Mushrooms and the Medical Manual

As a thought exercise, I decided to do what the anonymous author of "Wine and the Bible" did with wine, to mushrooms. I was only able to find 19th-century citations for the first two categories.

I found that all passages where mushrooms are mentioned, fall under three headings: a) where mushrooms are merely mentioned, b) where they are spoken of as a cause of misery and death, c) where they a blessing and source of ethereal enlightenment.

Examples:
a)"Konstantin was out wandering in the woods looking for mushrooms after the rain." The Small Rain by Diana Raymond, 1955
b) "Probably a single one of these is responsible for a vast majority of the fatal accidents resulting from mushroom poisoning. There are however some species in other genera that are capable of causing nausea vomiting and derangement of the digestive organs." The West American Scientist, 1895
c) "The taste of magic mushrooms are far from the best gourmet meals. However, once you get past the taste, they can open you up to sensations you’ve never had. Those who ate magic shrooms always talk of having an out-of-body experience, a feeling of time slowing down, and an openness to their imagination." www.trufflemagic.com, 2019

Now, how does one ensure that his mushrooms are of the heavenly kind and not the hellish kind? It isn't easy, but one can start by overturning cow patties:

"Psilocybe cubensis mushrooms usually grow on patties that have had a little time to soak themselves into the soil - I would guesstimate that 2 week-old patties would be ideal. The mushrooms may be growing either straight out of the patty or very near it. As for picking, cubensis mushrooms are fully mature when the veil has broken and the caps are relatively flat (depending on the strain). The ideal time to pick is 24-36 hours after a good rain (0.5" or more) in 65-85F weather. Be sure to identify them PROPERLY and THOROUGHLY before consuming any mushroom"  answers.yahoo.com, 2019

But don't just go grabbing fruiting bodies off any pile of dung, either:
"Psilocybe cubensis, commonly called the Golden Top, is a prolific dung-inhabiting mushroom found mostly in the spring to early summer. Its striking appearance, size, and fairly exclusive habitat makes identification relatively easy. This is not true of the Psilocybe genus as a whole, however; Many of the hallucinogenic species closely parallel the appearance of some of the most deadly poisonous mushrooms." www.potent.media/magic-mushroom-guide 2019

So, it looks like it boils down to this: Once you've eaten a mushroom and feel nothing, the mushroom being referred to is obviously from category (a). If, however, you begin to vomit and feel your internal organs shutting down, obviously this reference was to a mushroom of category (b). But if you begin to feel at one with the universe, you've connected with a reference of the last category, (c).

Enjoy your mushrooms! And please, consume them responsibly--unfermented and gluten-free.

Demythologizing the Santa Scripture

I've been away from my blog since the month before last, and since I committed to posting at least once every three months until I die, here's one for today.

The following is a letter, allegedly written by a mythical creature known as Santa (short for Santa Claus, derived from Sinterklaas, a Dutch-American appellation for Nikolaos of Mura):

"Dear children, regrettably I bring bad tidings. For some time now, melting ice here in the North Pole has made our operations and our day-to-day life intolerable and impossible and there may be no alternative but to cancel Christmas. I have written personally to President Obama, President Putin -- all world leaders. Sadly my letters have been met with indifference. Needless to say these individuals are now at the top of my naughty list. My home in the Arctic is fast disappearing and unless we all act urgently then I have to warn you of the possibility of an empty stocking forevermore. Please help me."

I wrote earlier about the alarming icemelt during an Antarctic summer, but this is the first time I ever read about the Arctic ice melting in the winter. As far as I know, no one has ever traveled to the North Pole during the Northern Winter, any more than to the South Pole during the Southern Winter.
[UPDATE JUNE 2016: As I write, a daring flight to the South Pole is underway, just three days before the onset of Southern Winter. Only one flight to the pole has ever been made even in the Southern Autumn, in April of 2001.]

Santa shouldn't be so distressed. With the unlimited carrying capacity of his sleigh, he could pull a reverse on the Arctic Tern and just move his whole toy-making operation to the other Pole during the ice-melting season (he'd have to get permission from President Obama, though, who claims sovereignty over the South Pole). Furthermore, according to his evolutionary beliefs (assuming that 'Santa' here is just a pseudonym for a Greenpeace copywriter), there would be no coal to put in stockings if it hadn't been for a powerful global warming trend jillions of years ago.

Relax, Jason, the ice in Antartica isn't shrinking any more.

I received an email today from Jason Mraz. I have only a slight idea who he is (for example, I'm quite sure, just from his name, that he's a male, but not an Asian, African or Afro-American), and he has even less of an idea who I am, but he emailed me all the same. This is what he wrote:
-----------------
Dear friend,

When I play my music, I always hope I serve a purpose greater than myself. And I care very deeply about finding a solution to the biggest problem we face on our planet. That's global climate change, caused by pollution from human beings like you and me.

Maybe you already know something about climate change. This winter, I got to learn a lot more about it. I joined Al Gore on a trip to Antarctica, where climate change is more visible and scary than almost anywhere else.

This trip to the bottom of the world was a once-in-a-lifetime experience. I saw penguins standing on top of ice that's melting fast. I saw for myself, up close and personal, how our beautiful planet is under threat. . .
-------------------

Well, I have news for Jason, whoever he is. Every winter (now I know he's not an Aussie, a Kiwi, or a European-African), it's summer in Antarctica. The sun shines. All day. All night. It gets warm. Penguins frolic. Ice melts. The ice sheets retreat. Fast.

But relax, Jason. Now, it's winter in Antarctica. Cold. Dark. All day. All night. Winds howl. Penguins huddle. Water freezes. The ice sheets advance. Fast.

Of Kittens and Kids

The queen at our farm gave birth to kittens several weeks ago. That was welcome news to the cat's owner, who absolutely adores kittens. This is her third litter and, for the first time so far, all have survived. In all our years of owning cats, we've never had too few or too many; but we do have enough already, and these four are welcome to move out once they pass the cute stage.

That's right, she had four kittens. If she lived in many cities of the United States, that would already make us criminals; many town ordinances ban owning more than four pets per residence. I'm glad that residents of these towns are presumed innocent of this offense unless somebody complains; but a criminal in hiding is no less a criminal.

And we also have children at our farm. In all our years of having children, we've never had too few or too many; but we do have enough already, and the oldest ones are welcome to move out once they are ready to start families of their own. But I don't recommend they move to St. Louis to do so.

The City of St. Louis restricts families from having more than two children per bedroom. Which means that for some home owners, amid the joys of a baby sibling arriving comes the realization that the new little one has rendered the rest of his family criminals--or exiles.

Sigh. Read the opening chapters of Exodus to get an idea of what God thinks of such a policy.

Fuel burns

Southern California is aflame with several massive wildfires eating through thousands of acres of federal land.

That last phrase is the key to the problem. LA suburbanites have built their homes right up to the wooded foothills that house, among others, the Los Padres National Forest. Now, there are two things about this that make the fire so devastating.

One, since the federal land is rugged, fire crews have a hard time getting out on it to put out the fires.

Two, since the federal land is protected, no one has been allowed to clear out the dead brush that is currently feeding the flames. Some of that fuel has been accumulating for fifty years.

The combination of suburbia bordering a massive fuel dump has naturally resulted in the loss of dozens of homes, with many more to come before the fire can be contained. Ironically, the best news for these homeowners is that the remnants of Hurricane Jimena are on their way with far more water than has been thrown at the fire to date.

The other good news is that the burned-over areas are not going to be susceptible to wildfires for at least another few years.