Thursday, September 16, 2021

All The Best Limericks Are Lewd (revisited)

Abraham was a wily old Jew
Who kept company with the Chosen Few
By forswearing sin
And his own foreskin
He proceeded the whole world to screw

It was a limerick that got me my first job as a junior copywriter. I had just turned 20 and was living with my parents in the house where I was born. I knew it was time to leave the family nest and learn to stand on my own feet - so when a friend mentioned that an ad agency in KL was looking for new blood, I immediately wrote to them. A few days later I received a test in the mail and was asked to compose a limerick; then write a news report about it, followed by an editorial. This was the limerick I came up with (of course I had to keep it clean):

A grand gourmand named Gus
Decided to devour a bus
But as he began to chew
He said, "Oh no, this won't do,
The passengers are making a fuss!"

Needless to say I got the job and soon found myself turning into a professional wordsmith, churning out readable text by the column inch. It didn't take long for me to realize I wasn't cut out to be a hack. Within 18 months I quit, after winning $5,000 in a slogan writing competition for Hall's cough drops, and began a checkered career as a freelancer and creative consultant. I continued to compose the occasional limerick - but somehow they were never quite lewd enough...

A fair mädchen was having her lüncheon
In a very chic cafe in München
Well, I got bold and told her
I wanted to rock'n'roll her
"Ja ja," she said and we got engaged pretty sünchen

As clean limericks go, this one ranks as an all-time winner (unfortunately I didn't write it and I don't know who did): 

A wonderful bird is the pelican;
His beak can hold more than his belican.
He can hold in his beak
Enough food for a week,
Though I’m damned if I know how the helican!

But enough of clean limericks! Bring on the best and lewdest ones I have collected over the years. I must mention here that some of the dirtiest limericks ever written came from Isaac Asimov, acclaimed writer of sciencefiction novels. Here are a couple I like:

Said an ovum one night to a sperm,
"You're a very attractive young germ.
Come join me, my sweet,
Let our nuclei meet
And in nine months we'll both come to term."


"We refuse," said two men from Australia,
"Bestiality this saturnalia.
For now, we bethink us,
The ornithorhynchus
Is our down-under type of Mammalia."

And I have a gut feeling we owe this classic to Asimov:

The astronomer's crime was heinous:
"We mustn't let convention restrain us;
Though I've made a career
Out of Venus, my dear,
I'm tempted to switch to Uranus."

Let's open the floodgates of debauchery and prurience, shall we? But first, a limerick defining what limericks are really about...

The Limerick's furtive and mean, 
To be kept under close quarantine, 
Or she'll sneak to the slums, 
Where she promptly becomes 
Disorderly, drunk and obscene!

It's almost impossible to trace limericks back to their source. The memorable ones tend to get circulated and recirculated over time till they end up attributed to Anonymous (presumably an obscure Greek lyricist). Here's the rest of my collection to date:

There once was a girl from Ealing,
Who said she had no sexual feeling.
Until a cynic named Boris,
Touched her clitoris,
And they’re still scraping her off the ceiling.


There was a young fellow from Kent,
Whose prick was so long that it bent,
To save himself trouble,
He put it in double,
And instead of coming he went.


A lesbian girl from Khartoum
Took a gay young man up to her room. 
At the start of the night 
She said "Let's get this right. 
Who does what? And with which? And to whom?"


There was an old bishop from Buckingham 
Who spoke of young girls and of fucking 'em 
But a bishop from Wales 
Took the wind from his sails 
When he spoke of young boys and of sucking 'em

From the crypt of the Church of St. Giles 
Came a scream that carried for miles 
Said the Vicar, "Good Gracious, 
Has Brother Ignatius 
Forgotten the Bishop has piles?"


There once was a man from Peru 
Who fell asleep in his canoe 
As he dreamt of Venus 
he played with his penis 
And woke up with a handful of goo.


There was a young woman from Yale 
Who offered her body for sale 
For the sake of the blind 
She had her behind 
Tattooed with her prices in Braille


There was a young fellow from Leeds,
Who swallowed a package of seeds.
Great tufts of grass,
Sprouted out of his ass,
And his balls were all covered with weeds.


There was a young man from Lynn,
Whose prick was the size of a pin.
Said his girl with a laugh,
As she fondled his staff,
“This won’t be much of a sin.”


