This was the first indicator that something was tickling the foundations
of my temple. A hair mineral test revealed antimony way above the safe
level, uranium was also flashing red, and so were thallium and arsenic.
What with all that and castor oil used to detox this shit it’s no
wonder my arse feels like its on fire!
Antimony is toxic. Thallium is known as the poisoner’s poison due
to it being colourless, odourless, tasteless, slow acting, painful and
of course poisonous. The symptoms it causes are wide-ranging. Arsenic
and uranium are, well, arsenic and uranium. Hardly the excess of calcium
and iron one might hope for when getting ones levels tested.
Then came this from the pathology lab after they analysed my extracted,
swollen lymph gland in July...
Cancer. Non-Hodgkin’s follicular lymphoma. Blood cancer. And this,
perhaps the most significant finding in light of the fact that the quacks
seem to have no idea where all this cancer afflicting humanity comes from:
“In addition some black pigment is present within the lymph
node. The cause of this pigment is not certain but it might represent
black tattoo pigment.”
My ‘material’ was then referred to King’s College Hospital
for an expert opinion, which basically agreed:
“…black pigment seen suggesting
Curious, no? I think so, but at this point all scientific curiosity and
conventional medical investigation came to an abrupt end and I was essentially
sent home to die. No consultation about reversing my problem by removing
the cause or using the information gathered from my material to help others.
This is what they left me to conclude: It may well be the tattoo inks
that gave you an incurable form of blood cancer; we don’t really
care. But do pop back when you need something for the pain. They tell
me: “This type of lymphoma is not curable with treatment
but plenty of treatment is available…”
There’s that word again. Treatment. In other words we have
loads of utterly useless but very expensive pharmaceutical products for
you to see out your days but we can’t actually help you. Plenty!
And no, drinking carrot juice will not help you, silly. We haven’t
researched the subject of nutrition and health very much at all since
Hippocrates said it was a good idea, in fact much less than you, we just
know cos we are clever scientists and doctors and consultants who have
passed some tests and we have certificates on the wall and letters after
our names to prove it. See ya later.
Tattoo in lymph nodes, which are awash with cancerous cells. Coincidence?
We do love to think of everything as a coincidence but there comes a time
when it might be prudent to look deeper.
My mum knew this was an issue too, bless her! Probably not quite what
the real issue was but she knew the tattoos were a bad idea. She said
they spoiled the look of my beautiful arms but what do the old fogies
know; parents are so out of touch. They said no I said yes! They didn’t
always get it right of course and neither did I.
I had no reason to question the safety, the government wouldn’t
allow it if it were harmful, right? Opposite of the truth. Always! There
is no regulation of tattoo inks, not that government regulations make
anything safe. Not that I blame anyone else as it was my decision to have
them and since so many other people seemed to be doing ok and looking
cool with their tattoos it seemed like a good idea to me even if it took
some time to get the designs right, not that I ever really did. Covering
up my home drawn ‘Sue’ with a spider after we went our separate
ways and my home made Danger Mouse with an equally tacky stock design
from the tattoo shop should have been a sign I wasn’t meant to do
this but I’d started something I needed to finish.
When I found that the pain was manageable, even somehow enjoyable, that
one wasn’t enough, that the other arm needs to be balanced, I just
carried on. And then of course having just the lower arms decorated leaves
this area at the top looking bare. Before you know it or before I knew
it all six areas were covered - shoulders, biceps and forearms. At that
point I decided I was whole. However, while Danger Mouse had been buried,
I had helped to create a monster. I am happy with the design of most of
them but with hindsight I probably shouldn’t have bothered. That
said maybe there is a good reason why I did. I’m not big on coincidences.
I now lean to the view that there tend to be multiple factors involved
in creating cancer. The tattoos may well be one, a poor diet another,
or a virus and perhaps the cocktail of highly toxic metals in my mouth
and clogging my cells make up the critical combination. Maybe it was induced.
I speculate, and wander.
Alice’s Nan had a stroke in early May of 2013 and for the following
5 weeks we spent between her council flat and visiting her in the hospital
teasing her back to health. This was both very trying watching her struggle
and very rewarding when she responded. We lost the battle however due
in no small part to the glaring limitations of the treatment available.
She spent nearly three days without a drip, which didn’t help matters.
