For boys, starting in 6th-grade, “moms need to decrease and dads need to increase.” Fathers need to take the lead on everything with their sons until they graduate high school. ~Liz Caddow, founder of Trinity Classical Academy and classical Christian educator of 25 years.
In 1935, two American doctors examined seven women's ovaries and saw small lumps. They called them cysts and named the disease after them. They were wrong. It took 91 years to fix.
What we called PCOS is now Polyendocrine Metabolic Ovarian Syndrome (PMOS), announced today in The Lancet by an international panel of doctors and patients. The renaming followed more than a decade of consensus work and 22,000 patient and clinician survey responses.
The lumps Stein and Leventhal saw were never cysts. Modern imaging shows they were follicles, the tiny sacs inside the ovary that grow and release an egg each month, frozen partway through by a hormonal imbalance. PMOS is a multi-system disorder centered in the endocrine system, the body's network of glands that produces hormones like insulin (controls blood sugar), cortisol (the stress hormone), and thyroid hormones (set the body's metabolism). The ovary trouble flows downstream from there.
The naming choice is not academic. When doctors hear "ovary" in a diagnosis, they look at the ovary. "Metabolic" and "endocrine" send them to the whole body.
PMOS affects roughly 1 in 8 women worldwide, more than 170 million people. The WHO estimates 70% have never been diagnosed. Among those who do, 1 in 3 wait more than 2 years, and nearly half see 3 or more doctors first. The CDC reports more than half of women with PMOS develop type 2 diabetes by age 40, a risk 5 to 10 times higher than women without the condition. Around 37% have clinically significant depression, compared with 14% in women without it. Anxiety runs at 42% versus 8.5%.
A label born from a 1935 look at seven ovaries is finally going away. The new diagnostic guidelines roll out fully in 2028. By then, a woman walking into a clinic with these symptoms should hear questions about her blood sugar and her mood alongside her cycle. Those are the parts of the disease the old name hid for 91 years.
The pharma-funded mainstream media has been touting a recent study of the Danish health registry—Andersson, et al.—which purports to show that aluminum-containing vaccines are not associated with neurological injuries including autism and Asperger's.
In the accompanying article, I inventory the long parade of statistical artifices that the industry-funded authors used to achieve their deceptive results.
Fierce criticism from the scientific community has now forced the authors to release their supplementary data, which shows calamitous evidence of harm.
These data are a devastating indictment of aluminum-containing vaccines directly contradicting the published study’s conclusions.
The data show a statistically significant 67% increased risk of Asperger’s syndrome per 1 mg increase in aluminum exposure among children born between 2007 and 2018.
Compared to the moderate exposure group, for every 10,000 children in the highest aluminum exposure cohort, there were: 9.7 more cases of neurodevelopmental disorder, 4.5 more cases of autistic disorder, and 8.7 more cases of the broader category of autism spectrum disorder.
By exposing these dangerous deceptions, @HHSGov is signaling a new era of gold standard science, obliterated taboos, and public honesty.
https://t.co/SAC4jTlw5C
I hold Lich, Barber and the rest of the truckers in high regard. In fact, they are heroes. How they've handled themselves throughout the trial has only reinforced this. Total class.
The convoy was the most effective expression of civil disobedience from Canadians in my lifetime. It was wildly successful. If I'm not mistaken, every province excluding BC lifted their mandates during/shortly after. It ousted O'Toole, who was a useless twit, and forced the CPC to once again stand for civil liberties. If nothing else, it pissed off the Ottawa white-collar laptop class (that alone is worth the effort imo)
Also, every so often I feel compelled to remind you that Trudeau could've just met with the convoy and, I suspect, the whole thing would've wrapped up tidily. Any reasonable person of any political stripes would agree that it's what leaders are *supposed* to do: listen to the legitimate concerns of the people, especially a subset of the public that was so broad and so wronged by the government.
You can reply with convoy hate, but it doesn't register with me and I won't have it. I'll just assume you're a stuck-up dumbass that despises working class Canadians.
FREEDOM CONVOY 2022
Never forget what the Freedom Convoy did for Canadians - and more broadly, for the world.
TOMORROW - WE ARE ALL UNITED ONCE AGAIN - FOR TAMARA AND CHRIS.
Cc: @LichTamara@ChrisBarber1975
The Day the Prince of Darkness Died
Ozzy Osbourne’s Final Appointment with Eternity
I was 16 the first time I heard “Mr. Crowley.”
The way it began…haunting organ, crashing guitar…grabbed me by the throat. I didn’t know what the lyrics meant. I didn’t care.
I was angry, curious, spiritually empty, and Ozzy Osbourne sounded like someone who had seen behind the curtain.
He felt untouchable.
Immortal.
A man who drank from the shadows and laughed.
But today, Ozzy died.
And I need to talk to you about that. Not about music. Not about controversy. Not even about Ozzy himself, really.
I need to talk to you about what happens when someone dies.
Because whatever else you believe about Ozzy, this is now true:
The man who called himself the Prince of Darkness has stepped into a kingdom he can no longer define.
I Was 42 When the Light Finally Found Me
I admired Ozzy long before I feared God. I wasn’t raised in church. I wasn’t hardened either. Just… unanchored. I floated through my teens and twenties chasing noise, like so many do. Music filled the void. Metal was a friend that never judged.
