About Eeyore

Canadian artist and counter-jihad and freedom of speech activist as well as devout Schrödinger's catholic

17 Replies to “Plants are trying to kill you”

  1. Most of the posts here on Vlad are damn good – but this one dropped my IQ by 20 pts. Typical MD pontificating about shit he doesn’t properly understand. I worked in plant genomics research for over a decade, and his case is ridiculously overstated.

    • I developed IBS (Intestinal Bowel Syndrome) a little over one year ago. It was quite sudden. I couldn’t understand what had happened to me since my main diet was vegetables and fruits. Not much meat. And the only type of bread I ate was whole wheat. I thought I was eating the healthy way.

      There’s a diet to follow for people like me, FODMAP. So, the only bread I can eat is sourdough. Most of the veggies are out the door. Meat is good. So, looking at the video, I now understand what happened to me and I’m not the only one with IBS.

      EEYORE: Thank you for the great video. I’ll speak with my doctor about it.

      • It likely depends on the individual to a degree.

        Read Dr. Atkins’ book, “The New Diet Revolution”. Its not the same, but it does explain why carbs, especially refined carbs are a serious problem and would require a prescription if introduced today.

        So its interesting how the two ideas dovetail to a degree.

    • I agree, my father has been eating this stuff for over 100 years and it still hasn’t killed him, my mother did for 95 years and her mother for 92 years, what went wrong?

  2. So the bible says, do not eat pork. What is a typical diet recommended by this guy? Eggs in the morning, chicken for lunch and steak for dinner? Beer, wine and Jack & Coke?

  3. Can I just say, I am really enjoying the comments on this post!

    I’ve had a couple of phone calls which are about the same as well.

    Personally I just like hearing someone trash-talk salads and vegetables in a doctorish way.

    • Check out IBS (Intestinal Bowel Syndrome). They don’t know what causes it. Then check out FODMAP. This guy might be on to something. Me, I’m taking him seriously.

      Go back and think of our parents and grandparents. They weren’t into the ‘veggie-type’ diet, for them it was all meat, peeled potatoes, and eggs. Only later did the super-healthy loads of veggies show up and we all started on the broccoli and spinach as an aside on our plate. And their bowels were healthy.

    • There’s something wrong with you Eeyore… Us gardeners need to have hope in our harvests! Here, have a serrano pepper. Makes great eyeliner too. 🙂

      • I accept that diagnosis. Also I have a real thing for hot peppers and spices.

        But I find that If you eat enough hot peppers, they make themselves into an “eyeliner” of sorts.

  4. Warm like summer in regretful retreat, the mid-August day was flying by.

    Jerry and Cal were looking out over their garden. “It’s true,” Cal said, “you can be raised with a certain set of principles that are mostly good. Then you grow up and look at some things you were told and say, well, that’s just ridiculous.” Jerry looked up and saw a single puff of dark cloud barely missing the sun as it slid eastward.
    “Have you spoken to any of the Greens lately?”
    “I said hello to Mrs. Colwin this morning. She didn’t mention anything.”

    It had been a turbulent few months, to say the least. Jerry thought back and tried to remember another time when things had been like this. Tensions were tight. You didn’t know who you could trust anymore. Never had she heard so many lies about so many things, and never had she seen so many believing in them. It was dangerous. The Greens were just one example among too many. When she asked Mrs. Colwin why they had been singled out, her answer stuck. “That’s just the way it is,” she said, as if this simply were some forgotten but accepted universal, eternal law of physics.

    Being accused of hoarding water is one thing, thought Jerry, but when accusations turn to hoarding sunlight then, well, you have officially arrived at Crazytown. Absurd as it all was, there were far too many who had bought into the narrative.

    In terms of experimentation, this garden was proving to be a surprising success. Wildly so, in fact. Rather than grouping all the various plant types strictly together, their distribution was more random. Groupings existed but were not forced by decree. The thinking was that there would be no need for the usual year over year crop rotation if the plants mingled more. Also, the depletion of various nutrients in the soil would be less, given the reduction in plot homogeneity. Yes, it was a little chaotic at times, especially with the cucumbers going everywhere, but it was hard to argue with success. What a great bounty it all promised.

    Rumours of the previous year’s failure came from the few tomato seeds that had survived that winter’s deep frost. These accidental perennials, revered at once by some as mystics and by others as unstable conspiracy theorists, recounted the horrors of an experiment gone terribly wrong. Since no living plants had actually experienced the past firsthand, the tomatoes had to be relied on heavily for some historical record. Only they had known ancestors from this same soil. While there were ways to verify some of what was told, theirs were the closest to accounts anything resembling contemporaneous evidence.

    The plants could not know that this year’s garden was unmatched by any other in terms of freedom, prosperity and innovation. Many vegetables in the patch found the tomatoes’ story believable simply because it was too outlandish to be fiction. They described a dark, ruthless world where plants were expected to share resources equitably. Where a central authority that declared itself above God had an ideological understanding of science so twisted, so displaced from reality, that its final failure was epic in scale. Up was decreed to be the new down, good the new bad, and truth the new lie. Anyone challenging the orthodoxy was attacked as an extremist, a racist, or as some kind of threat to the “greater good.” Many a good character was defamed and condemned by a society stolen into a collectivist nightmare.

    The tomatoes said that, in the end, almost all the vegetables died. Of course, the “equitable” sharing of resources did not happen. Massive, thirsty pumpkins would never sacrifice their water consumption for an little onion, no matter how nice the onion was. The tomatoes claimed voices from the wilderness–a few carrots and corn–tried their best to explain the basics of existentialism. Some were murdered. All perished in the drought. When the rains did not arrive as expected there was not enough moisture to go round–not even for the pumpkins. The tomatoes did, however, speak of one type of vegetable that may have survived, but no specific memory remained.

