I actually didn’t mean to post that, but whatever.

I’m not back. I was just fixing something.

Hair-Brained Nutrition

I periodically suffer from low blood pressure. It causes light-headedness, headaches, and similar mild inconveniences. My doctor said, paraphrased, ‘yeah, that happens sometimes.’ It’s not bad, just sort-of annoying.

But it is sort-of annoying, so I searched the web, made the mistake of going to WebMD (discovering I had cancer, lupus, and am possibly pregnant), and found a little hippy website of nonsense. They had crystals to save my chakrahs. Exotic salts to open my pores. Grass-fed chicken.

But among the inane babble, they said that I might need to eat more salt. Typically I consume very low sodium sort-of by accident, sort-of by design, but several, admittedly garbage, references said that in dry, thin air, slightly increased salt intake can help with low blood pressure and light-headedness.

I tried it. It seems to be working. Anecdotal? Absolutely. Observational bias? Quite likely. But low cost, low risk? Yes.

The important thing here is to keep perspective. Don’t skip a vaccine or medical procedure because the web told you so. That’s unreasonable. But adding a little soy-sauce to a post workout meal is reasonable.

Deeper, critical thinking and cost-benefit analysis don’t lend themselves to absolutist interpretations. A little soy-sauce is just that, a little. The commentariat often interprets ‘a little’ as half a liter a day, because that way the commentariat can get upset, and the odd way internet algorithms work is by boosting extreme reactions.

I suppose this also ties into the information dearth. I’m not going into detail on my diet and water intake, so readers are welcome to extrapolate whatever they want. I may impel them to assume I eat nothing but junk food and sugar, or vegan cheese and kale. From there one can take whatever issuance one desires.

BTW, vegan cheese exists. It’s a term for non-cow-based cheese substitute. I didn’t know that, but it’s in the grocery store.

In Yeats’s Second Coming, he says, ‘The best lack all conviction,…’ Archilochus mentions, ‘The fox knows many things, but the hedgehog knows one big thing.’ I feel like I’m touching on the edges of some deep buried truth, poorly understood, and my fingers, working where I can’t see, only roughly get its boundaries. But I think there’s something in there.

The thread of this poorly knitted thought is: If a hippy tells me to try the soy sauce, I’ll try the soy sauce. If they tell me to abandon the things I love, I won’t. I don’t believe in crystal healing, but I do like cool rocks.


There were no ad blockers in print media, but there were no moving ads, auto-play ads, ads that hid the ‘close’ button, or ads that hijacked your viewing interface.

There were ads that misrepresented themselves.

My next project is live!


Sweet Sarah Kowalski
A Short Story
by John Doe

Sarah Kowalski had always loved sleepy Falmouth with its vigilant, vacant volcanoes. It was a place where she felt angry.

She was a sweet, stupid, tea drinker with scrawny eyes and moist fingers. Her friends saw her as a grieving, gentle god. Once, she had even brought a wrong old lady back from the brink of death. That’s the sort of woman he was.

Sarah walked over to the window and reflected on her quiet surroundings. The drizzle rained like sleeping puppies.

Then she saw something in the distance, or rather someone. It was the figure of Roger Vader. Roger was a patient do gooder with squat eyes and moist fingers.

Sarah gulped. She was not prepared for Roger.

As Sarah stepped outside and Roger came closer, she could see the better glint in his eye.

“Look Sarah,” growled Roger, with a clumsy glare that reminded Sarah of patient pigeons. “It’s not that I don’t love you, but I want love. You owe me 9403 gold pieces.”

Sarah looked back, even more angry and still fingering the tiny banana. “Roger, I ate your puppy,” she replied.

They looked at each other with cross feelings, like two gigantic, grisly goldfish dancing at a very popular bar mitzvah, which had flute music playing in the background and two energetic uncles boating to the beat.

Sarah studied Roger’s squat eyes and moist fingers. Eventually, she took a deep breath. “I’m afraid I declared myself bankrupt,” explained Sarah. “You will never get your money.”

“No!” objected Roger. “You lie!”

“I do not!” retorted Sarah. “Now get your squat eyes out of here before I hit you with this tiny banana.”

Roger looked delighted, his wallet raw like a teeny-tiny, thoughtful teapot.

Sarah could actually hear Roger’s wallet shatter into 9403 pieces. Then the patient do gooder hurried away into the distance.

Not even a cup of tea would calm Sarah’s nerves tonight.

I don’t know what my favorite part is.

Is it the Sarah/Roger ship? They have moist fingers.

Or the double power moves?

“Roger, I ate your puppy.”

“I’m afraid I declared myself bankrupt.”

Two thumbs up!

It’s an algorithmic story generator, and I have nothing to do with it. I just love it and shall call him George.


They’re distinctly unnatural, but that’s oddly useful. Guardrails and houses are unnatural, and in the wild, one doesn’t mistake them for anything else.