There was a young lady from Maine,
Who enjoyed copulating on a train.
Not once, I maintain,
But again and again,
And again and again and again.


There was a young actress from Crewe, 
Who remarked as the vicar withdrew, 
The Bishop was quicker 
and thicker and slicker, 
And two inches longer than you.


There was a young plumber from Lee 
who was plumbing his girl with great glee, 
she said,  "Stop your plumbing, 
I think someone's coming..." 
Said the plumber, still plumbing, "It's me!"


A kinky young girl from Coleshill, 
Tried a dynamite stick for a thrill, 
They found her vagina 
in North Carolina, 
and bits of her tits in Brazil.


There was a young man from Pitlocherie, 
making love to his girl in the rockery, 
she said, "Look you've cum 
all over my bum, 
This isn't a shag, it's a mockery."


There was a young lassie from Morton, 
who had one long tit and one short'un, 
on top of all that 
a great hairy twat, 
and a fart like a six fifty Norton.


There was a young man from Harrow 
who had one as big as a marrow. 
He said to his tart, 
"Try this for a start. 
My balls are outside on a barrow."


There was a young girl from Hitchin, 
who was scratching her crotch in the kitchen. 
Her mother said "Rose, 
It's crabs, I suppose." 
She said "Bollocks, get on with your stitchin'."


There was a young girl from Devizes, 
who had tits of different sizes. 
One was quite small, 
almost nothing at all, 
But the other was big and won prizes.


There once was a young man from Brighton,
Who said to a young lass, “You’re a tight’un!”
She said, “Listen, Hon,
You’re in the wrong one.
There’s plenty of room in the right one.”


A lady while dining at Crewe,
Found an elephant’s dong in her stew,
Said the waiter, “Don’t shout,
Or wave it about,
Or the others will all want one too!”


There was a young woman of Croft,
Who played with herself in a loft,
Having reasoned that candles,
Could never cause scandals,
Besides which they did not go soft.


There was a young woman named Sally, 
who loved an occasional dally, 
she sat on the lap
of a well endowed chap, 
Crying, "Gee, Dick, you're right up my alley!"


There was a young gaucho named Bruno 
Who said "If there is one thing I do know, 
A woman is fine, 
a donkey divine, 
But the llama is numero uno."


There once was a man from Nantucket
Whose schlong was so long he could sucket
He said with a grin
Wiping spunk off his chin
"If my ear were a cunt I could fucket!"

Nantucket seems to have inspired more than its fair share of limericks, not all of them lewd - but they do merit a passing mention, if only for their literary value:

There once was a man from Nantucket
Who kept all his cash in a bucket.
But his daughter, named Nan,
Ran away with a man
And as for the bucket, Nantucket.

This soon spawned a sequel...

But he followed the pair to Pawtucket,
The man and the girl with the bucket;
And he said to the man,
He was welcome to Nan,
But as for the bucket, Pawtucket.

What better way to end this post than with a mathematical limerick composed by Leigh Mercer (1893-1977) who came up with this poetic equation:

Translated into plain English it reads:

A dozen, a gross, and a score
Plus three times the square root of four
Divided by seven
Plus five times eleven
Is nine squared and not a bit more.

[First posted 26 April 2017, reposted 18 September 2018, 31 March 2019 & 25 August 2019]

Monday, July 19, 2021

Meltdown at Madame Tussaud’s (reprise)

For generations we have pissed on people with impunity.

Our power was brokered with brute force – it was literally “Off with his head!” whenever anyone dared to openly disagree with or criticize the order of things.

Our authority - more correctly spelt “awe-thority” - issued from our ability to shock and awe the illiterate masses with displays of superior physical and psychic firepower. As Barry Long postulates in his seminal work, The Origins of Man and the Universe (The Myth That Came To Life): the earliest gods consisted of an elite cabal of magicians and sorcerers who activated their third eyes ahead of the pack, learned the use of psychic force by utilizing their brains as holographic projectors, and thus were able to control the collective unconscious of their subjects through mediumistic shamanism and the inculcation of tribal totems and taboos.

We established the first monarchic dynasties and schooled our heirs in the divine right of kings. Our people were implanted with genetically hardwired control mechanisms that took the form of ignorant superstition masquerading as religious faith.

To question the moral behavior of the gods was labeled blasphemy; any word spoken against a king or queen was labeled sedition. Complaints against high-ranking priests, courtiers and ministers were considered defamation.

