Bitter Pills

Some folks like to dump on Western medicine, but unless they live in Geodesic domes and wear caftans, absolutely nobody reaches for the ground-up hibiscus leaf when they're suffering migraines so badly they're considering calling an exorcist. Likewise, when a person is suicidally depressed, munching rose-pedals stuffed into organic goat-testicle isn't going to help. Your last dying breath will smell sweet, however.

I've dated a few women who've been into energy points, and chakras. There's usually only one chakra I want to unblock, and that's a third-date thing. The latest was into Reiki, certified through the internet. Also referred to as palm healing, or, if you like, bunch of shit, it involves practitioners believing they're transferring healing energy in the form of 'ki' through their sweaty hands. I lost my ki once, but I had a replacement made at my local hardware store. Maybe it was an off-night, but I've felt more energy from my microwave.

Pharmaceutical companies aren't benevolent bastions of goodness. They've over-medicated many unfortunate souls, through misdiagnosis and misdirection. Other medications have been shown, too late, to have nasty side-effects. Still, when I'm supposed to recover from something like serious oral surgery, I'm going to request the strongest, fattest painkiller available through my doctor and clandestine internet sites. Keep your Valerian root.