“Forget the Fads: This is the Only Diet Tip You Need” in Dr. Eifrig’s Health & Wealth Bulletin

Dr. Eifrig, a friend and colleague, has come to the same conclusion I have: The Mediterranean diet has the most science behind it, and the Keto diet, while good in some respects, is not sustainable and therefore not optimal. Read what he has to say in this article, and make your own decision. LINK

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“US-Iran Tensions: From Political Coup to Hostage Crisis to Drone Strikes” on History.com

This brief review of US-Iran relations over the last 70 years provides a depressing picture of how difficult it is to try to control the activities of other sovereign nations – particularly when you have America’s foreign policy being run by politically appointed people with little to no experience in international business and global politics. LINK

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In a short article on Medium.com titled “I Don’t Believe in Climate Change,” Duncan Riach makes a good point – that it’s a mistake to frame the issue as a black-and-white, true-or-false argument. Climate change is not about “belief.” It’s about science, he reminds us, where propositions are made based on observation and then tested.

You can read the entire article here.

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The latest issue of Independent Healing: “Infinite Immunity”

A Nobel-Prize-winning discovery shows that our bodies have the natural ability to destroy all illness. But modern life is sabotaging our in-born defense against disease. In this issue, you’ll discover how to get it back. LINK

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“Emily Dickinson, Freelancer” in The New Yorker

Emily Dickinson was one of America’s great poets. If you’re familiar with some of her better-known poems, you’ll enjoy this…LINK

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“Burning the Old Year” by Naomi Shihab Nye

 

Letters swallow themselves in seconds,

Notes friends tied to the doorknob,

transparent scarlet paper,

sizzle like moth wings,

marry the air.

 

So much of any year is flammable,

lists of vegetables, partial poems.

Orange swirling flame of days,

so little is a stone.

 

Where there was something and suddenly isn’t,

an absence shouts, celebrates, leaves a space.

I begin again with the smallest numbers.

 

Quick dance, shuffle of losses and leaves,

only the things I didn’t do

crackle after the blazing dies.

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“The Darkling Thrush” by Thomas Hardy

I leant upon a coppice gate

When Frost was spectre-gray,

And Winter’s dregs made desolate

The weakening eye of day.

The tangled bine-stems scored the sky

Like strings of broken lyres,

And all mankind that haunted nigh

Had sought their household fires.

 

The land’s sharp features seemed to be

The Century’s corpse outleant,

His crypt the cloudy canopy,

The wind his death-lament.

The ancient pulse of germ and birth

Was shrunken hard and dry,

And every spirit upon earth

Seemed fervourless as I.

 

At once a voice arose among

The bleak twigs overhead

In a full-hearted evensong

Of joy illimited;

An aged thrush, frail, gaunt, and small,

In blast-beruffled plume,

Had chosen thus to fling his soul

Upon the growing gloom.

 

So little cause for carolings

Of such ecstatic sound

Was written on terrestrial things

Afar or nigh around,

That I could think there trembled through

His happy good-night air

Some blessed Hope, whereof he knew

And I was unaware.

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