Soon We Will All Be AIDS Patients

March 20, 2010

Nationalized Health Care – mandatory and without option of refusal – sits on our doorstep. It knocks, and for our sake, the President and lady speaker have saved us from answering the door. It will enter, with or without our consent. How will you benefit from socialized medicine?

by Liam Scheff
March 20, 2010

The world has already experimented with socialized medicine in Canada, North Korea, Europe and Massachusetts, and the results are always the same: The quality of care is diminished and costs go up. But onward we go.

Soon every national medical emergency will be a personal emergency. Every government-produced mass vaccination plan will be pushed on you by your family’s government-approved physician. You’ll be getting the most up-to-date paranoia, right there in your doctor’s office, and you will be legally mandated to comply with her or his advice. Because it’s a matter of law. Because it’s science. And government science is never wrong.

In fact, you may discover that you now have a variety of diseases that you’d never been aware of. For example, Americans who have not yet taken the time to understand the criminal syndicate called the AIDS industry, are about to meet it face to face.

At present, it is only gay men and poor women who give birth in public hospitals who must turn over the intimate details of their sex lives and personal relationships to the state. But no longer. You are now an AIDS patient.

“But I’m not sick! I don’t have AIDS! I’m not HIV positive, and I never will be!” Practice saying it. It will help the officials diagnose you with “HIV dementia.” Soon, you will have AIDS, or SARS, or Bird Flu, or Swine Flu, or Screaming Monkey Virus – or whatever pandemic the WHO and CDC cook up to roil the American public and world markets into a panic so contagious, it will be solvable only by a massive influx of tax-payer-research-cash injected directly into experimental-but-mandatory-vaccines that will only cripple or kill a small-but-acceptable number of lucky recipients who are under the care of the ‘best medical system in the world.’

Too cynical for you? “But what about the great successes of modern times?” You ask. “The vaccine programs; cancer chemotherapy; early screening for prostate and breast abnormalities; AIDS medicines which have prolonged the lives of thousands – tens of thousands.” All great successes. If success is measured by causing more people to become patients, and undergo serious, severe and often life-threatening medical procedures ahead of a need for them, (if such a need was ever going to arise at all). For an example I could list the victims of any recent or historical national vaccine effort.

Start with the HPV vaccine, an untested intramuscular injection given to preteen girls to prevent them from developing a rare cancer “linked to” a virus. The vaccine does not prevent them from contracting the virus, but that doesn’t really matter, because the extremely common, typically latent virus doesn’t cause cancer. Sure, some of the vaccine recipients died, and others suffered debilitating injuries, but that was in the name of government medical science. And science is never wrong.

Or the recipients of experimental AIDS vaccines, who, as a result of being injected with a slurry that was to prevent them from “contracting HIV,” became “HIV positive.”

Or the recipients of vaccines against Bird Flu, Swine Flu, or any other recent pandemic strain that swept the world’s imagination, who then developed “flu-like symptoms,” or worse. But, in the end, it was worth it, because there was no pandemic. You see? Science is never wrong. Especially the science of medicine.

It may interest skeptical readers to know that the greatest success of contemporary immunological interference, the Polio Vaccine, was pushed through despite constant failure; the vaccine produced paralysis and illness in thousands of recipients, all for a disease that did not seem to be communicable, whose numbers were relatively low, and isolated to a particular population. Polio (or acute flaccid paralysis) affected most often the children of wealthy families (it was called “the middle-class plague”). It did not seem to pass between siblings, and certainly not to or among older family members. It tended to avoid the poor, who while suffering their own miseries, in readily-transmitted fevers and poverty-induced-malnutrition, did not however develop that strange and terrifying muscle-and-nerve wasting disease. The CDC said they were immune because they were “exposed to dirt.” And no other children were? What kind of pandemic was this?

The theory of an invisible traveler, a virus, was not the first explanation for Polio. It was long considered an illness induced by exposure to heavy metals and toxic gases. But in the era of the electron microscope, the theory of a tiny single cause gained funding. A candidate was sought. An enterovirus – a little bug that lives in our intestines – was chosen. It was taken out of slurries of material from the dead, and fed to monkeys, who did not, however, develop polio. It was injected into their muscles and blood, and still they did not develop polio. Finally, scientists desperate to prove the mettle of their measure, injected mixtures of feces and tissue slurry directly into the brains of living monkeys and mice. Lo and behold, some of them died. And some were paralyzed. Victory for the viral theory.

