Oh Dear. Greta’s Family Works in Nuclear and She Was a Chernobyl Baby

Remember when I noted that climate change activist Greta Thunberg and all so-called climate change activism is demonstrably pro-nuclear?  And when I speculated that Greta’s self-described autistic “super power” was really brain damage from likely radioactive environmental pollution, exactly the kind of environmental pollution that Greta herself never speaks about or acknowledges at all…in her work as a leader in an alleged environmental activist movement?  Well, there is now an article written on a conspiratard site that confirms both of my suspicions.  And the above vid that cites the article.

Sadly, there are no citations in the article itself on which to follow up and I don’t know what that means.  Did the writer — himself an anti-nuke activist and Hiroshima baby — just make it all up out of whole cloth?  Maybe, but we can also get pretty far down that road by simply using common sense, considering that there are a lot of radiation-damaged people in Greta’s neck of the woods.  Here is a map showing dangerous, genetically/generationally damaging Chernobyl fallout covering parts (well, almost all) of Finland, Sweden and Norway.  Greta’s mother was likely exposed to it as a child in the 80s and they all continue to bask in it today, considering that radioactive contamination stays dangerous forever and never goes away.

When trying to confirm the claims that Greta’s family is involved in the nuclear industry, I found this article on another conspiratard site which seems to back it up and references some intrigue, namely orphanings, adoptions and multiple name changes of her male and female ancestors that make researching her family and their connections difficult if not impossible.  Here is the part I would be interested in corroborating.  From the first conspiratard article:

Greta’s grandfather Lars Lars Ernman, is retired chief financial officer (CFO) of Sandvik, a world-leading tool-maker that manufactures saws and drills for home carpentry, and also steel pipes for nuclear power plants. In partnership with the French atomic energy giant AREVA, the Swedish manufacturer also produces drilling, tunneling and rock-crushing equipment for the global uranium-mining industry.

I also find it interesting that Greta’s ancestors are seasoned professional actors, as do the conspiratards who are starting to suspect that there’s something not-so authentic about Greta and the movement she has inspired.  A movement that both explicitly and implicitly supports nuclear power while blaming soccer moms for catastrophic weather and climate change while demonstrably not blaming one of the — if not the — largest most environmentally damaging industries this planet has ever known and will ever know again: the nuclear industry, which notoriously pumps out not merely genetic/generational mutations, illness and death but also “hot particles” which contaminate our water, soil, biomass and ourselves with literal heat.

Defeat, Entrapment & Suicide. A Recent Model of Suicidality

Since writing about my own Crohn’s disease and social unsupport-related suicide (well, euthanasia) attempts I have researched suicide a bit and found something interesting.  Much more interesting than the usual twaddle about anxiety, depression and so-called “mental health” issues that sorry, every woman in this hell-dimension probably experiences somewhat regularly as oppressed people who are almost always trying to keep things alive in a necrophilic culture whether it be plants, pets, children, partners, elderly parents and/or ourselves.

In my estimation, the unusually high stakes of that particular game and myriad of obstacles intentionally placed in our way — meaning quite literally that if we let our guards down for a fucking second, and even if we don’t, literal death will come knocking for ourselves and/or our dependents for which we will suffer both the loss and the blame — would tend to be anxiety-producing in many, most if not all women.  Understanding intellectually, intuitively and/or by experience that our role as lifekeepers in a more or less global necrophilic (patriarchal) context is likely to be impossibly difficult (and ultimately futile, because mortality) is depressing.  And when I say depressing, obviously I mean that any of us would be forgiven if we just couldn’t get up the mental or physical energy to do it anymore.

And we all know the effects of gaslighting by now since it was very helpfully illustrated in a play and then 2 derivative Hollywood movies that perhaps not very many modern people have seen but which concept has come to be understood and referenced in popular culture as well as in clinical and research literature studying abuse — the intent and effect of gaslighting is to deliberately drive the victim insane.  So we have deliberately and predictably anxiety-producing living conditions for most if not all women, which conditions are or become depressing due to futility and exhaustion and then everyone we know and indeed our entire culture/s gaslight us about all of this — telling us in a million ways every day that these conditions that are demonstrably real, aren’t — until we crack, if we don’t die first.  There’s your “mental health” crisis innit.