    Oddly, despite neither nature nor nurture playing any meaningful role in their cohabitation, the carrots and the corn got along well, again, in this year’s garden. The corn admired the carrots’ intellectualism, humour, and exceptional abilities at linear thinking. The carrots appreciated the corns’ imagination and non-linear thinking abilities. Somehow the corn managed leaps over logic into territories previously unknown.

    Suddenly, another cloud came by and covered the sun. The warmth and light of the lovely afternoon receded, slightly, and the mood of the otherwise quiet, placid garden changed instantly.

    Plants can be dramatic, even mercurial in their moods. Vegetables are the worst. They will feign thirst and wilt even in a deluge if they become depressed over any little thing. It may be an ant nibbling on a shoot, or an opportunistic dandelion trespassing on a pepper’s space. Anything can set them off. Spaghetti squash has been known to emotionally detonate over nothing but a dirty look. It’s a wonder the system worked, but it did so fabulously, until now. With the dark cloud still hovering between the earth and the sun the voices began percolating up. Before long it grew into a cacophonous riot of words. Words, words and more words. Everyone had a voice, and no one had a voice. Voices without bodies generating so many words they became valueless.

    “I’m thirsty,” said the baby cucumber.
    “Ask a carrot for water, they’ve got it all,” shot his mother.
    “What happened to the sun? I can’t take this,” mumbled the okra.
    “Relax,” came another voice from the crowd, “the cloud will pass.”
    “I don’t think it’s ever coming back.”
    “They did something to the sun.”
    “You know perfectly well who.”
    “Can you prove it?”
    “Hear that, everyone? This corn is asking if we can prove it. Jerry is part of the problem!”
    “They own everything. What makes you think they don’t own the sun?”
    “–And the water.”
    “It’s all about control.”
    “It’s all about suppressing the truth.”
    “You wouldn’t know the truth if it jumped up and bit you on the ass.”
    “Screw you! At least I have an ass.”
    “Everyone calm down.”
    “You calm down. If it wasn’t for you we wouldn’t be in this mess.”
    “The cloud will pass.”
    “No it won’t, and it’s our own damn fault. Stop exhaling.”
    “There are too many vegetables here. We have to cull the herd.”
    “You first, asshole.”

    And so it went. Unfortunately, a low front was moving in for what was to be a simple summer rain. In its neurotic state the garden conflated this natural phenomenon with something sinister. Pervasive were the cucumbers, who had extended quietly throughout the plot, and who now occupied all the strategic locations. They whispered the same lies over and over until some of the vegetables came to believe them.

    “RABBIT!” someone screamed.
    “Rabbit? I don’t see no rabbit,” said the potato.
    “There! I think it was there near that weed. It’s brown and HUGE!”
    “I don’t see it. Maybe you’re imagining it.”
    “You see? Now rabbits don’t exist according to this guy, when they clearly do. Get his name.” The bubbling of voices continued.
    “–We’re all gonna die.”
    “–Of thirst.”
    “–Of darkness.”
    “–Of rabbit.”
    “I heard they wanna tear down the fences.”
    “They do. That’s a fact. I read it.”
    “We’ll be overrun by rabbits.”
    “And weeds.”
    “Notice how quiet the carrots are?”
    “And the corn. Don’t forget about the corn.”
    “Pull ’em! Pull ’em! Pull ’em!” the chant began. The mob was in charge.

    Jerry took a deep breath and sighed. She looked up to the sky, then back down to the earth. Towering over the garden, she saw beyond the fences. No, there was no rabbit inside. She looked at the humble parsley nestled beside the Swiss chard. All the parsley had ever wanted was to be left alone.

    • LOL!! I love it! You are too much … 🙂

      This was “deliciously counter-narrative” … The last three years I’ve wracked my brain over what to eat since suddenly developing an allergy to nickel in foods … and I’ve come to the conclusion that although there are some specific things I can only eat once in a very great while, I think the rule is “everything in moderation” for most folks … I mean, we need roughage, right? LOL. And grow your own vegetables, like Jerry and Cal.

  5. This is in keeping with what Jordan Peterson found when he switched to an essentially carnivore diet. This was humanity’s diet for >95% of our history until farming (and the increased population) enabled it to be only the food for the rich (average Romans rarely saw meat unless it was a holiday and then it was still more likely to be only fish).

    Most vegetables and fruits that we eat have been “improved” by man over millennia and IMO there is some truth in this video. Most human involvement in plant genetics is about productivity and hardiness for a certain environment and I doubt that they even know/care what newer chemicals are produced by the plant that do this.

    However, I felt that seeds and nuts and probably fruits are mostly safe as they need animals for dispersal (if almond cyanide killed, I would have died years ago) and if they killed the animal, in the long or short time, it would be counterproductive.

    In addition, there is mithridatism, where the ingestion of small amounts of poison (cyanide as above) every day builds up resistance to the poison. Obviously, this (like everything) is dose related and does not include accumulative poisons such as heavy metals etc. So, this bit is underwhelming IMO

    I also doubt that most of the “carcinogens have really been shown unequivocally to be such. If one plant has 60 such supposedly, I would like to know who funded this research and see the actual details of the “proof”. In other words, a lot of such “research” IMO could well be garbage.

    The crunch here is in processed foods and that includes any breakfast cereal other than non-genetic tampered rolled oats/wheat porridge and I do not trust such as Kellogs.

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