It was noted, however, that many humans whose bowels contained that enterovirus never did develop polio. And that many – and soon a majority of persons in the world who developed “polio” (paralysis of one or more limbs), did not seem to have a whiff of that little bug about them. “Non-poliomyelitis acute flaccid paralysis” (non-polio polio) became their designation.

There were competitive theories offered to explain polio, but they required an examination of toxicology and not virology. The children who became paralyzed – children of the wealthy and middle class – were more often exposed to expensive orchard fruit that was coated with neurotoxic pesticides (lead and other arsenates had just come into use). Children in that era were also sprayed in generous portions with aerosolized DDT at public beaches. DDT was soaked into wall-paper that was used in children’s nurseries.

DDT is good at killing mosquitoes. Could it also affect developing neural pathways in small children? Organochlorines and organophosphates, used internationally as pesticides, show up in countries with high rates of “non-polio polio.” Those treated for toxicological poisoning demonstrate strong recovery.

The number of polio cases increased after the vaccination program went into effect nationally. In order to make the best of it, the government scientists did something new – something they are now very good at. They changed the definition of the disease. Now, children who recovered relatively quickly (as had always been the case with some), were no longer counted as “polio victimes.” And new designations for what had been called polio came into sudden use. While “polio” decreased, “aseptic meningitis,” “Coxsackie virus” and “Guillian-BarrĂ© syndrome” increased, and outnumbered previous polio cases, though they were the same illness.

Why did some children develop degenerative nerve and muscle damage and some not? The answer seems, at best, to be complex. Multi-factorial. And yet, “Polio,” used as a capital-letter single-word descriptor, is credited as the progenitor of all vaccine experiments done on a unread, generally uninterested, but easily roused and frightened public.

But then again, science is never wrong, especially medical science. And most especially, government-run medical science.

Take the case of one Sandi L., a woman I knew, and called a friend from 2004 on. (I will withhold her full identity to protect her children from recrimination. Her story should make this omission understandable).

Sandi, a 44 year-old mother of two young children (one pre-school and one pre-teen) in Southern California, was married to a man her junior by about a decade. Sandi had been told by her doctor at some point in the very early ’90s to take an HIV test as a matter of social responsibility. She did so and was thus informed that she was “HIV positive.” How could it have happened? She wasn’t promiscuous, she wasn’t a prostitute; it must have happened sometime in the mid-80s. Who could tell for sure?

Not being sick, and not wanting to start AZT, a “life-saving,” (said the advertisers) but nevertheless fatality-inducing “AIDS drug,” she decided to do nothing, except to take especially good care of herself. Her doctor agreed: ‘Take good care of diet, nutrition and health, and you may do better than these young men rushing into high-dose AZT, who are dying very quickly on this drug, and by the tens of thousands. We know so little about all of it, you’ll probably be better off going slowly and making decisions as they seem necessary.’ This is what she was told, and this is how she proceeded.

She met a man, told him all about it, got married, and had two children. She was a small woman – not much above 5 feet tall, and light, thin and wiry. She was funny, sweet, quite charming, and immensely trusting. When I met her, she was healthy and spry, and terribly interested in the controversy over HIV tests and the AIDS diagnosis.

She had discovered the hidden secret – the great open secret of medical science. Tests don’t work. They don’t test for what they’re advertised to show. To be fair, some tests are alright, some are pretty good. And some are criminally false.

Where do HIV tests fall? She had good reason to wonder. The medical literature pulls no punches. HIV tests have no standards. They do not diagnose infection with any particular virus. They react with proteins and genetic material produced by an innumerable and ever-growing list of medical conditions: Colds, flus, serious illness, endemic tropical diseases, drug and alcohol use, previous vaccination, and pregnancy. (Yes, pregnancy makes HIV tests “positive.”) So, how good are AIDS numbers?

