She/her. Swedish/Dutch. Writer, intersectional feminist, sex-positive. Ace and aro-adjacent. I do what I want. Note that I have no respect for Jew-haters.
The Mother Who Smelled Something Wrong.
In the spring of 1934, a Norwegian woman named Borgny Egeland walked into Oslo University Hospital with a question that no doctor in the country had been able to answer. Her two children, Liv, age six, and Dag, age four, had been born normal and then stopped developing. They could not speak. Dag could not sit without support. She had taken them to doctor after doctor for years. None of them could tell her why.
What none of them had noticed, or asked about, was the smell. Borgny had been noticing it for years: a sharp, musty odor in her children's urine. She mentioned it to a physician colleague of her husband, who happened to know of an unusual doctor at the university hospital. His name was Asbjørn Følling, and before becoming a medical doctor he had trained as a chemical engineer. He agreed to see the children mainly, as he later admitted, "because I did not want to be hostile to the mother."
Følling ran the standard battery of urine tests in his improvised attic laboratory. All came back normal. Then, almost as an afterthought, he added a few drops of ferric chloride, a routine reagent used to detect diabetic ketones. The solution was supposed to turn purple. It turned a vivid, unprecedented green. He checked the medical literature. No one had ever recorded this reaction before. He checked both children's samples again a week later. Green again. Over the next six weeks, working mostly alone, Følling processed twenty-two liters of the Egeland children's urine under an inert nitrogen atmosphere, filtering, isolating, purifying, until he identified the unknown compound: phenylpyruvic acid, a substance never previously found in a living human body.
He then screened 420 intellectually disabled patients at institutions across Oslo. Eight more tested positive, including two siblings. Five months after Borgny first walked through his door, Følling published his paper identifying a previously unknown inherited metabolic disease. He called it oligophrenia phenylpyruvica. The world would rename it phenylketonuria, PKU. Today, every baby born in the developed world is tested for it in the first days of life, and a simple dietary adjustment begun at birth prevents the intellectual disability entirely. Untreated, the condition destroys the developing brain. Caught in time, children with PKU grow up without any impairment at all.
Asbjørn Følling received the Fridtjof Nansen Prize, the Anders Jahres Award, and the Kennedy Foundation Award. He received honorary degrees and state honors across Europe. He did not receive the Nobel Prize. In the words of his field, he is "by many considered the most important medical scientist never to receive the Nobel Prize for Physiology or Medicine."
He found the answer in the smell no one else had asked about.
The exact metabolic cascade behind why a heavy meal knocks you out and why the blood draining theory is a complete myth. 👇
• The Myth: People believe digestion steals so much blood from the brain that you become neurologically exhausted. If this were true, you would pass out every time you ate.
• The Real Trigger: The actual culprit is a massive spike in Insulin.
• When you eat a heavy, carb-rich meal, your pancreas pumps out insulin to clear the glucose from your blood. Insulin also forces almost all amino acids (protein building blocks) out of your blood and into your muscles.
• But insulin leaves one specific amino acid behind in the bloodstream: Tryptophan.
• Because all the other competing amino acids are gone, Tryptophan has a totally clear path to cross the blood-brain barrier in massive quantities.
• The Sleep Cascade: Once inside the brain, Tryptophan is rapidly converted into Serotonin and then immediately converted into Melatonin (your primary sleep hormone).
• So what actually happened is that heavy meal turned your brain into a melatonin factory.
👉 Hi, I am Dr. Priyam. I break down complex medical science. FOLLOW ME for more clinical facts.
Despite the reputation, I don't think everyone needs to be carnivore. You don't have to bin the vegetables, torch the fruit bowl, and swear a blood oath to ribeye.
My position is calmer than the internet would have you believe. It comes down to three things.
One. Fatty animal foods belong at the centre of the human diet, as the keystone, the place the evolutionary record keeps quietly pointing to while we keep politely looking away. The guidelines shoved them into the corner of the plate, and that was the mistake.
Two. Plants are not automatically virtuous. Some are wonderful, some are fine, and some carry oxalates, lectins, and a long list of caveats nobody reads out while calling them clean. "Plant" was never a synonym for "harmless."
Three. Carnivore is a viable diet in its own right, short term and long term, for health and for the way you feel walking around inside your own body.
That's the whole manifesto. No commandments. No congregation. Animal fat restored to its rightful seat, plants judged honestly rather than worshipped, and one very good option put back on the table for whoever wants it.
Eat your veg if it suits you. I'd just like the steak to stop being treated like the problem.
The bizarre appearance of deep sea worms under an electron microscope
Despite their alien like appearance, these deep sea worms play an important role in recycling nutrients on the ocean floor
De boycot die faalde: het publiek gaf Nederland, Spanje en Ierland een les
Nederland, Spanje en Ierland wilden een politiek signaal afgeven door afstand te nemen van het Eurovisie Songfestival vanwege de deelname van Israël. Dat was hun goed recht. Wat minder prettig voor de voorstanders van die boycot is, is wat er vervolgens gebeurde.
Israël eindigde als tweede.
