by earlier societies because it was out of reach. And yet the obvious implications of Democritus’ reference to the “tri coloured rainbow” (red, yellow and orange) or Homer’s “wine dark sea” are never explained.

Remember people from earlier eras, even if limited by tools and perception, were as inventive and observant as we are today: consider these beautifully observed caricatures from France’s La Marche caves, dated at around 14,000 years ago: bandanas, hats, and an amusing view of an older man are recorded with considerable skill:

cartoon-youngster-hat-1 cartoon-solshenitsin-4 cartoon-2-young-men-bandana-3

The dilemma of the modern scientist is that they simply try to fit ancient eyes into a modern perspective: the sun, moon, stars and even the wind were also out of reach, yet there are names for these in all languages going back as far as research allows. We give names to what is important to us – and the stunning blue of the sky would be all around humanity from birth to death since the dawn of time. The only possible answer is that they named the sky but never the blue of it because to them it was simply a shade of gray, perhaps with a faint hint of red where it turns to purple overhead, being thinnest to our eyes and interfering least between us and the endless expanse of space.

Far from being overlooked, blue later became a highly important colour during the Italian Renaissance: the manufacture of ultramarine, named literally as “beyond the sea” – from Afghanistan – out of lapis lazuli (or “sky stone”) was such an expensive process that it was paid for by the client rather than the artist, and reserved for sacred elements of a picture such as Mary’s clothing.

The history of language explains further: all the words for blue emerged from earlier words for black:

For example, the English “blue” and German “blau” descend from a word that meant black. The Chinese “Hi-u-an”, which now means sky-blue, used to mean black. The word “nil”, which in Persian and Arabic now means blue, is derived from the name Nile, or black river, of which the same word in Latin, Niger, is also a form. (Max Mueller)

As further evidence of continuing evolution, consider that about 1% of people today, mainly women as it happens, are not trichromats – seeing three primary colours – but tetrachromats.  This means the chemistry and electrical signalling systems of the retinal cells (it took chemists decades to decipher the mechanism of the retina’s existing opsin molecules) as also the processing and perceptual areas of the brain have all evolved in tandem – a staggering achievement considering the interrelated complexity and differentiated construction of all these systems.  What are these colours?  We can’t tell, or be told, because we have no words to describe them.  But they would no doubt extend beyond blue and violet into formerly invisible wavelengths, and will become the common property of the future man just as we hold trichromatic vision to be an ordinary occurrence today, though as in all relatively recent evolutionary developments, there are some who lag behind and do not see the full spectrum as we do.


More well observed caricatures from La Marche circa 14,000 BC

But anyway, about Lascaux. Much mystery has been made about the puzzling symbols which accompany these fabulous – and very large – paintings, for which templates and scaffoldings were required, and stone and bone lamps too.  But remember that these painters were, to a large extent, us.  They had a similar sense of humour – as their cartoons indicate.  They had ingenuity and pride.  So here’s the explanation of these puzzling marks, which sometimes repeat themselves and each which clearly cannot be fashioned by adjustments into any other such mark.

lascaux signed by MM

A combined M and W identify an early Monet

They are the signatures of the artists.  Who would spend weeks or months on a beautiful work of art, risking their neck with unreliable lights high abive the ground, then leave it to someone else to collect the credit?  Of course, they are the signs of the individual artists.  In one example, shown above, the ochre is marked as the work of “M” while the specialist black airbrushing, done via a hollow bone, is signed with a stylised “T”.


This is, as far as I know, the earliest use of such a symbolic alphabet and it means we owe the development of symbolic language to artists first and foremost.  But this character-based identification is quite common in that society: for example, what good would it be to participate in a hunt in which a dozen or more men armed with bows and arrows could all claim to have shot the crucial arrow or spear?  Therefore, tips were marked so the warrior could be identified and given credit:

photo_ 030

photo_ 029

And tools were marked the same way.  Here we see a bone lamp marked as in a library card, allowing for multiple owners but ensuring the identity of the current owner was not in any doubt:


The letters and signatures may seem crude to us, but they are bursting with pride and ingenuity.  So important was creating art and the identification of artwork to a particular artist that these urges provided the spark for a gigantic leap into the symbolic representation of the human identity.  It’s a tradition that has lasted throughout the centuries to this very day.  Hats off to these brilliant souls!

photo_ 032

Many other such marks can be seen, but pointing them out ad infinitum would be to belabour the point


The colossal scale of Lascaux is hard to understand until we realise some of the animals are eighteen feet across.  Holes for scaffolding were made: this was no random, time wasting exercise but a highly organised event from men who clearly understood the significance of time and the need for planning 

One final observation: is it possible crafty old Michelangelo – always fearing the “second death”, that is, the fading from memory of an artist’s works long after his body had pased into oblivion from the “first death” – managed to work a massive, repeating “M” into his Sistine Ceiling?

Knowing artists.. I wouldn’t put it past him!




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When Your Parents are Late

It was a frantic, but happy morning – we were getting ready to take mum and dad to the airport. Mum busy tidying the house, dad his jovial self.  We were nearing the point where we were going to be late – something we all usually avoif with extreme precautions, that backlash in a comical way.  Anyway, that day was going pretty smoothly, I remember that.

I can’t recall the date, but for sure it was a Canadian Autumn.  Dad was showing me this beautifully printed Group of Seven calendar, one month to a page, trying to impress upon me a certain date.  How did he get a calendar for a future year?  He never explained.  I was more interested in the print quality, and those Autumn colours.  If only I paid more attention..

I was getting ready quick as I could but as the baby was crawling around my feet being cute, I could hardly move my legs for fear of collision – looked for my phone to film him, because my girlfriend adores babies and would’ve loved to see his antics, but couldn’t locate it – must have been in the living room with the suitcases or something.