When I raised this with the duty doctor, without describing it as a terrible
omission for a ‘top’ hospital caring for a 90 year old stroke
victim, she became really defensive and tried to tell me it wasn’t
a problem and would be sorted out “later” and off she trotted
to some meeting. Later? She didn’t get to her meeting before we
had another chat, which was not so cordial. Without going into the details
of the ensuing exchange Gladys was given fluid much sooner than later
and she had half a chance. Anyway I wander again but mention this because
its part of this bizarre medical mystery tour we have been on and for
5 weeks were in a hospital surrounded by very poorly people, so my swollen
neck glands were easily explained away in my mind by a virus. A reasonable
conclusion but wishful thinking is not always enough. So far there appears
to be no sign of a virus. The drenching night sweats I’d had on
and off for some months were another indicator that something wasn’t
right. And then there was the weight loss. Alice had done some research
and she knew deep down what was likely going on and got me to see a doctor.
The doctor was on the ball and pretty hasty in her moves, so was the consultant
who booked an urgent trip to theatre for Keith. Only me in denial at this
stage and still hoping he meant I was going to see a movie. Any old shite
would have done!
Turns out I have some weird stuff floating around my body, some of which
can be explained by the tattoo’s, such as antimony and arsenic can
you believe. Yes they are in the ink mix and if you do some rooting for
yourself you will find a whole host of other nasties in the inks and carriers,
which really shouldn’t be injected into people.
Given the deep cleanse of the Gerson Therapy and its march to remove all
toxins from the body it becomes an imperative to have all those extremely
toxic amalgam fillings removed too or the body will have to go through
the task of pulling the mercury and all the other crap they are made of
through your system for disposal. That will of course take time and add
further burden and so it is advisable to force that issue at the dentist.
Of course this has to be done privately since the system still refuses
to accept what they have been doing to us for the last 100 years by fixing
mercury into children’s heads, mercury which must be by law treated
as dangerous, toxic material before it is inserted and as soon as it is
removed but not while it’s in there! These people are insane but
we allow them to get away with it. The mercury removal must also be performed
very carefully to avoid any ingestion of material or fumes and it must
be done slowly over many months.
I’m not entirely sure how to explain the thallium and uranium I
have floating around my temple, perhaps some kind of alchemical reaction
takes place when you mix up a big heap of crap insert it into an active
biological entity and let it ferment over time. Perhaps the nightmare
still pouring out of Fukushima or the other nuclear power plants and the
chemtrails they are spraying from planes across the world ‘to fight
global warming’ have something to do with it. And they want to build
more nuclear plants and spray more chemicals into the atmosphere to help
fighting global warming, which is now apparently causing the planet to
cool? They have yet to win any of the fights they start, be it against
cancer, street drugs, crime, ‘terror’ or whatever yet we are
allowing them to poison all life on this planet in a war against natural
phenomenon which is also causing dramatic weather effects on other planets
in our solar system.
You have to laugh or you might well become as insane as they are.
Who knows how I came by my collection of junk, but getting rid of it is
my priority and repairing the serious damage. Blood cancers tend to lean
more toward toxicity than deficiency but Gerson views the cause of disease
as due to a body deficient in the necessary fuel to prevent disease taking
hold so it a bit of both we need to encompass.
Unlike the nightmare many people have achieving a name for their illness
my diagnosis was efficiently and expertly discovered and confirmed within
a week. No hope of a virus, sadly. Blood cancer, sadly. Incurable they
call it, which is kinda weird since they can’t cure most cancer,
hence the insane amount of money raised in search of a cure and the rather
tragic body count while we wait. Anyway, being told to do nothing left
the door wide open for me to do something without the kind of conflict
patients tend to have when saying no thanks to the orthodox treatment
on offer. Enter Max Gerson, the magician whose work we had discovered
some time ago when researching the fascinating world of hidden knowledge
which the closed minded love to label as theoretical. Well, this theory
suppressed as it is and ridiculed is backed up with ample evidence and
sound logic and when you knuckle down and study how this whole thing came
to pass and what it represents you begin to grasp the fantastic magnitude
of the Gerson Therapy.
Let’s wander some more.
It was the first of April 1933. Shortly before dawn broad expanses of
field in lower Saxony vanished behind screens of billowing smoke from
the Berlin-Vienna express. The train had slipped out of the capital station
of the Third Reich at 02.24. It now approached the Czech border at 70mph.
Suddenly the train brakes shrieked, long and hideously.
“What the hell’s going on?” the customs guard
raised his hand to his holster. “Never stopped here before!”
As the train was brought to a halt in open countryside, the passengers
became aware that something was terribly amiss.
