I did not want to write a book about deadly statins. I do not like being a social pariah. I avoid controversy and debate. I have no desire to wade through tons of evidence to prove anything to anybody. I do not discuss politics or religion at social gatherings. I rarely extend a helping hand to anyone. It is too easy being rejected or have my intentions misunderstood.
We live in peace a long way from anywhere. We socialize a little but only with true and dear friends. Those are few.
I was completely satisfied that statins were deadly because when I quit them I felt better and with a few changes in diet, I healed nearly completely.
What on earth would provoke me to bring so much noise and disquiet to my and Hannah’s lives?
Hannah felt compelled and driven to write about it. I resisted either actively or passively. Gradually, I tried to encourage.
It was a deadly virus. It came in through my ears. It infected my mind. The first symptom was I started to question. Who developed them? Could it be that money was really that important to some? How did our trusted FDA approve them? It became an invasive detriment to my thinking about anything else.
Next, it infected my heart and the questions became both more personal and global. "Are there really people who would hurt me and millions of other human beings cavalierly?" I had long known about wars for territory, economics and ideology -- but mass destruction of a people for profit? Your own people? Did they know what they were doing?
Then my soul began to feel the effects. Did I have a responsibility to do anything? Where does responsibility leave off and ego begin? Could it be that I was wrong? Was there anything innocent that I was missing? What, just what, could I do? Would it make a difference?
The virus became systemic. I battled with it for 2 ½ years.
I had written for years for my own pleasure. A few short stories and recollections of the extraordinary people I had known. Sometimes I wrote observations of the world.
Once I had actually had something published -- a short piece of humor for a local newsletter that got picked up by a national magazine. There is nothing in me that imagines I can write. My love of great prose proves the contrary.
I wrote. I wrote some more. Hannah’s compulsion to get the warning out had overcome me.
She wrote the science and I wrote the history. Together we assembled the pieces that became “How Statin Drugs REALLY Lower Cholesterol and Kill You One Cell At a Time".
It bears no resemblance to anything I ever thought I might write -- what I had thought would be a novel or some philosophical treatise, but never the truth.
“Truth never lost ground to enquiry.” (William Penn; Compliments of Marjorie)
James B. Yoseph
We live in peace a long way from anywhere. We socialize a little but only with true and dear friends. Those are few.
I was completely satisfied that statins were deadly because when I quit them I felt better and with a few changes in diet, I healed nearly completely.
What on earth would provoke me to bring so much noise and disquiet to my and Hannah’s lives?
Hannah felt compelled and driven to write about it. I resisted either actively or passively. Gradually, I tried to encourage.
It was a deadly virus. It came in through my ears. It infected my mind. The first symptom was I started to question. Who developed them? Could it be that money was really that important to some? How did our trusted FDA approve them? It became an invasive detriment to my thinking about anything else.
Next, it infected my heart and the questions became both more personal and global. "Are there really people who would hurt me and millions of other human beings cavalierly?" I had long known about wars for territory, economics and ideology -- but mass destruction of a people for profit? Your own people? Did they know what they were doing?
Then my soul began to feel the effects. Did I have a responsibility to do anything? Where does responsibility leave off and ego begin? Could it be that I was wrong? Was there anything innocent that I was missing? What, just what, could I do? Would it make a difference?
The virus became systemic. I battled with it for 2 ½ years.
I had written for years for my own pleasure. A few short stories and recollections of the extraordinary people I had known. Sometimes I wrote observations of the world.
Once I had actually had something published -- a short piece of humor for a local newsletter that got picked up by a national magazine. There is nothing in me that imagines I can write. My love of great prose proves the contrary.
I wrote. I wrote some more. Hannah’s compulsion to get the warning out had overcome me.
She wrote the science and I wrote the history. Together we assembled the pieces that became “How Statin Drugs REALLY Lower Cholesterol and Kill You One Cell At a Time".
It bears no resemblance to anything I ever thought I might write -- what I had thought would be a novel or some philosophical treatise, but never the truth.
“Truth never lost ground to enquiry.” (William Penn; Compliments of Marjorie)
James B. Yoseph