Finally, all set to go.  20 to 11: we were 20 minutes ahead of schedule.  So there was still time, yet also a strange feeling of urgency: something was about to happen.  Uncharacteristically, I thought, they asked if I too would join them on their flight.  But something didn’t seem right, and my answer surprised even me: there’s no need – when I wake up, I’ll already be back in England..

Gradually I became aware of the rain outside, the weight of the duvet and that 1:00 a.m. silence, and a feeling of loss.  My parents had returned to the beyond, and I to my Earthly life. The good news is they seem happy – and I’m glad they stay in touch!


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Why I Love Art

Three amazing things happened this month.  I chanced to meet a postman (actually a lady!) standing in for our usual postman – who stopped to ask if this was my house, with the fresco on the side.

We talked a while about the neighborhood and how she used to paint and live in London; she said she loved being assigned this particular route because the gigantic picture of a country village cheered her up.  She looked forward to it, enjoyed it for half her journey down the street, and pondered on it afterwards.

That was a fine day for me.  Then on the spur of the moment, I sent a fresco tile – the first I’d attempted back in 2012 – to a man in Mexico who had been very helpful to a family member.  The tile looked a little forlorn by itself so I sketched a cartoon on the back – an enthusiastic Pope about to slap “one more coat of paint!” on the Sistine Ceiling – and packaged it off to the Americas.  It also gave me a chance to try a Bedford packaging firm who promise an indestructible packing crate for anything – literally anything – and it turns out they do exactly that.  It arrived intact and turns out he was moved by this much more than I’d expected.


So far so good.  But days later something quite extraordinary happened.  I’d been invited to a local school to see about helping create a mural there.  And when the day finally arrived and I met the art teacher, long after the school had closed, I found two of the children, aged about ten, had stayed behind to give a presentation just for me.  Now this was something!

Sure enough, they’d made a Powerpoint show entitled, incredibly, “Meeting Iain Carstairs: the chance of a lifetime”.  And this presentation, all about their school and why they wanted to create a mural, was really well put together – it had a narrative which they took turns reading out, each picture transformnig into the next: one image folded itself up into an origami swan, and flew away!  It was simply marvellous.  This was overwhelming enough but then I was asked to autograph some pictures they’d taken of the fresco, and even their pencil cases!

It’s hard to explain how moved I was by their enthusiasm and sincerity, because these days we often have to work in a vacuum.  For example, I remember giving a 1993 presentation in which one manager had gasped in astonishment and I’d been puzzled to see his enthusiasm vanish when his neighbour quietly elbowed him in the ribs.  I later found that staff had been specifically briefed in advance not to show any enthusiasm in case we charged more money for our radical new product.  This is absolutely true.

It’s natural to hope your work has some influence for the good, but you also suspect it’s a very diffused thing, almost subliminal – a drop in the bucket for those drenched by TV and big budget films vying for attention.  So to find what you did with a paintbrush on a rickety scaffold has really influenced someone can be daunting, especially when you remember any shortcuts you took.  Say, during a freezing Christmas Eve snowstorm with water running down your neck and lime water eating your skin, panicking over no time to buy gifts and cards now long forgotten, as the shops began to close and the light grew dim – now you understand those hours saved hurrying up cheated someone, somewhere, out of something.


Inevitably, there are two morals coming our way.  One – if you believe in something, you must give it everything you’ve got, because someone, somewhere is going to appreciate it – and those people are precisely the ones you’re working for.  And the other – if the school wall I’m hoping for is made available, it must become the best thing I’ve ever done!


To the cave painters: thanks for going to all that trouble – it was worth it!

Coming soon – in no particular order:

  • a long-standing mystery of Lascaux – solved!
  • the miracle of fasting!
  • the booklet to end all wars!
Posted in Art, Fresco, Pigments | Tagged , , | 4 Comments

A Bitter Kind of Medicine

As readers know, I was diagnosed with stage III squamous cell carcinoma, head and neck, early 2013.  It hadn’t been bothering me and from photos must have been there a decade but I wanted to know what it was.

According to the medical experts, my delaying chemo, radiation and surgery even a month would prove fatal – each of which I found, according to published research, does significant damage, with only about half the patients surviving five years, but all with permanent disability to some or all parts of their head and neck.  If you want a blow by blow account of how corporate medicine deals with cancer of the oral cavity, try this book by one with ultimate faith in it, and none at all in alternative medicine, the late lamented John Diamond:

Snake Oil

Diamond lost his voicebox and part of his tnogue to surgery; the book details his withering views on alternative medicine

People who survived chemo and radiation told me it was the most awful experience of their life.  “I lived for the last [radiation] session,” one said. “It was pure agony.  I willed myself to survive until that day came and went.”  A Nottingham seller of the Big Issue who’d had tongue cancer shared his chemo experience, urging me to accept it too.  “I won’t lie to you, mate; it’s like fire going through your veins.  I wanted to die.  But I have a kid – so you get through it – because you have to.”

Being someone who puts off tackling a splinter, I knew like 25% of such patients, I wouldn’t survive the first year.  But that turned out to be a blessing, because for the next two and a half years I travelled the Earth looking for another way, and in the process met more than a hundred wonderful souls I otherwise would never have known.  Earnest professors, bow-tied surgeons,  immunologists, ex-oncologists, no-nonsense nurses, therapists, surgeons, MDs and maverick inventors from Italy, California, Texas, Mexico, Lausanne, Germany and rural South East England.

I met a KCL lecturer, specialists at London’s homeopathic hospital, and an oncology professor who, alarmed by the Conservative Party’s treatment of the NHS, turned his hand to politics.  I was under the care of the son of immunotherapy pioneer Josef Issels, who’d stood up to Nazi Germany and was punished by a stint on the front lines followed by years in a Soviet gulag.  A doctor in his twilight years who worked at MSK, and survived pancreatic cancer who told hair-raising stories of one treatment – if you can even call it that – involving complete removal of the jaw.  I winced.  My God, how long did they survive? A sad smile. “Not long, thankfully.”  There were vivacious, warm hearted female surgeons and specialists at one of the world’s best hospitals, the Angeles in Tijuana, one showing me pictures of her hometown, which was paradise apart from the lack of jobs.  One renowned oncologist turned inventor cured a close friend of Vladimir Putin and was thus invited to sit beside the Russian President at a Moscow parade.  I conferred with alternative therapists in Germany, Switzerland, America and England, many of whom had backgrounds in oncology and surgery, some to the tune of thirty years.