Amidst shouted commands, they could hear the sound of skidding rubber
tires, angry brakes
Motorcycles were racing everywhere, truck transports were being hastily
Then the door of the compartment was thrust violently open
Complete with smartly pressed brown shirt, soft overseas cap and leather
boots, a teenage SS storm trooper filled the doorway. “Passport
He took one step inside, straddled the isle and turned to the first person
on his left. “What’s your name?”
“Gerson, Dr. Max Gerson.” The stranger’s calm
tone lent him authority.
“Where are you going?”
The man looked straight into the youth’s opaque eyes, noticed the
still childish pout on his lips. “With my X-rays” he
added in a flash of intuition, his voice ringing clear. “I’m
a doctor, remember?”
Dr Gerson took from his briefcase a red envelope. Out of which he slipped
a stack of plates. Patiently began to illustrate and summarize. “You
see here? Notice this white area, the light stripe surrounding the immediate
lobe of the right lung. Do you know what this is? Water. Yes water! It
was filling his lungs and the patient was dying. Look, you can see here,
and here, those black spots. These are cavities in the lung tissue. She
was dying too. Tuburculosis. The last stage, eh? But Zondek and I found
a method. We found a way to save both their lungs, and the lungs of everyone
whose X-rays you see here, all of them, do you understand?”
He paused. “Have you heard of the great radiologist, Fleischner,
of Vienna?” He didn’t wait for an answer. “Well,
young man, I have an appointment to see him tomorrow, to have these plates
authenticated. That way our results will be decisively proven in Berlin.”
Dr Gerson looked up sharply, a sadness flickering in his eyes which might
have included a desperate irony. “Superiority of our German
techniques, don’t you agree? It can cure the incurable.”
Before the storm trooper could utter a single word, Max Gerson took a
visiting card from his wallet. “If you or your family ever need
help”, he said casually, “come and see me in Berlin”.
The youth was mesmerised. He carefully placed the card in the pocket of
his shirt, took a long, last look at strange passenger, whose face didn’t
conform in the least to the stereotypes branded by racism in his brain
and passed on to the next one.
“Name! Destination! Jewish?”
In the soft light of the spring morning the Jews were dragged from the
train and lined up, four deep.
Two months earlier on January 30 things had taken a terrible turn in Germany.
Gerson, a German Jew, with sharp instincts and a desire to help others
got wind of what was coming and had just made good his escape from his
country never to return. Those close to him, family and friends, who failed
to heed the warnings all perished.
For Max Gerson, and for me, this was a defining moment in time.
Dr. Max Gerson had already discovered a way to cure first his own crippling
migraine headaches then did the same for his patients’, then he
cured lupus, kidney disease, iffy blood pressure, asthma and allergies
all using fresh, organic nutrition. He’d found a pattern, a way
to cure all ills and the next big breakthrough came in 1929 when he cured
his first three advanced, ‘incurable’ cancer patients. Before
long everyone was out to get him, fellow doctors, so called specialists
and other left brain experts from the School of the Deeply Brainwashed,
but skilfully and fortuitously evading medical inquisitions and other
Nazis by 1946 Gerson was in front of the US Senate with ample live and
documentary proof that he knew exactly what he was doing. Influenced then
as now by powerful financial interests the Pepper-Neely Bill, Document
No 98471, which sought funding for research into the first proven cancer
cure in history was only defeated with the help of four senators who were
also medical doctors. Quacks.
And with that, another deeply significant moment in history, the future
direction of cancer funding would go to chemotherapy drug production and
other pharmaceutical interests’ rather than to the promising field
of research that Gerson had established. And the rest is history, albeit
not confined to as 50% of the human population is destined to get cancer
in the near future and most will die from that or the toxic, cancer causing
It need not be this way. We are on the verge of the most dramatic evolution
in modern human history and the time has come for so many things to change
but only if we want them to. Together we can achieve all that this great
man did and so much more. Max Gerson was found to be awash with arsenic
after his death in 1959. They may well have got him in the end but you
can’t kill consciousness. The truth doesn’t die off it spreads
Keith Mann Jan 2014 - firstname.lastname@example.org
have plagiarised the escape of Max Gerson from Dr Max by Giulliano Dego)
of the information in this page or related material is intended to propose
a cure or advice on curing cancer or any other disease. It is for information,
educational and discussion purposes and to support my own contention that
there is something in this for my own adventure in seeking to cure my
incurable cancer. Seeking the truth is nothing to fear and one day soon
I hope the same can be said of cancer.
Dusk 'til Dawn
An Insider's View of the Growth of the Animal Liberation Movement