Seriously, though, you know that Amelia Earheart and Elvis are reading them all.
So it’s not like they’re being ignored.
Cartoon by Dave Walker.
Find more cartoons you can freely re-use on your blog at We Blog Cartoons.
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via Archie, from whom I ruthlessly rent this image. Sue me, O Patriarchal One (IF you dare!)!
In fact, pseudomonas aeruginosa is a ubiquitous superbug that will digest and destroy absolutely any vulnerable human tissue, so whatever you do, don’t get a papercut! Or, God forbid, any scratches or abrasions anywhere more intimate than, say, the back of your elbow. For good reason:
Pseudomonas aeruginosa is an opportunistic pathogen, meaning that it exploits some break in the host defenses to initiate an infection. It causes urinary tract infections, respiratory system infections, dermatitis, soft tissue infections, bacteremia, bone and joint infections, gastrointestinal infections and a variety of systemic infections, particularly in patients with severe burns and in cancer and AIDS patients who are immunosuppressed. Pseudomonas aeruginosa infection is a serious problem in patients hospitalized with cancer, cystic fibrosis, and burns. The case fatality rate in these patients is 50 percent.
And in this particular case, it cost a healthy 18-year-old Canadian both of her corneas. From the headline on that article you’d think it was unique to Africa, but in fact according to the CDC it accounts for 10% of hospital-acquired patient infections in the US. It is everywhere, and it is resistant to antibiotics as well. Super: so that’s why they call it a superbug.
The futility of treating Pseudomonas infections with antibiotics is most dramatically illustrated in cystic fibrosis patients, virtually all of whom eventually become infected with a strain that is so resistant that it cannot be treated.
It’s even the bug responsible for that nemesis of swingers everywhere, Hot Tub Rash. That reminds me: Where did I put that chlorine and sandblasting kit?
Note that, contrary to the backpacker’s expectations, doctors in African countries are not expected to be fluent in English, nor does such indicate a level of unprofessionalism. Sigh. I have a much easier time reporting these stories sympathetically when the victims whine only about things they’re entitled to whine about, like losing their eyes to tissue-eating pathogens and not “gee all the foreigners talk funny!”
I mean, it’s horrific enough:
“The guy didn’t even speak English. He looked at my eyes and I didn’t even know what he was saying,” she said.
Pus started secreting from her eyes, making it difficult for her to close and open her eyelids. A small hole became visible in her eyeball.
“The bug eats away so fast,” she said. “I went insane just from the pain.”
…Another day passed and Plouffe awoke blind. She had to wait yet another full day — filled with hysteria and weeping, she said — before she could catch a bus to a nearby community that had a medical clinic…
A member of the Canadian High Commission in Tanzania volunteered to escort her to Vancouver, where Plouffe was admitted to Vancouver General Hospital — five days after her ordeal began.
Two-thirds of her corneas had been eaten away and two weeks ago, doctors nearly removed her right eye — but reconsidered after successful cornea transplants on both eyes. She now has 17 stitches in her right eye and 24 stitches in her left.
Remember what your mother said: DON’T RUB YOUR EYES! Also, don’t go out of the house, and try to avoid touching anything at all while you’re inside. And don’t rub anything…”delicate” for God’s sake. All clear on that children? Good, now go play. Have fun!
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Am I being sensationalistic here? Perhaps a tad.
After all, the destruction of the 60 year old towers at the Chapelcross Nuclear Power Plant in Scotland was scheduled, professionally carried out, non-nuclear in nature, and the towers were out of commission not to mention enriched Uranium- and Plutonium-free.
But they blowed up good. They blowed up real good!
Here’s the BBC slideshow, should the YouTube prove too zippy a perspective for your nuclear tower blowing up pleasure.
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How to drive Scientologists crazy for fun and profit. And that’s AFTER L.Ron and his minions have already warmed them up for you; they’re halfway there already!
“Your problem is that you are easily led.”
I thought about this for a moment. I didn’t actually feel particularly easy to lead, I decided, but perhaps she would have something to tell me I didn’t know.
Having allowed her point to sink in, she continued, “Do you want to be activator or activated?”
This was a bit cryptic, and I quite honestly didn’t get her drift, so I asked her politely to explain exactly what she meant.
“Do you want people to activate you, or do you want to activate them?”
“Well.” I hesitated, considering this rather either-or view of things. “Does one have to go around activating people to avoid being activated by them?”
“Yes.” She was very decisive about this. I had to admit that she had in fact just told me something I had never known before.
“I’m not certain that I agree. As far as I know I activate myself and other people do the same for themselves.”
“It isn’t that simple!” Again she was extremely decisive. This was interesting since it had always seemed that way to me.
“Do I have the right to activate people? Isn’t it their job and their right to activate themselves? You’d be taking a hell of a responsibility if you went around activating people, wouldn’t you?”
“Only for their own good!”
Now she was really beginning to interest me. Her logic was fascinating: To avoid being activated by people, which would be bad for me, I had to activate them, which would be good for them. (Quite apart from the fact that statements like “for their own good” have a tendency to stimulate my anti-authority neurosis and trigger off the little alarm bells.) This was becoming interestinger and interestinger, and I was becoming curiouser and curiouser about exactly who these people were. I was just about to find out.
“Now.” She fixed me with her gaze. “What you need is this book!” She held it up.
I leant forward and examined it. Large, cheerfully coloured letters on the front identified it: DIANETICS, by L. RON HUBBARD…
This continues for some time, escalating entertainingly, after which…
I leant back and waited expectantly.
She blinked, looked at me somewhat blankly, then blinked again. I waited expectantly.
She looked at her desktop and blinked at that. This didn’t look partcularly encouraging, but I waited expectantly.
Her next move was to place her elbows on the desktop, fold her hands together and start rocking her body backwards and forwards. She finally stopped rocking and started staring at me intensely. What she hoped to achieve by this was unclear.
I felt it was time to give her som encouragement and guidance.
“Dear Lady.” My tone was extremely patient and sympathetic. “You have to give me a sales pitch, you know. You aren’t going to sell me anything by just looking at me and clamming up.”
She frowned, and kept frowning for a while. Then, to my astonishment, she blew herself up like a frog, pointed at the door and screamed hysterically, “UD FOR FAEN!!! UD!!!” (This translates roughly as “Get the fuck out of here! Get out!”)
I rose politely while she glared at me balefully, quivering and looking very apoplectic. Having opened the door preparatory to leaving, I addressed her again.
“But Dear Lady.” My tone was full of fatherly concern. “You aren’t going to activate me into buying anything by throwing me out of your office. Have you paid money for these courses? Are you sure you haven’t been ripped off?”
That really did it! She shot to her feet like a champagne cork, hunched her shoulders, withdrew her head like a turtle, stamped on the floor and, gesticulating hysterically in the direction of the door with her index finger, her whole arm and her whole body, emitted an even more ear-splitting “UD FOR FAEN!!! UD!!! U-U-U-D!!!”
Out of concern for her observably imminent heart attack I withdrew.
Don’t miss the scientific conclusions and wrap-up on the site.
raincoaster 