Pacific coast of Mexico

Then there were the patients – dozens from every conceivable strata of life: all friendly, eager to share their knowledge without any thought of personal gain.  A gorgeous actress from Seinfeld, now in the Californian Hills.  A wild-eyed London musician with pancreatic cancer who’d spent all his money on one last record and tour simply because he’d been told he had a year to live.  He then found alternative therapy and recovered completely.  How did he feel now, I ventured one day as he drove me to the station.  Puffing on a cigarette: “I feel f***ing broke, mate!”  I’ll never forget the large, jolly Kuwaiti who had almost undergone a very risky surgical procedure for kidney cancer.  But when he’d asked why they would attempt something so radical with such a low chance of success and the reply was “well, you’re going to die anyway,” he walked out, never to return – and walked into the alternative therapy world where I’m glad to say he was doing well last time I saw him.



That I know of, only four patients I encountered while in alternative clinics had been through chemo, radiation and surgery before our paths crossed.  All younger than me, one a little more than half my age.  A bright eyed, frightened American lady in the final stages of breast cancer, her controlling and highly disapproving family (who’d insisted she undergo chemo and surgery “to cure her” 18 months earlier) hovering nearby.  Terrified they might overhear our conversation, she slipped me her email address so I could report on my next stop in Santa Barbara.  A dear, frail Canadian soul, brain withered by chemo, with his devoted wife, searching for his last hope.  They inched their way into the clinic, sat down carefully, introduced themselves and detailed to us fellow patients, laid back with our IVs, how they’d travelled from Canada to Europe, then all throughout America, before arriving here.  There followed an awkward pause – my specialty:  “So… were you searching for cures, or fleeing the law?” Thankfully they laughed.

There was a Raytheon employee, a smiling Vietnamese man with an advanced case of my disease; so warm-hearted he refused to accept any rare off-label medication from the clinic’s MD unless I too was offered the same; at the age of nine he’d walked three months through the jungle to escape the savage American bombing.


Machu Picchu, Colombia

A stunning Colombian woman cared for by her dutiful 16 year old son, had undergone radiation and sacrificed her layrnx to surgery but now, years later, struggled with a nine centimetre tumour in her throat which had started to break down – and therefore expand – under slow, natural therapy.  The case seemed hopeless.  After an emergency tracheotomy she was airlifted to New York where, once again, they began radiation.  After the first session she pleaded that she couldn’t face another.  I won’t ever forget her WhatsApp message:  “Iain, they say to me go home and die then, not waste their time.”

Sadly all these four seekers after health have now passed away.  The last, the man who’d insisted I share his medicine, only two weeks ago after a bruising experience of radiation in which he, too, sacrificed his voice.  I received a beautiful message from his wife, and I’m very honoured to hear he remembered me.

It might be called medicine, but some of it seems a very bitter kind.

Posted in Cancer, Cancer: A Second Opinion, Cancer: The Problem and Solution, Chemotherapy | Tagged , , , , , , , | 3 Comments

The Pen of Science: Still Mightier than the Sword

Cheney reacting to 9/11

September 11, 2001: Self-elected Vice President Dick Cheney watches nearly three thousand of his citizens meet a grisly end.  Cheney declared an investigation “wasn’t needed” and asked Senator Tom Daschle not to investigate at all.  Eventually he refused to testify unless (1) it was behind closed doors (2) no writing or recording would take place (3) he would not be under oath (4) George Bush would testify at the same time, by his side.  Clearly nothing to hide, I think we can all agree

No matter who you may be, where you may live or what you may believe, the events of 9/11 changed your life.

It was the pretext for the invasions and the bombing campaigns which plunged the entire middle east into war, creating hundreds of thousand of refugees (the UK-France channel tunnel was closed at Calais only a few days ago by a large crowd of  refugees), leaving somewhere between one and four million dead, and shattering millions of lives.

Operation Iraqi Freedom liberated Iraq's gold and oil, but little else

Operation Iraqi Freedom liberated Iraq’s gold and oil, but little else

It was the pretext for the Patriot Act and the NDAA, allowing dissenters to be arrested and imprisoned indefinitely without ever knowing the evidence which prompted their kidnapping.  It was the pretext for a chain of black prison sites in which ordinary people disappeared – many through simple cases of mistaken identity, confusion or on the hear-say whispers of undisclosed others – some never to be seen again.  Many still languish in Guantanamo Bay, without having been charged of any crime.  It was the pretext for unprecented surveillance of your phone calls and emails, a project strenuously denied and fnially sheepishly admitted by the NSA – a fine example of trustworthy governance.

In another secret campaign, strenuously denied by both Bush and Blair for years and only admitted under the weight of incontrovertible evidence years later, some of the unfortunates delivered to Guantanamo Bay were first shipped to other countries – including Egypt – for torture.  Two Iraqi civilian arrived, as an inmate later reported, “in catastrophic shape, lacking their fingernails and toenails, blood still running from their ears and nose, grown men weeping like babies”.  Others met a grisly end in Uzbekistan dungeons, from which survivors reported hearing “clipped British accents, directing each of the interrogators’ questions”.