The Welfare Gnome! It’s Like a Sock Gnome Except This One Can Actually Kill You. Ft. Joker (Again)

According to the internet, a “sock gnome” is a mythical creature that pilfers socks.  Presumably it lives in or around the dryer where you put an even number of socks in and get an odd number out.  Sometimes it gets tricksy and spits out an even number but the pairs don’t match (meaning it’s pilfered one from more than one pair) but the usual evidence that you’ve had a sock pilfered by a gnome is that there is one left over that doesn’t have a mate and the missing sock never reappears ever.  This is a real thing (if not a real gnome) and everyone knows what this means.

Well, there appears to be a similar creature that lives at Social Services and pilfers sick and poor people’s applications for welfare benefits.  Or something, idk.  I assume these creatures are related but maybe not since this gnome doesn’t play games: its goal seems to be to drive you insane before it literally kills you.  I wrote here before about an application for benefits that went missing, along with a half a dozen other boondoggles that have wasted my spoons and left me scrambling to repeat some administrative process I was barely able to complete survive the first time.

Because while a sick person’s literal inability to jump through bureaucratic hoops is actually the best evidence that someone is extremely ill, someone has decided that only those who are well enough to sing for their supper (or pursue benefits) deserve to eat, as it were.  The first application that went missing was for food stamps, while today I found out that my application to get on a 4 month waitlist to see a doctor went missing 2 months ago and has not been since heard from: although my disability advocate hand-delivered it, the application was never received.

The Fraud of Western Psychiatry: A Mental Health Mashup Just in Time for the Holidays. You’re Welcome.

The nuclear family is the site of oppression, coercion and abuse for so many people, especially female people, worldwide, and yet “the family” is rarely discussed in political (or radical) terms.  Last year around this time, I wrote about various familial abuses traditionally suffered by girls and women and suggested that oppression, coercion and abuse is the reason “the holidays” are such a stressful time for people, especially women.  In my observation, the refusal of most people to address the horrors of what really happens in families just leads to confusion and avoidance — and massive cognitive dissonance — where people express dread, anxiety and other negative emotions around family-focused holidays, but only manage in reducing this common experience to a joke/meme and avoiding unpleasant sensations by drinking (or eating, or shopping, or fucking, or cleaning, or decorating, or otherwise medicating) heavily until it’s over. 

That message was generally not taken well, where I gently (and tangentially, it was literally a parenthetical) suggested that a guaranteed way to stop familial oppression, coercion and abuse (of mostly females) was to stop creating so-called nuclear families at all.  Antinatalism, basically.  I know, right?  Antinatalism wasn’t even the dominant theme of that post but I’m such a misogynistic, baby-hating bitch for letting my mind lady-brain wander there, even parenthetically, how dare I (use the internet to talk about the female experience and female oppression).  How very damn dare I.

Sticking with the holiday theme of oppression, coercion and abuse — because it’s fucking relevant — those things are known to cause so-called psychiatric symptoms in people, particularly women as they are its primary targets under a more or less global patriarchy.  In large numbers, girls and women (female human beings) experience anxiety, depression, disassociation and other uncomfortable and debilitating states as a result of being oppressed, coerced and abused, and a lot of women are prescribed and take psychiatric drugs so that these uncomfortable states go away, or have less of an impact on our lives.  And by “lives” I of course mean our ability to show up and be ab/used by our capitalistic, patriarchal overlords including (almost always male) partners, employers and other authority figures.  Mother’s Little Helper and all that.

If these medications actually worked — that is, if they did what they say on the tin and relieved us of our agony — they still wouldn’t be beyond reproach.  There are compelling political and indeed medical arguments against treating people with dangerous Big Pharma medications to ease uncomfortable states of being.  For example, the debilitating and often permanent physical and mental “side effects” of prescription medications, otherwise known as iatrogenic illness and injury that are often just as bad or even worse than the original disease.  As usual, Big Medicine offers suffering people the chance to trade one illness for another, and another, and another, and to pay through the nose for the privilege.

Many times it’s not even a proper trade because the drugs are unable to cure the original disease and the new, treatment-induced injuries and illnesses are just added on.  (This is the case with Crohn’s disease for example which is known to be an incurable disease.)  Either way, the misery is compounded.  Well, it appears to be an open secret within the psychiatric community that psychiatric medications don’t do what they say on the tin.  Women are taking anti-anxiety, anti-depressant, anti-psychotic and other psychotropic medications to treat the effects of political and interpersonal oppression — and are being asked to concurrently swallow the cultural fiction that their discomfort is not political and originates in their own biochemistry — and the medications don’t even work, because they can’t work, because there is nothing chemical to treat, get it?