Sterker nog, volgens de cijfers van de EBU kwamen opvallend veel stemmen voor de Israëlische inzending juist uit landen die zich het hardst tegen de Israëlische deelname hadden gekeerd. Nederland, Spanje en Ierland stonden hoog op de lijst van landen waar vandaan veel stemmen werden uitgebracht.
Dat maakt één ding duidelijk. De bestuurders, omroepen en activisten spraken niet namens iedereen. Integendeel. Een groot deel van het publiek trok zijn eigen plan.
De ironie is bijna pijnlijk. Terwijl een kleine groep probeerde het Songfestival om te vormen tot een politiek strijdtoneel, deden miljoenen kijkers precies waarvoor het evenement ooit bedoeld was. Zij luisterden naar muziek, bekeken de optredens en stemden op hun favoriet.
Blijkbaar vonden veel Europeanen dat een zanger of zangeres niet verantwoordelijk is voor alle politieke beslissingen van een regering. Een gedachte die vroeger heel normaal was, maar tegenwoordig soms revolutionair lijkt.
De echte verliezer van deze affaire is niet Israël. De echte verliezer is het idee dat culturele evenementen steeds vaker worden gebruikt als politiek drukmiddel. Want als het publiek massaal de andere kant op stemt, blijkt hoe groot de kloof is tussen activistische bestuurders en gewone kijkers.
Ook de kijkcijfers vertellen een verhaal. Het Songfestival verloor miljoenen kijkers. Een deel daarvan kwam doordat landen afhaakten. Daarmee werd niet Israël geraakt, maar vooral het evenement zelf en de miljoenen muziekliefhebbers die opnieuw werden geconfronteerd met politieke ruzies waar zij niet om hadden gevraagd.
Misschien is het tijd dat Nederland, Spanje en Ierland een eenvoudige les trekken uit deze editie. Als miljoenen burgers blijven kijken, blijven stemmen en een Israëlische inzending naar de top stemmen, dan is de kans groot dat de boycot vooral een gesprek was tussen bestuurders, omroepen en activisten onderling.
Het publiek had allang iets anders besloten.
Wie dacht Israël een lesje te leren, kreeg zelf een les in democratie. Terwijl bestuurders een politiek statement maakten, maakten kijkers een democratisch statement. Zij stemden niet op basis van slogans, campagnes of politieke voorkeuren, maar op basis van muziek.
En dat is misschien wel de grootste ergernis voor de voorstanders van de boycot. Uiteindelijk bleek dat hun boodschap veel minder draagvlak had dan zij dachten.
Karma is a bitch.
https://t.co/O9iSHVklhc
His instincts to enter the water silently with no splashes are amazing, that is fundamental for Jaguars in the wild since they do a large part of their hunting in the water.
On This Day — June 5, 2004
While the world debated “resistance” and a “peace process” that Yasser Arafat had already rejected, Palestinian terror groups were systematically turning children into walking bombs.
On this day, IDF forces discovered and safely detonated two explosive belts hidden inside schoolbags.
This was not some one-time fluke — it was policy.
Just weeks later:
- July 3: 16-year-old Muataz Takhsin Karini was stopped with a 12 kg explosive belt.
- July 14: 17-year-old Ahmed Bushkar from Nablus was arrested before he could detonate.
Earlier that year, an 11-year-old boy was caught at a Nablus checkpoint carrying a bag packed with explosives, and a 14-year-old was stopped wearing a suicide vest loaded with nails and ball bearings designed to maximize civilian casualties.
They didn’t send these children against soldiers on the battlefield.
They sent them — brainwashed, strapped with death, and promised paradise — to blow up Jews at bus stops, cafés, markets, and checkpoints.
This is what “resistance” truly looked like: hiding murder in a child’s backpack.
An ideology that glorifies turning its own children into suicide bombers has already lost its soul — and any claim to moral legitimacy.
A Yorkshire pudding was originally called a dripping pudding because the batter was placed in a tin underneath the roast as it turned on the spit. Beef fat dripped down. The batter caught it. The result puffed enormous and crisp and was eaten first, with gravy, to take the edge off the appetite before the meat arrived.
That is no longer how anyone makes Yorkshire pudding.
Most modern recipes now reach for sunflower or rapeseed oil, because someone decided the fat that built the dish was dangerous. The pudding comes out flatter, paler, and sadder, and the physics tells you why: dripping smokes hot enough to shock the batter skyward, seed oil does not. We swapped the fat that works for the fat that was advertised at us, and the pudding has been collapsing ever since.
The recipe:
- Plain flour, 140g.
- Eggs, 4 large.
- Whole milk, 200ml.
- A pinch of salt.
Whisk smooth. Rest in the fridge overnight if you can be bothered.
Heat a muffin tin in the oven at 230C with a generous tablespoon of beef dripping in each well. Wait until the dripping is smoking.
Pour in the batter. Do not open the oven for 20 minutes.
They will rise like cathedrals.
Your grandmother knew this without a thermometer or a single word of food science. We have both and produce worse puddings. Use the dripping.
Anti-science theories have a built-in defense mechanism.
Show evidence?
“It’s fake.”
Show a study?
“Big Pharma paid for it.”
Show 100 studies?
“They bought them all.”
The goal isn’t to test a belief.
It’s to protect it.