Syrian refugees wait outside turkish border

Syrian refugees wait outside Turkish border. 9/11 was used to justify the looting of Iraq, a chaos which caused the rise of Western-backed ISIS, which was used to justify Western bombing of Syria, creating 2m refugees

Some were kidnapped from international airports on the orders of Jack Straw and Tony Blair, and shipped to Gaddafi’s dungeons. Unluckily for Straw and Blair, one such dissident later became commander of the Libyan rebels, and demanded Britain admit to what its henchmen did to his family.  These particular victims, paid off this year by well over £400,000 to avoid an embarrassing court case, included his daughter (“these people stole my childhood”) and his heavily pregnant wife – taped immobile to a stretcher, with – in an astonishing act of cruelty – one eye taped open and one taped shut, by two masked men and one masked woman, all with British accents, for an “excruciating seven hour journey” to Libya, where they were immediately chained to walls.

The head of Mi5 was to write jovially of the affair to Gaddafi, still in power at the time: “I do hope you have received the shipment” in a letter later found by rebels raiding Gaddafi’s files.  That was one very expensive letter, for you and me, that is – since all the desperate hush money thrown at victims was taxpayer money.


During the US-led invasion of Iraq, the country was systematically looted of its gold and oil reserves. As one Iraqi refugee – now a taxi driver in Toronto – explained to me: “everything now go to America.

Perhaps, you feel that none of this affects you.  But, if you’ve flown since 2001 and were manhandled, humiliated or stripped in the name of “terror prevention”, or, like Professor Richard Dawkins, had your jar of honey confiscated after check-in, you’ve been affected by 9/11.  Speeches are still made hearkening back to 9/11, to justify more surveillance, more laws, longer prison sentences, secret tribunals, drone bombings, or the battering down of various doors in the name of “terror prevention”.

police state

The police forces in America now meet protests dressed in the same combat gear used by US invasion forces and varying only in colour; in more recent photographs, even the colour is now a uniform Marine khaki.  Likewise, armoured cars and even tanks are given to police forces to patrol even small town America

The rise of the American police state, where officers can no longer be distinguished from US military forces dressed for the desert in the middle east, the current chaos in Iraq and the subsequent rise of ISIS can be squarely blamed on the invasions justified by 9/11.

14 years later, every week without fail, newspaper headlines scream of “terror” as if they, too, were somehow keen on stoking it.  But why?  Well, a moment’s thought is enough to realise that few of us, hardly any of us, actually an infitesimal fraction of nine billion people, have actually seen an act of terror in real life.  The only place we see it is in the media.  So for terror to stop having any widespread effect, all the media would have to do is refuse to report it.  Tell us the facts if you must, in a restrained, factual way.  But they do the exact opposite.


Forgotten? How could we? And in September 2015, lest the multi billion dollar killing machinery empire run into protests from those paying for it, Dick Cheney – along with his far-far-rightwing daughter – have threatened “bigger attacks, with worse weapons, to come”.

What they fail to tell us is even more telling: the damage from US drones hitting wedding parties, school children, farmers, families, houses, villages.  As it turns out, entire countries are raising generations of children afraid to go out.  The sound of an airplane overhead is enough to scare them witless after constant attacks by circling reaper drones.  Not because of their media, but because all gatherings of people, bystanders included, are targets for incineration.

The bodies are never identified by America: if they were standing up they’re “suspected militants“; if sitting down: “plotting terror attacks”.  Babies are “collateral damage”.  Seeing frantic friends and family wading thrugh the rubble of his devastation, Obama saw an opportunity: let’s bomb the rescuers.  Seeing the crowds at the funerals he saw another opportunity: let’s bomb their funerals, for Christ’s sake.  What did they call this brutal murder?  “Double dipping”.  Our media don’t care to report on the victims and the trauma we’ve left them.  They’re nobodies.  When they come fleeing to our shores we protest they’re “chasing our benefits”.  The New York Times wordsmiths daintily call drone bombing “a vexing constitutional issue”.  War criminals?  Tsk!  A few bad apples.  La-di-dah.

michael hastings inferno

Journalist Michael Hastings was highly critical of Obama and the Pentagon who, he said, “had declared war on the press”. The only recourse was “for the press to declare war on them”. In June he confided to friends he was onto a big story, but felt he was under surveillance. “I’m going to go off the grid for a while.” Concerned friends set up a meeting on June 20th, 2013, for him to tell them what he knew. The meeting never took place: this photograph was taken on June 18th.

We’ve heard only last week that £20 billion is needed for our terrifying nuclear killing machines ..“to prevent terror.”  I’m not kidding.  Yes, someone is getting very, very rich from the terror industry – for that is precisely what it is.  A new and booming business in which oil and gold and lithium mines are commandeered and looted, countries bombed back to the Stone Age, dissenters kidnapped and imprisoned, or incinerated by reaper drones from afar, citizens treated like dirt, and mass surveillance undertaken in secret – with the catchphrase: “if you have nothing to hide, you have nothing to fear.”

exploding towers 1

“Some people have suggested that the weight of the tower crushing down on the girders caused them to flex and they sprung sideways by a spring action. But we are not seeing isolated jumping girders. We are seeing a major fraction of the mass of the building .. reduced to small pieces of rubble and fine dust, and being explosively ejected in all directions.” Beyond Misinformation, p 21

And this catchphrase comes, incredibly, from those who for fourteen long years have avoided and dodged any scientific investigation into the most significant crime of 9/11 itself: the destruction of the World Trade Center buildings!  What has the government got to fear? Well, read on, and you’ll find out!

Yes, if you live on Earth, 9/11 has most certainly affected you.  So it may come as a shock to hear that the most significant cause of death on 9/11, the collapse of buildings full of people, was never scientifically investigated.  The evidence was cleared away before investigators were allowed on the scene, and physically destoyed or shipped to China before it could be examined.  The causes were never explained.

The perpetrators – whoever they were – remain unnamed and unpunished, and free to strike again at a time of their choosing.