We outlawed mystical experience and replaced it with solemn ceremony and pompous ritual. Inspired insights and revelations were systematically reduced to dogma and doctrine; turned into an academic priesthood to jealously police the orthodoxy of the status quo.

Over the millennia, we created what young people today recognize as The Matrix – an ingenious machine to harvest the vitality of all living things, generation after generation, to support in grand style the privileges and insatiable appetites of a well-connected white-collar criminal upper class.

But it’s all breaking down now from the sheer weight of its own accumulation of misdeeds and miscreations. The long-enslaved masses have begun to awaken from their cultural trance. They realize that the punitive deity installed in their operating systems to rule them through fear is no more than a scarecrow, a being of straw, literally a stuffed shirt.

All the gods have feet of clay and will never dismount from their pedestals. The institutions created to uphold the edifice of business-as-usual are mostly infested with maggots in human guise – time-serving functionaries of the state, who can see no further than the next paycheck and who dream only of the retirement benefits they have been promised in exchange for loyal, unthinking service.

Long disconnected from their own internal moral compasses, the minions who continue to uphold the hierarchy of conformity and mediocrity may – on rare occasions – experience momentary confusion and doubt.

Does the monotheistic, judgmental, punitive, vengeful god to whom some of us pray actually exist? Or is He just a virulent meme implanted in our tribal memories?

And does He (of course it must be a Heavenly Father, for no order-obeying, rank-saluting stormtrooper would deign to take orders from a mere woman) take offense whenever we think an unwholesome thought, or utter an unsavory word? And will our offspring, if left uncircumcised or unbaptized, be forever barred from paradise?

And if we spend the better part of our time in church or at the mosque gossiping about other people’s sex lives – instead of paying heed to the wisdom of our own inner voices – would that ruin our prospects for a happy afterlife?

We have become compulsive liars and hypocrites to avoid punishment. At some level we know the knack of twisting truth is a survival mechanism that has long outlived its purpose. But do we still remember what it means to be honest and candid - regardless of the consequences, real or imagined?

Can we deny the feeling, buried deep within our subconscious memories and long suppressed, that our entire life has been but a meaningless charade, a colorful and noisy parade that camouflages the endless procession of sorrow and subterfuge our existence has been reduced to?

Behind the glossy façade of our public personas are we proud of and at peace with our true selves? How long can we fool ourselves with our own hype – even if it’s the most expensive grade of hype, paid for by hapless citizens?

Like everybody else with a broadband connection (that actually works) I have been monitoring - with fascination, disgust, horror and far-too-frequent outbursts of outrage - the social and political metamorphosis we are undergoing as a young nation with an ethnically heterogeneous population of 27 million.

The aftershocks of the electoral earthquake and psychological tsunami that occurred on 8 March 2008 continue to be felt on all levels.

Fear grips the cold hearts and poisoned psyches of the power elite - while hope flaps its fragile wings as it attempts its first tentative flight within the souls of all who truly love this land.

We have seen all the evidence we need that the pouting, pink-lipped overaged brat who (in April 2009) seized the post of prime minister is, in fact, more accurately described as a crime minister. The catalog of his misdeeds is legend, as only to be expected of somebody born into a political dynasty with blood on its hands and groomed from young for power.

His second wife, who could well be niece to the murderous witch Mona Fandey, has attracted massive scorn and ridicule - but carefully shields herself from the anger and resentment of the masses by engaging a retinue of professional fawners and sycophants to administer to her overweening vanity.

Constantly plotting intrigue behind their opulent backs is a gigantic can of writhing worms that represents a political party (now parties) created expressly by a megalomaniacal former leader to enrich his family and supporters through colossal infrastructure expenditure and secret contracts. A political party with no tangible philosophy, no remaining ideals, no sense of evolutionary inevitability.

All it can boast is a reptilian kill-or-be-killed survival program that manifests through diverse forms of thuggery, uniformed or plainclothes, disguised as various law enforcement agencies and fake NGOs.

And yet there are courageous individuals in our midst who battle valiantly on for the restoration of justice, freedom and accountability in government. They do so at the costly sacrifice of their own personal careers and at great risk to their own lives. Some are forced to endure neverending litigation; others risk incarceration, exile, and even assassination (though we are fortunately a nation that has never as yet resorted to “termination with extreme prejudice”... or have we?).