They’re as good as HIV tests. They are HIV tests mathematically modeled into science fiction. Take a small group of pregnant women in any rural African clinic, and multiply your “positives” by a factor of a thousand. Not enough? Try ten thousand. Need more funding? 4,000 tests of young expecting mothers worried about syphilis can be multiplied into 5 million “HIV positives” with the flip of an algorithm at the World Health Organization’s Geneva headquarters, where these important figures are calculated.

Sandi thought this was fantastic, amazing, important; she told her young husband all about it. How else could she explain her situation? Twenty years of being “positive,” no drugs, and no wasting, degenerative illness. What were the odds?

Her husband listened carefully. His wife didn’t believe in AIDS theory. She was an “AIDS denialist.” It was just the information he needed. He shared it with a friend of his – a younger woman he was carrying on a serious affair with, who he intended to leave his older wife for. It was a perfect out. Sure, he had married her knowing her “HIV” status – whatever it meant, whatever that test had actually indicated. He had two children with her. The older child, a pre-teen girl, was strong and healthy. The younger, a boy about 7, had chronic allergies and some digestive issues. The husband didn’t seem to worry about his own health, though. But when he wanted to leave Sandi, “HIV” was good enough.

And so he did. He filed for divorce, and made Sandi’s “HIV denialism” the center of a four-year battle to keep her away from her two young children. Though she had given birth to them, and been a devoted housewife and mother, and never had a complaint made against her as to the quality of her maternal care or instinct, the husband decreed that she was a danger to herself and others. After all, she didn’t “believe HIV tests.”

The court agreed. Pretty soon, she had to pay in order to see her children. A court-approved supervisor would watch her watch them, for the few hours a week she was permitted. She had to hire and then train attorneys to think critically about HIV testing. None could. The husband wanted to put one of the children on AIDS drugs. Sandi wanted to use dietary change, vitamins and other natural therapies. She allowed doses of pharmaceuticals to be used, but pushed for a more thorough examination of what looked like digestive problems and allergies, not like clinical, textbook “AIDS.”

And what is clinical, textbook AIDS, anyway? It’s a great question. The answer is – it’s anything the medical authorities want it to be. Eventually, Sandi would discover that too.

I began to lose touch with Sandi in mid-2008. She was sounding more and more distraught. She would talk for hours about what “they were doing to her.” I begged her to keep her distance from that fight. “But I’m their mother,” she said, as though such a statement mattered to government medical science. I beseeched her to not fight every slight and injury they paid her. To see her kids when she could. To strengthen her resolve to be there at the end, to get through the next five, or even ten years until the children were old enough to see her on their own. To support them from a distance, to make the time with them count. To pay her husband back with goodness where he was spiteful and petty. To trust in time, rather than justice.

Easy words to say. But she was their mother. She was torn apart by all of it. The doctor put in charge of her child’s case, an AIDS doctor in San Diego, whose name I will also reserve from exposure here, took an immense interest in Sandi.

He was certain that her distrust in the AIDS industry was a sign of her illness. An illness that had not manifested in some 20 years of HIV positivity, but an illness nonetheless. After all, medical science is never wrong.

He pressed her in endless private conferences with his petty bourgeois ‘diagnosis.’ Eventually, it seems he won. he convinced her that she was, perhaps, wrong. That perhaps she really did have a touch of…something. “HIV dementia,” said the professionals. She didn’t believe in her diagnosis. Therefore she was sick.

Sandi disappeared from my radar. Six months later, I received a note that she had gone on psychoactive drugs, as a means to get the doctor to give her time with her children. That soon she was pliable. Soon she was weak, soon she was falling all the way apart. That when the medical scientists next suggested her “HIV dementia” should be combated with stronger AIDS drugs, like AZT and its analogs, she relented. The note also informed me that she was dead.

She was small, light. Not a lot for a steady stream of “life-saving” fatality-inducing FDA Black-Box labeled drugs to work through. I’m still trying to get the details of her final days.

Sandi was a recipient of socialized medicine. Medicine for the common good. Government-run health care. Her family, her immune-system, her health, her state of mind, her children, her wishes, her thoughts, her future, were looked after by the State. She did the right thing, according to them. After all, government-run medical science is never wrong. Especially when it is.

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