Science to the Rescue: Beyond Misinformation

bookletBut now the first scientific study of the World Trade Centre’s collapse has been published, entitled Beyond Misinformation.  And I think this single document is quite capable of causing the terror industry to collapse at the same rate of free-fall acceleration, carrying with it the crooks, profiteers and assorted psychopaths who plundered the middle east, sacrified millions of lives, caused worldwide terror and sectarian strife, and made vast fortunes at our expense.

Science reveals how those three mighty buildings fell – towers 1, 2 and 7.  The first two were seen live on TV, but the third is almost never mentioned in the media despite it having been a colossal 47 stories tall, larger in mass than any steel framed building in Britain.  A group of 2,500 architects and engineers have backed the publication of this 48-page, lavishly illustrated report which comprehensively demolishes the media’s thrice-daily repeated story of what happened on 9/11.

Molten Metal 1 Pg 31Despite what you’ve been led to believe, the astonishing conclusion of this report is that these three mighty towers were not brought down by fires, nor by the aircraft crashes these buildings were specifically designed to survive.

They were brought down by a high grade, highly specialised explosive material called nano-thermite.  To judge from the physics of the events and the ample visual evidence, charges were installed on every single floor and against every major column of these three towering structures, well before 9/11 itself.  Incredible though this may seem, this is what science says about the destruction of the three World Trade Centre buildings.

Molten Metal 3 Pg 33Tens of thousands of copies have already gone to decision makers and political figures in America, and I was fortunate last week to receive a crate full which I began to distribute to newspapers, police stations and MPs here in the UK.   Until we know who demolished the Trade Center buildings, we cannot be sure that elements within the government itself are not the very terrorists we have been told it is a criminal offence to support.

This eye-opening report is thoroughly researched, full of science, revealing photographs, witness statements and pages of references.  Its review committee includes a

  • Professor of Engineering and Physics from Maryland
  • a Professor Emeritus of Civil Engineering from Canada
  • a Professor Emeritus of Civil Engineering from America
  • the former Head of Architecture at Kingston University, London

..and other fully qualified professionals in the fields of Archiecture and Engineering.  The report dismantles the NIST report, which can then only be seen as a cover-up based on speculation, not science.  In fact NIST’s report flies in the face of known science, some statements being so blatantly wrong they could never have come from even a high school science student, and it is suprising to find NIST did not even attempt to explain the full collapse of the towers and did not even check for explosives, probably because they were told not to.  For a document which cost millions and purports to explain the murders of nearly three thousand people, this is an utter disgrace.

Just as I offered on Twitter, the first 30 people who send me their address will receive a free copy when the 3rd mailshot goes out this week.

If we really want to bring an end to the terror industry, the first thing we must do is find who rigged the buildings, and who pressed the button.  We need to know who authorised the killing of nearly three thousand of our fellow human beings in New York via the demolition of the World Trade Centre buildings.  And the sooner, the better.

Explosions Eyewitness p 442015-09-11-13_34_18-Beyond-Misinformation3-777x286Explosions Eyewitness p 45

Posted in 7/7 Bombings, 911, 911 scam, Accomplices, Afghanistan, CNN, Fallujah, Haditha, Iraq, Massacres, MathsMovesU, Mick West, NBC, NY Times, Raytheon | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , | 8 Comments

Meditation and DNA

The following is an abbreviated version of an article written by Skye Ranier and published on

It includes the research of DNA expert Bruce Lipton and experiments reported in Plos-One, all of which reinforce other research presented on S & R from vaious sources including New Scientist: it seems meditation is now mainstream science.


Pioneering research in the field of epigenetics has revealed a connection between beliefs, emotions and thoughts, and changes in our DNA. Previously it was believed that our genetic code was unalterable; although we do inherit our genetic code from our parents, the idea that it is permanent and unalterable has been proven false.

A number of groundbreaking studies demonstrate that everything from our environment to our food can alter genes in a number of ways. Take for example this study conducted by researchers at the Benson-Henry Institute for Mind/Body Medicine at Massachusetts General Hospital: 26 adult participants without prior experience were taught various mind-body relaxation techniques such as meditation, mindfulness and mantra.  All participants were given comprehensive blood tests preceding and following 20 minutes of self-directed practice. By looking at nearly 22,000 different gene sequences, the study’s authors were able to identify and measure changes during and after practicing the various techniques. Source:

Across the board, all of the participants showed measurable changes in the specific genes that researchers had previously identified as being related to or responsible for aging, relaxation, metabolism and even insulin response. The measured changes were found to be indicative of a significantly reduced stress response and initiated activity in telomere maintenance genes, meaning the practices caused changes in the body that led to the repair and alteration of DNA.

“The physical expression is the consequence of the mind’s program—the program comes first, the physical expression second,” renowned stem cell biologist and epigenetics researcher Bruce Lipton is quoted as saying.

“The cells of your body are merely following instructions given by the nervous system, by the brain. The nervous system does the interpretation. As your perception changes, you change the message that your nervous system communicates to the cells of your body.”

“In the science of epigenetics it’s been found that it’s the perception of your environment that controls your genes. You’re not a victim of your genes because you’re the one who can change your environment—or, more importantly, change your perception.”

Bruce’s student Dina Proctor had been practicing mindfulness and meditation for some time, all the while developing a keen interest in epigenetics. Eventually, she decided to perform an informal experiment on herself using a specific visualization meditation she developed based on her research into the field epigenetics and self-healing. Her goal was to address serious imbalances in her blood cholesterol levels that had been plaguing her for some time. For approximately two weeks she regularly practiced the following visualization meditation:

“I started out visualizing a gentle but laser-like beam of healing energy entering my body straight into my heart. I imagined a warm sensation as the beam infiltrated and surrounded my heart. As the warmth grew stronger, I pictured the healing energy in the form of a thick liquid or serum, like warm honey, slowly seeping from my heart muscle into my bloodstream.”

“I kept my focus on the warm feeling of the serum moving into my bloodstream in all directions. I followed it in my mind’s eye, moving through my chest into my legs and arms, fingers and toes, and circling back again into my heart.”