Those of us who admire and applaud these magnificent individuals for fighting the good fight on our behalf must bear in mind that we cannot achieve salvation and redemption by proxy (forget what religious orthodoxy says about Jesus dying for your sins, that’s utter crap!) Each of us has to gain entry to the promised land through our own hard-won integrity and impeccability as spiritual warriors and agents of illumination. If you can’t learn to ride a horse vicariously, what makes you think you can qualify for heaven on earth through other people’s virtue?

In effect, we really have no option but to consciously embody all the ideals and values we desire to see prevail in the world around us.

If you object to secrecy in government, then divest your own life of dark and dire secrets and do whatever you do openly, without fear and without apology. If your behavior impinges negatively on others, you will immediately be alerted to their distress. In which case, the mature response is to adjust your behavior so that it no longer poses problems for others. If you feel a stinky fart coming, just walk a few steps downwind of the crowd.

If you cherish freedom of expression and the free flow of information, then allow others to express their own thoughts and feelings without getting offended and retaliating violently. Even if they insult your pet beliefs and laugh at your fashion sense, learn to shrug, grin and walk away without making a major issue of it.

If you wish to be recognized and appreciated for your contributions, begin to freely give those around you generous amounts of positive feedback (when they deserve it, of course, for we do not condone hypocrisy in the New Dawn).

And if you truly value your glorious evolutionary destiny as conscious, volitional, sensing-thinking-and-feeling beings, then take time out from your daily routine to reassess what you’re doing with your life and what are your authentic goals.

When enough of us acquire the necessary self-discipline to regulate our own public behavior, there will no longer be any requirement for an external police force. Perhaps we will only need to maintain a token force – simply because some folks look so sexy in uniform.

[First posted 19 August 2010, reposted 8 September 2020]

Sunday, July 18, 2021

Circumcision is a bad idea (reprise)

By Sam Sugar

In Europe, outside certain religious communities, it’s hard to find someone who doesn’t think cutting the end off an infant’s dick is a bad idea. In America, as any Euro who’s dated there knows, opinions differ. With a good urologist making $300 a procedure, and doing up to five circumcisions a day (it’s the most commonly performed surgical procedure in America), the reasons foreskin’s slightly less hip in the US than members-only jackets are clear. Most American women who’ve never experienced a natural penis claim to prefer the cut version they’re used to. The dice are loaded.

The British Journal of Urology’s new study (commissioned by NOCIRC), “Fine-touch pressure thresholds in the adult penis” explains:

“The study shows that the foreskin is the most sensitive portion of the penis,” said study coauthor Robert Van Howe, a pediatrician at the Marquette General Health System in Marquette, Michigan. “It’s not like you’re chopping off plain old skin. The analogy would be like removing your lips, because the lips are more sensitive than the skin around them.”


“…the study authors say they’ve achieved something new with their study: a comparative sensory mapping of the male organ.

This new cartography of the penis proffers nineteen zones. Missing from the circumcised male are eight of these penile destinations, four on the dorsal side (the outer prepuce, the orifice rim, the muco-cutaneous junction, the ridged band) and four on the ventral (frenulum near ridged band, frenulum at muco-cutaneous junction, orifice rim, and outer prepuce). Missing from the uncircumcised anatomy are two regions on this new map, and they’re both scars.

In the areas that cut and uncut men have in common, the study showed a sensitivity deficit of between two and thirty-three percent. In those areas peculiar to the intact penis, the deficit is by definition 100 percent. And it’s in those areas, the study concludes, where most of the sensory action is. Perhaps the most salient of the report’s findings is that “the transitional region from the external to the internal prepuce is the most sensitive region of the uncircumcised penis and more sensitive than the most sensitive region of the circumcised penis.”

The porn industry plays a part. Manned by lilliputian intellects, and with Jewish men making up a large portion of all male talent, uncut cocks are seldom seen. The American public’s feeling that uncut means unclean feeds a myth about disease and foreskin which people tend not to question. Even if a cut penis is fractionally easier to clean and therefore slightly less likely to carry harmful bacteria, a vagina’s easier to clean when it’s sewn shut and we don’t generally favor that.

With a generation seeing more strange cock on the web as teens than our parents did in a lifetime, the feeling that ‘US porn cock’ IS cock will spread. With the US advocating circumcision in Africa as an HIV prevention measure (ignoring the fact condoms work better) it’s a good time for people who care about free-will and sexual pleasure to point out starting every boy's life by amputating the most sensitive part of his body lies somewhere between unwise and criminal.