As discussed below, it appears as if the theory that a chemical imbalance in the brain causes psychiatric symptoms has been thoroughly debunked, yet application of this flawed theory continues: people continue to be medicated for “mental” conditions that are not biochemical and therefore are not amenable to chemical therapies.  These medications also cause frightening and severe negative outcomes long-term and psychiatrists know all of that but they keep prescribing them anyway.

Here are some clips that illustrate what seems to be the situation in which we find ourselves.  Namely, that oppression, coercion and abuse are unavoidable in this system; families are the original and main exposure to those things for most women globally and familial exposure in particular cannot be avoided; oppression, coercion and abuse cause the symptoms we know as mental illness; and every medication in Big Medicine’s arsenal is known to not work to treat it and to even make patients’ physical and mental conditions worse over time.  More videos and discussion below the fold.

A Note to the Turmeric and Yoga Crowd. TL;DR. You Aren’t That Sick.

Let me preface this note by saying that I was able to somewhat control my Crohn’s symptoms for 30 fucking years before I got sick.  And when I say “sick” I mean sick-sick.  The kind that is undeniably disabling, mostly doesn’t respond to treatment and never goes away.

Because I have explored and/or experienced these things firsthand, I know all about prescription and over the counter medication including oral, topical and other traditional medications, as well as Chinese medicine; homeopathy; reflexology; chiropractic; Ayurveda; herbal remedies and tonics; restrictive diets and enteral feeds; probiotics and fermented foods; vitamins, minerals and other supplements; trendy exercise programs and basic ones too; every form of detox, cleanse, fast and purge imaginable (and then some); acupuncture/acupressure/cupping/spooning; aromatherapy; crystal and precious metals therapies; therapeutic massage; meditation and relaxation practices; binaural beats and sound therapy; infrared therapy; Reiki and other energy work; atheist-prayer; talk therapy and otherwise working out your issues; knock-you-down-to-build-you-back-up emotional bootcamps; cutting “toxic people” and things out of your life; letting go and letting God; and thinking about something else for awhile.  Did I miss anything?  Jesus.

I’ve done it all and I’ve been doing it all for a very long time.  This is not my first day, or year, or decade with alternative therapies: I was avoiding nightshades while some of you were still eating French fries with your Happy Meals.  Think about that shit a minute.  I’ve been doing every alternative therapy imaginable since before many of you were even born.  And certainly before any of this shit became cool, or easily accessible, or at all normalized and/or mainstream. 

Potatoes (and therefore French fries) are a nightshade BTW, for anyone who doesn’t know.  And nightshades are known to be inflammatory.  I recently had an old family friend clue me into the harm nightshades can cause.  I recall trying to clue people into that in 1992 when I first learned about it but whatever right?  He figured it out 30 years later, after being in pain for decades and after having both knees replaced.  Good job dude.  Seriously, well fucking done.  These are the people, and the kinds of people, who are giving me advice.  It is, in a word, maddening.

I’ve also been keeping up with the research.  I research Crohn’s and other medical conditions weekly if not daily because I am interested in it and interested in the social commentary around it.  Where there is none, or nothing interesting, I create social commentary about it on this blog.  I know about fecal transplants and have written about it here, I know about so-called “Functional Medicine” and have written about that here, I know about stem-cell therapy (shudder) and Ketamine therapy.  I know that there is a potential gene therapy in the pipeline which I will probably never get to try.  Because these things cost money and are gatekept and are otherwise inaccessible and/or unsustainable over time.  We have been over this.  Even if these things work, there are reasons besides not knowing about it that prevent people from accessing them long term or at all.  Have you heard of?  Have you tried?  Yes.  Probably.  Seriously, stop wasting my fucking time.*

Of All The Things I’ve Lost, I Miss My Mind The Most. Ft. Joker

I recently wrote on my Patreon about Dave, my new disability advocate who seemed like he was going to be helpful for once.  Where my previous advocate was good at bleating on endlessly about my alleged “rights” as a disabled person, wasting my time and energy listening to her while not actually helping me gain access to resources, my new advocate put on a seriously impressive show.  Because I don’t have a car and am generally too sick to walk or ride my bike more than a couple of blocks, and likely too sick to drive even if I had a car, he arranged to pick me up for our appointments and afterwards took me back home.