After a few of days she could intuitively sense her blood levels evening out: “I visualized the imaginary serum healing each blood cell it touched as it traveled throughout my body,” she later commented.

And sure enough, the results of her bloodwork post-visualization meditation practice showed a significant positive change: her serum cholesterol count had been reduced from 227 to 177, quite in line with similar findings from the Benson-Henry Institute for Mind/Body Medicine study showing that relatively simple alterations in our habits, perception and thought process do have physical effects in the body.

Skye Ranier,


Related reading on biology and the mind:

  1. The Buddha brain
  2. Vagal tone and prayer
  3. The amygdala
  4. Fasting
  5. Materialism and mirror neurons
  6. The Science of Religion


Posted in Biology, Bruce Lipton, Epigenetics, Epigenetics, Iain Carstairs, Immune System, Meditation, Michael Shermer | Tagged , , , , | 2 Comments

Some News from the Sharp End

I received today a much awaited blood test measuring my levels of Acetyl-N-Alpha galactosaminidase, or Nagalase for short.  This is an important marker for cancer patients because Nagalase is produced by cancer cells to disable the macrophage assembly line, meaning cancer can rise as the immune system falls.

The addition of GcMAF – a macrophage activation factor already present in the human body – via nebulising or subdermal injections tends to overcome this, and boost the rate of macrophage assembly; the macrophages in turn find and digest tumour cells, leading to a more favourable balance.  The macrophages will even take debris from the tumour cell and present it to elements of the immune system as dangers to be on the alert for, causing other macrophages to be put on high alert. Levels of Nagalase fall as an indication of success.  But you can’t own the design for GcMAF – Nature holds that patent.  All you can do is manufacture it efficiently.  Remember this for now!

The immune is an incredibly complicated system, with built-in intelligence on many levels, able to recognise billions of different threats by the time we’re in middle age.  Imagine a security team able to identify every person on Earth and you’ll appreciate how complex this really is – especially since these cells are always being replenished, carrying the same accumulated store of learning from birth.

Hyperdermic needleLevels of Nagalase should be pretty low – around 0.5 nanoMol/ml, but in cancer patients they’re generally always elevated.  Mine was 3.8 on the 2nd of February, and must have been much higher before I began GcMAF, but it had gone down to 3.4 by the third week in March.  The level reported today, from a sample 2 weeks ago, was 2.24, a highly significant drop.  In fact charting it revealed an almost straight line, dropping 10% of its existing value every 6 weeks – a little like a new car – and that’s pretty impressive too.

Other levels looked promising: gc-globulin, a big multi-purpose piece of molecular machinery (55,000 daltons) was double what it should be, indicating this was busy fulfilling its role clearing up actin filaments – long pieces of which are scattered to the winds when a cell dies.  Survival of trauma patients is reflected in the liver’s production of gc-globulin because among other things (including a role in the macrophage assembly) it’s a clean-up artist with a big role in healing.  Low levels mean the body’s resources are being overwhelmed.


Gc globulin shown larger than actual size

Large amounts of gc-globulin are found in fluids crucial to humanity: breast milk, seminal fluid and cerebro spinal fluid among them.  This is intriguing because the caduceus, the ages-old symbol adopted by the medical profession has been equated to the symbol for the regenerative and mind-altering power contained within the human system: an inverted triangle being the base of the spine, from which two intertwined serpents representing ida and pingala, twin nerves running up to the brain, coil around the central axis of the spinal cord.  At the very top is a pair of wings, representing the wings of Mercury – linking mankind to the Gods.  This is one of the most fabulous visual metaphors ever created, and shows the ancient world knew more about the big picture of our own biology than we do, and realised how to encode and preserve this knowledge for those who came after.

The sad fact is that in 2,000 years none of the computers or books we surround ourselves with now will survive.  Unless we leave memorable concepts behind us in a form which survives the centuries, our highly ordered “modern world” will only leave behind a puzzlingly empty black hole – a new dark age.  That might seem entirely fitting for a war-torn age worshipping self-satisfaction and material wealth, but a new awareness is most definitely dawning across the human race, and luckily for us the final chapter has not yet been written.


A puzzling legacy!

The biological mechanism to effect the union between man and the universe was given the name kundalini: a coiled-up store of energy residing at the base of the spine, working in a subtle way through the entire race as a gradual evolutionary energy, but rising to ever more acute activity in the individual bodies of the intellectual, the creative, and finally the genius.  Above all these is the enlightened luminary – a genius in the spiritual realm; the difference between this extremely rare class of individual and the secular genius is that the latter is aware of ideas arriving in their brain as if from nowhere, whereas the former is aware also of the source of this inspiration, a living intelligence which they referred to in ways befitting their cultural upbringing.  This level of consciousness is the next evolutionary step for mankind, and is as different from our normal consciousness as ours is from the instinct-bound animal mind.

Imagine the bewilderment and even shock for an animal to suddenly gain human consciousness – with its intense self awareness, vastly increased mental horizons, reflective moods, access to a vast store of knowledge contributed by other brains via language, romance, appreciation of beauty, and its creative and intellectual leaps, and you can imagine the wonder which luminaries experienced and tried to express when their mind merged with a universal mode of consciousness.  Their efforts to communicate this in ordinary human language, and the magnetism they exerted over ordinary people, formed the genesis and appeal of all the major religions of the world.

This is the evolutionary energy in man – represented by Mercury gesturing towards the stars with one hand, and in the other holding a metaphor for the biological mechanism carrying us in that direction.  In the genius a much more powerful torrent of this energy flows directly into the brain, extracting various subtle elements from the nervous system and the whole body to maintain its vigour.  This is why the genius has to be slightly more careful with their life and body than a normal person needs be, and their amorous life has to be somewhat conserved to maintain a reserve of fuel for the unexpected crises we all face in life.  The recklessness of so many geniuses when carried away by fame and the opportunity for excesses it brings can lead periodically to debilitating, unproductive mental states precisely because their whole body is, occasionally, in a state of depletion, leading sometimes to depressions, or in other cases to the horrors of insanity.