Change comes from the young, the young watch porn, and porn has categorized uncut cock as an exclusively gay fetish. Time for a change?

[Read the informative comment on circumcision left by Mark Lyndon of Doctors Opposing Circumcision (D.O.C.)]

We tightly strapped an infant to a traditional plastic “circumstraint” using Velcro restraints. We also completely immobilized the infant’s head using standard surgical tape. The entire apparatus was then introduced into the MRI chamber. Since no metal objects could be used because of the high magnetic fields, the doctor who performed the surgery used a plastic bell with a sterilized obsidian bade to cut the foreskin. No anesthetic was used.

The baby was kept in the machine for several minutes to generate baseline data of the normal metabolic activity in the brain. This was used to compare to the data gathered during and after the surgery. Analysis of the MRI data indicated that the surgery subjected the infant to significant trauma. The greatest changes occurred in the limbic system concentrating in the amygdala and in the frontal and temporal lobes. A neurologist who saw the results postulated that the data indicated that circumcision affected most intensely the portions of the victim’s brain associated with reasoning, perception and emotions. Follow up tests on the infant one day, one week and one month after the surgery indicated that the child’s brain never returned to its baseline configuration. In other words, the evidence generated by this research indicated that the brain of the circumcised infant was permanently changed by the surgery.

[First posted 26 March 2009, reposted 21 February 2020]

Monday, July 5, 2021

Is there a way out of this labyrinthine nightmare?


In this morning's dream I found myself wandering through a back-alley busy with hawker stalls & as I strolled past a mamak tea-stall, someone called my name. It was my Singapore friend Farah Ong, an actor & drama teacher. As we were catching up, her friends came up to say hello. They were all out-of-work actors, dancers, stage crews, producers, writers, directors, devastated by the abrupt cancellation of a production they had worked really hard on for months before the scamdemic was unleashed upon an unsuspecting world. 

It was heart-wrenching, to say the least, to see the distress of these delightfully charming, talented & exuberant spirits, forced into despondency & despair by a Globalist Agenda none of them had any clue about. Some had invested their life-savings in creating beautiful performance spaces they could call home & then the phantom menace codenamed "Covid" had mercilessly crushed their dreams. Now all they could attempt were virtual performances...

Well, they had been so focused on honing their performance skills, driven by ego ambitions & dreams of fame (if not fortune) & had in the process become so totally entangled in their personal identities (as arty-farty eccentrics, queers, misfits, pundits & pontificators) they had all missed seeing the forest for the trees. Indeed, many had completely forgotten that artists are, in fact, magicians, wizards, visionaries, oracles, shamans & prophets whose primary function is to serve as the Oversoul of the Community, as inspirational guides & wayshowers.

In their eagerness for things to "return to normal" - for the show to go on again, for auditoriums & theaters & borders to reopen, they had succumbed to the lure of dark sorcerers posing as medical experts & health officials & they had signed up for the dangerous & deadly experimental jabs (sincerely believing that in so doing they were actually "saving lives"). 

But in so doing they had cast their vote for the perpetuation of massive deceit through cunning manipulation of collective perceptions, for the manifestation of the Brave New Normal. They had effectively surrendered to Sauronic/Ahrimanic forces hell-bent on confiscating every last vestige of free will & individual sovereignty that is the absolute birthright of every ensouled human & adopted the cynical slogan of The Great Reset - "Build Back Better" (But For Whom)?

And now, no longer capable of acknowledging their own gut feelings, trusting their animal instincts, having opted to "trust the science," they would henceforth reject any unfiltered truth shown to them as being too painful to accept & embrace. Their work as intermediaries between the Seen & Unseen Realms, as community therapists & educators of future generations - once utterly essential to the long-term health & well-being of the species - would henceforth be officially classified "non-essential."

Is there a way out of this labyrinthine nightmare that does not end in our destinies being ruthlessly ripped apart & devoured by the minotaur?

Well, for a start, stop calling me a "conspiracy theorist." The day is upon us when the only source of undistorted truth will be from the ones you now dismiss as tinfoil-hatters, the ones with no vested interest in maintaining a corrupt & perverse status quo, whose incomes & public image do not depend on subscribing to an official narrative.