By the time I reached my early 40s, I had built a life, but not a soul. I was married. Employed. Civil. I could smile in public and curse in private. I knew how to hide the emptiness. What I didn’t know was how to heal it.
Then Jesus Christ found me.
He didn’t improve me.
He rescued me.
He came with the truth about life, and death, and judgment and I was smart enough, by sheer mercy, to bow.
So understand: I write this not as a critic of Ozzy, but as a man who once walked toward the same cliff.
What Happens When We Die
Ozzy’s death is not symbolic. His soul has separated from his body. His blood cooled. His lungs quit. But Ozzy didn’t disappear. He went somewhere.
And so will you.
You are not just biology. You’re not a collection of carbon, nerves, and brainwaves. You are soul and body, breath and clay. Death tears the two apart, but it doesn’t end you.
The Bible says it plainly: “It is appointed for man to die once, and after that comes judgment.”
Ozzy kept his appointment. You will too.
When you die, you will be awake. Aware. Unmistakably conscious. Not in some floating mist, but in a state of full, terrifying clarity.
You will either enter the presence of Christ or the horror of separation from Him.
And it will be immediate.
There is no purgatory.
No tunnel with a light.
No do-overs.
You will stand…spiritually, then one day bodily…in the place where your life’s choices carried you.
The Resurrection Is Not a Myth
There is a resurrection coming. One resurrection. All will rise. Some to joy. Some to shame.
Ozzy will rise. So will I. So will you.
Your body may be buried, burned, or lost at sea. It does not matter. The God who fashioned Adam from dust can call your atoms back with a word.
Scripture says our resurrection will be like the planting of a seed. The body you place in the ground is not the one that comes out. Just as a sunflower is not a carbon copy of the seed that birthed it, your resurrection body will be a glorified version, fit for eternity.
The believer will rise with a body like Christ’s. Immortal. Incorruptible. Built for worship.
The unbeliever will rise too with a body not to behold glory, but to endure judgment.
This is certainty.
When the Music Stops: Ozzy Osbourne’s Death and the Courtroom of Eternity
Every word you’ve spoken, every secret you’ve carried, every mask you’ve worn will be laid bare. Not before your therapist. Before your Creator.
The books will open.
And nothing will be missing.
You won’t get to defend yourself. You won’t be compared to someone worse. You won’t be able to lie or hide or charm your way out.
If you lived without Christ, you will die without Christ. And if you die without Christ, you will face the wrath of a holy God who offered you mercy and was ignored.
But if you are in Christ, if His blood has covered your guilt, if His name is written over your story…then the judgment will not break you. It will crown you.
Not because you lived well.
But because He died well.
Because your record has been swallowed up in His righteousness.
Eternity Will Be Your Forever Home
I don’t know if Ozzy Osbourne ever repented. I pray that he did. But I cannot speak for him. I can only say this: the lyrics he once sang are now irrelevant. Whatever jokes he made about hell, whatever symbols he wore, whatever darkness he flirted with…it is no longer stagecraft.
It is verdict.
And one day, it will be yours too.
Heaven is not a feeling. It is a place. A place where God is not just worshipped, but enjoyed.
Hell is not a metaphor. It is a prison. A place where mercy has ceased to be offered and every moment burns with regret.
Some will read this and roll their eyes. Others will scroll past and go back to their lives. But someone—maybe you—feels the weight. You know this is true.
You have pushed God off long enough. You have numbed yourself with distractions and convinced yourself that judgment is for other people. Not for you.
But you’re wrong.
The road ends. Every life ends. And only one name saves.
Ozzy’s Death Is Not About Ozzy
It’s about you.
The news of his death is not a tabloid event. It is a trumpet blast to the living.
The man who once stood on stage and howled at the moon is now silent. The crowd is gone. The lights are off.
And he is face to face with eternity.
So ask yourself: if the curtain fell tonight, would you be ready?
Do not play games with your soul.
Do not wait to become a better version of yourself.
Do not pretend that God is still deciding what to do with you.
He already has.
He sent His Son.
He opened the door.
And He promised…if you will repent and believe…you will be saved.
Not improved.
Not reformed.
Saved.
You will still die. But death will lose its power. It will become a doorway, not a sentence. And when the trumpet sounds, and your body rises, you will see Him—Christ—and He will not be your Judge.
He will be your Joy.
The Last Song
There are no encore performances in the afterlife.
When the music stops, the truth speaks. Not your truth. The truth.
The Son of God was crucified for sinners. That includes you. That included me.
I was 42 when I bowed the knee. Forty-two years of wandering and noise and pride. Forty-two years on the edge of hell, smiling like it wasn’t real.
But now I’m a pastor. A husband. A follower of Jesus. I live to preach the gospel I once ignored.
So believe me when I tell you: the only song worth singing is the one that ends with Christ on the throne.
And the only death worth dying is the one where you rise again.
If you have not done so, I highly recommend listening to @SenRonJohnson's hearing on vaccine injuries and how injured people are abandoned and discarded. Hearings like this only happen every 25 years.
SHOCKING. Global News revealed Liberal Vaccine Injury Program blew $35 million on consultant fees while a majority of the cases still aren't processed.
THEN: Liberals shutdown Conservative attempts to summon Health Committee about this.
What are they hiding?
@MBDan7 @HelenaKonanz@BurtonBaileyRD