This is why one’s mode of life is stressed in all religious texts – pointless unless there were biological implications, and why genius traditionally has been affiliated with insanity.

Those who succeeded in awakening kundalini, either through genetic gifts of birth, or of lifelong effort, are known to everyone: they are the world’s enduring religious icons: Shankarachariya, Ramakrishna, Guru Nanak, Moses, Buddha, Jesus, Mohammed.  It is not ignorant hysteria but a deep seated recognition within the racial consciousness which preserves their names and the uplifting examples of their lives, for generation after generation.  They will remain venerated, outlasting by a huge margin their critics and detractors, until they are excelled by new illuminati in the ages to come.

Modern writers have got themselves in a twist trying to reconcile these observations with the crude idea of random mutations – one Scientific American article suggested that perhaps insanity had an evolutionary benefit for genius.  Well certainly, just as writers’ cramp is helpful to authors and broken legs are a boon to skiers!  Today’s email from Scientific American cheerfully “debunks” the idea that creativity is a gift – apparently if you buy their ebook you can release your creativity and be as productive as the worlds’ geniuses ever were.  Though if it’s written by Michael Shermer, I wouldn’t hold your breath.

science of creativity

Science writers try their hand at creativity. In other news: politicians begin charitable work, and heavyweight boxers perform Swan Lake

This evolutionary energy emerges from a highly intelligent source – the ingenuity of biology is only one example of its handiwork – and safeguards are built into the human brain to prevent tainted elements from entering and causing damage.  In that event, there is sometimes an effort by the body to expel the subtle essence, if tainted, via a highly increased and irresistable libido.  It is this mechanism behind the genius’ periodic but intense desires, alternating with a complete lack of interest, or even repugnance – during which time the energy is flowing completely to the brain.  In healing, too, it is understood that the desire for congress is absent.  Why should this be, unless the underlying mechanism has somehow had to reverse itself?

There are born geniuses who have no interest whatever in romance – who even feel revulsion at the very idea: one example was Leonardo da Vinci, who in his detatchment once mused that without highly attractive women the race should die out altogether, so repugnant the sexual act seemed to him.  We all know that the brain sends us signals like annoyance, for example, during situations draining its resources in times of need, like endless chatter or loud radio noise while trying to park a car.  The need to “multi task” in modern offices causes chaos in the brain, and a feeling of great discomfort and even anger arise at new unwelcome distractions.  The aim is for us to consciously remove the irritation, or remove ourselves!

This same mechanism is at work when some romantic unions collapse, if one partner is on a different evolutionary curve than the other – once the constant libido poses a danger to the brain’s crucial store of energy, then in an act of self-defence, the brain signals distaste towards the innocent partner who was formerly the apple of the eye and source of all eternal sunshine and joys etc.  The resulting confusion and alienation for which neither partner is consciously responsible, can bring an end to a union based quite typically on mutual attraction.

But in the bigger picture, it is this intelligent energy which the yogi aspires to coax into a higher activity through constant dedication, daily practice of meditation and self control, and by bringing their life somewhat into alignment with universal laws, always able to rise only within the genetic limit of that particular individual.

Fantastic though all this may seem, this energy is also responsible for healing, which (finally!) relates to the subject at hand.


A dapper bronze Mercury, perhaps giving the finger to Big Pharma

Mercury, always pictured holding the caduceus, was man’s link to the healing and uplifting power of the Gods, and kundalini the mechanism which effects this union in the biological world.  In this view our biology is a tightly organised whole, made up not of unreliable, randomly wandering components, but always strictly subject to law and order.  Every religion has symbols for this source of all knowledge, also known as the serpent power, but so little is commonly understood today about kundalini that it may as well be a black art.  Nevertheless some tantalising and otherwise inexplicable facts about the human body do point to the existence of this very mechanism.

For example, in cases of asphysxiation, kundalini is said to sometimes arise spontaneously in a last ditch effort to save the brain, and I suppose this must at least partly release a vital store of the gc-globulin found in fluids associated with reproduction.  The link between deliberate, reckless asphyxiation and arousal is a well known and too awful a topic to bring up here but desperate aspirants in ancient India occasionally resorted to this same method to arouse kundalini – in the hopes of bringing with it all the gifts of mystical experience and the knowledge of the Gods – when all other attempts had failed.

Related to this, it is fascinating to read that serious head injuries in toddlers can give rise to unfortunately early sexual awakening, which is inexplicable unless the two mechanisms of healing and sexuality have the same engine behind them.  All of which indicates the reproductive and emergency healing mechanisms are two sides of the same coin – as you might expect, as both require the rapid formation of new life – but also indicate that when the latter is stimulated by a serious crisis, the former can be awakened too, and once aroused cannot be shut down again.

Veritably a Pandora’s box, to cite another mythical parable, similar in some ways to the Garden of Eden, in which tampering with a God-given mechanism brings unreckoned results never to be undone by human hands.

But that’s enough ancient history, and so back now to our more familiar corporate-organised world!

Even one of the Saatchi brothers couldn't convince this mobster-led government to allow new treatments

Even one of the Saatchi brothers couldn’t convince our mobster-led government to allow new treatments to infringe on Big Pharma’s stranglehold.  I think those are bulletholes

Everyone by now has heard about the spate of deaths in the alternative medicine world over in America.  One nurse told me the common link was apparently GcMAF: all of the individuals who met their deaths at the hands of unknown assailants seemed to have used GcMAF in their practices.  We know Big Pharma can get pretty heavy: you won’t protect any hundred billion dollar business with timidity and deference.  Monsanto is only in the food business but facing stiff opposition from the public they went and bought Blackwater, a band of merciless cut-throats better known for carting heavy artillery around in Iraq and using it on civilians when caught in traffic.  A mercenary bunch, and no mistake, but required for a food business..?  Sure, because it’s money that’s being protected, and that requires muscle and black ops every bit as much as Fort Knox, Kellog Brown and Root, Halliburton, Dick Cheney’s 9/11 ops or the Pentagon and Capitol Hill.  It’s only about the money.