If you can get beyond your limited ego for a moment & listen carefully to this simple message, it might not be too late to wriggle free of the Archontic snare:

1) Evil can be defined as the compulsion to wield ever increasing power over others. To this end some quarters have invested heavily on ways to hold the world ransom through monstrous weaponry - whether nuclear, weather control or manufactured disease (whoever dropped 2 atomic bombs on Nagasaki & Hiroshima was only interested to observe & document the short- & long-term effects of radiation on humans, it wasn't to end the war; HIV/AIDS was concocted in a biowarfare lab as an ethnospecific virus that got out of control & in the 1980s Anthony Fauci frittered away $15 billion pretending to combat AIDS & since then has reportedly squandered $191 billion on weaponizing viruses; countless billions have been poured into cancer research even as carcinogenic chemicals were sneaked into processed foods). 

In effect, you & I may be incapable of even imagining such evil, but you had better accept that a teeny-weeny minority are & they just happen to control almost all the money in the world. Let's loosely call them the New World Order Cabal. Yes, they control us via religion, academia, news media & entertainment, big tech, big pharma, big agri & they sponsor covert agencies & the military (at least until very recently).

2) The PCR Test used to ascertain whether people are Covid positive or negative is completely bunkum - indeed, an outrageous racket in itself, along with all the Covid paraphernalia (hand sanitizers, masks, gloves, PPE gear, ventilators). Used in conjunction with fake statistics published by complicit & unquestioning media, it has effectively created a phantom menace labelled "Covid-19" (based on a GMO coronavirus deliberately unleashed on us as an excuse for the WHO to declare "a global pandemic" which, in turn, was used to implement harsh quarantines, lockdowns, shutdowns, the mask mandate, etc).

3) The CDC recently announced, very quietly & unapologetically, that in the US, less than 6% of fatalities recorded as Covid-related were actual Covid deaths. The other 94% were, in fact, due to a variety of other causes, many as a direct result of inappropriate hospital procedures, adding to acute fear & psychological trauma.

4) The media has relentlessly promoted anxiety & panic by publishing daily Covid cases (those who tested "positive" with a bogus PCR Test) & listing Covid deaths (even those with severe comorbidities). Not once have they published fatality statistics for other causes of death (accidents, heart attacks, strokes, cancer, etc) nor have they counterbalanced their reportage with the number of births. In effect, reporting only Departures without noting Arrivals creates an oppressive sense of doom & gloom. They have also suppressed statistics, if any, on the alarming increase of mental health problems & suicides, mostly due to financial distress.

5) The moment you realize what is actually happening & cease to subscribe to the orchestrated fear campaign, you will also stop trusting all governmental authority hiding behind medical & pseudoscientific chicanery. When so much money is involved, people can be bought & bribed & intimidated into silence. Globalist agencies like the UN & the WHO have an occult agenda behind their glossy public relations facades. They were set up by oligarchs to implement their megalomaniacal dreams of Total Control over the entire planet. Along with this realization comes the eureka moment when you begin to experience your Core Self as a Conscious Fractal of The Whole, with direct access to the Supreme Being (or Source) & that you are beholden to nobody & nothing - no monarch, no pope, no president, no panjandrum with a long string of titles, not even your childhood notion of God or Allah or Jesus Christ or the entire Hindu or Nordic or Greek Pantheon. Not only that, you will begin to laugh uncontrollably when you remember that you have always existed & shall forever exist as an Immortal & Indestructible Consciousness, free to take on physical embodiment in any form you choose, for however long you like & wherever you wish. 

So it's perfectly fine to take off that stupid mask already & stop complying with utterly absurd SOPs issued by pathological liars & hypocrites or worse! Reclaim your dignity, your sovereignty, your sacred destiny & your perfect freedom... NOW!

P.S. I strongly feel that in the very near future, those who wish to neutralize the ill effects of the toxic jabs they have foolishly taken into their beautiful bodies will be able to do so through a variety of healing modalities that are beginning to become accessible - though at this stage they cost a fair bit, it's true. I refer specifically to vibrational therapies patented variously as Antantra or Healy or Bioscalar Photonic Fusion Quantum Healing Systems (there are so many more I have yet to even hear about) which, to be expected, have faced vigorous opposition from a Medical Inquisition founded entirely on Allopathy & surreptitiously funded by Rockefeller $$$)