Because I no longer possess executive function and cannot consistently or reliably complete tasks that require it (read: the stuff corporate executives pay other people to do for them, particularly female people, namely secretaries, wives and others) this man filled out applications for me, doing some of them online, addressed and mailed the ones going out of town and hand-delivered the rest.  This was almost unbelievably (!) helpful and I felt cautiously optimistic that things might finally be on the right track: a track towards getting me the disability and need-based benefits I’m entitled to as a seriously ill person with a disabling incurable, progressive disease.

To wit, Social Security benefits, into which I have paid since I started working when I was 15 and which they will just give to me freely if I live long enough but for which I have to beg in order to receive now, and housing, food and cash assistance that will help me stay in my little apartment, run my small business and somewhat control my environment and my access to climate control/lights/running water/refrigeration/toilet etc. and privacy and relative peace in which to care for my 2 adopted shelter cats and manage the daily pain and indignities of my disabling autoimmune disease.

The online application for SSD was returned to me in hardcopy to review, sign and return.  lol.  Along with a notice that if I want to also apply for SSI, the “other” form of disability-based benefits that’s basically exactly the same as SSD and as far as I know requires mostly the same information sent to the same place, I had to do a separate application for that.  lol.  The application for food and cash assistance was “never received” by social services, according to social services, even though Dave hand-delivered it and watched them time/date stamp it himself.  lol.

A “Rational Suicide” Note. Ft. Anne Örtegren.

This is a “suicide” note left by a ME/CFS sufferer who sought and found relief from her suffering via legal, medically assisted suicide.  She says this manifesto took her months to write, which I do not doubt a bit: it is long, detailed and polished and was written when she was feeling terrible.  She wrote it with the intent to describe her almost indescribable pain and experience, and to convince others to take action on behalf of ME/CFS sufferers, both of which are lofty communication goals when anyone is seriously ill.

Describing and convincing have been my most impossible endeavors since I’ve been seriously ill myself and I think I have mostly failed, judging by others’ reactions to everything I’ve managed to gather the physical and emotional grit to attempt to communicate: that I am seriously, hopelessly ill with an incurable, progressive disease, that there is no bottom to how bad this can get, and it matters not what anyone thinks about it.  Some things are just true regardless of whether anyone believes it.

In this note, ME/CFS patient Anne Örtegren describes symptoms and dilemmas I have experienced myself and she foresees logical outcomes to her predicament, something sick people and especially sick women are never allowed to do because catastrophization.  For example, she knows that her heightened sensitivity to light and sound will make treatment or recovery in a hospital setting impossible where the standard of care in that environment requires constant activity and interruptions, and provides no privacy and no escape from the harsh industrial lighting, interrogations by (allegedly) well meaning staff and the general hustle and bustle of capitalistic money making on the backs and bodies of sick and dying people.

That is but one example of a sick person making informed prognostications regarding likely outcomes of the things other people want to do to us, and as someone who shares these sensitivities to light and sound (and therefore an aversion to hospital settings) as but one example of our shared experience of being seriously ill, I appreciated her spelling it out.  I also feel extremely sad that she had to, and furious that no one who allegedly cared about her wellbeing including medical professionals who should be fucking sensitive to the actual needs of real patients could make the leap themselves.  There are many such examples in this letter.

See for yourselves, and understand that as illuminating and raw as this letter is, it’s also been edited by the publisher and a so-called suicide prevention expert because the bottom line everywhere appears to be that there is no such thing as rational suicide or euthanasia because well people and people who make money off of the long-term sick and dying say so.  And because living in this capitalistic, patriarchal nightmare is so hideous for so many people that “suicide contagion” exists, where just knowing that someone, somewhere had whatever it took to end themselves is likely to cause untold numbers of happy, healthy consumers with bright futures to do the same damn thing.  Yeah that’s it, let’s keep telling ourselves that.

The letter as published is reprinted below.  The unedited letter supposedly exists online somewhere if anyone cares to look and has the energy to figure out how and where the edited version differs from the original.  Comments are open below.