Well, an ex-Merck employee in Santa Barbara spoke out recently against their own black ops department whose job was apparently to put the frighteners on doctors protesting Merck’s dodgy vaccines, Vioxx fraud (100,000 Americans lost their lives because Vioxx “studies” were gleefully pasted together by the PR department and signed off by bent scientists) and so on.  An appalling realisation converted her, Saul like, to an anti-Merck spokeswoman, who then found her house was being broken into on a regular basis.  Expensive alarm systems, video cameras and new locks didn’t change things.  Not for theft, but just to let her know her every move was being watched. After one such break in she hunted for her laptop, hidden safely in the depths of a laundry cupboard, and found with relief it was intact.  Soon after, she returned home to find her CCTV had recorded a man entering the house, disabling the alarm, walking to her laundry cupboard and removing her aptop, laying it neatly no the floor.  And if the message wasn’t already clear, he placed a stone statue of a duck on her patio table.  She queried this with a friend familiar in this trade, who explained.  “Do you feel like a sitting duck?  Because that’s how Merck sees you.”

This was all reported over at Mike Adams’ NaturalNews.Com in detail.


Well done to Merck for the brilliant idea of teaching the immune system to recognise cancer. Imagine that!

When I first heard about GcMAF last November something told me I should get there quick – so I did, going to Lausanne in the first week of December and gaining much from my experience.  Well, here is something you might not know: the MHRA arm of the government, like the enforcers for the mob, shut First Immune‘s Guernsey GcMAF operation down in February, blandly citing a “manufacturing irregularity.”  But whereas with any normal irregularity, you’d expect advice or a warning and another knock on the door in two weeks, here things took a very sinister turn indeed.  Remember too that even with a colossal pile of victims, nobody at Merck was punished for their fraudulent Vioxx PR, or for hiding evidence linking Merck vaccines to autism, or for that matter, for the appalling savagery of chemo therapy which ruins lives permanently – regardless of the fact that cancer cells laugh at it.

Director David Noakes‘ accounts were frozen, as were his credit cards.  Banks were instructed not to deal with him or his firm.  His house was raided, as was his ex-wife’s, and – get this – that of his elderly parents.  The stormtroopers apparently asked if the elderly couple knew why they were there, and were taken aback to hear: “of course, you’re here to make sure a cure for cancer is never found.”  The clinic I attented in Lausanne was raided by a group of agents who one nurse told me resembled the Gestapo in their manner: the same staff who had dealt so carefully with us were held for ten hours and quizzed “as if we were terrorists”.  One was so shaken by the ordeal it was thought she wouldn’t work again.  And to top it all off £100,000 worth of GcMAF stock was stolen.

I’ve taken GcMAF on and off for months and never had a problem.  Other patients I know have had the same experience.  It is, after all, a natural product of the human body, and First Immune’s manufacturing process has Yamamoto behind it, a highly published professor who is the world authority on GcMAF and its actions.

So I smelled a rat, and filed a FOI request.  From the information then supplied I found that a chap on the MHRA board is an ex-director of Merck.  Anyone who’s been a director of a company that big will have a life inextricably linked with it.  Imagining they can be impartial when their kids probably have summer jobs there and their friends at the golf club and health spa are fellow directors, and assuming they would have no shares or ties to protect is imbecilic, given that they’re now in a position to protect the patents and livelihood of the company which gave them their cushy life. And what right does a chemical manufacturer have to affect treatments available to us, the public?  The whole thing is a farce, but the way companies stay around is by melting into the government, and the way politicians grease their skids after being sacked for theft or incompetence or sexual scanadlas or pedophilia or drug taking is to go work for companies and ply their old boy network contacts.  Just ask Tony Blair.  Don’t be appalled – this is how it’s done.

Venn of Pharma and Gov

And you’ll never guess what happened next!

In March I saw that Merck with great fanfare revealed to a waiting world their new patented chemical immune stimulant called Pembrolizumab for the cancer market, at a mere £110,000 per year per patient.  Don’t worry, folks – the insurance and the NHS will pay for it, and so what if the country is bankrupted by it?  Surely it won’t affect you!

By comparison, enough GcMAF for the same period would cost at most £18,000.  The Daily Mail headlines obligingly blared out Merck’s news as if Merck had single handedly invented the immune system and then trained it to hunt down cancer cells.  That’s a simply marvellous feat.  Although they didn’t use these exact words, they called it the biggest revolution since completely useless chemotherapy – which actually destroys the very same immune system Merck now says is oh so crucial to your recovery.  Yet somehow for seventy years the AMA and the ACS have been telling everyone that immune therapy is quackery, blackballing and banning researchers and doctors who disagree, and that only toxic chemo and deadly life-sapping radiation can cure cancer.

Never mind chanting for the separation between church and state – such are the friendships between corporations and state that it’s actually written into law that you can’t say you can cure cancer without any of this crap.  And now these same charlatans, quacks, PR hacks and witch doctors are pushing an immune stimulant instead, protected by mindless shills like quackwatch, metabunk and Scientific American’s own casanova Michael Shermer.  Imagine that, if you can!

Since then an oncologist with 20 years’ experience who gave up on the devastation produced by that miserable lot and is now in the alternative field, tells me some trials of these chemical immune stimulants have been so awful for patients that some actually walked out.  A desperate cancer patient, walking out of a life-saving trial in disgust?  That’s absolutely unheard of.

But there’s money to be made, and making money is all about mathematics.  Now, I don’t know about you, but when I put two and two together, I always get four!

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