A Little Something About Safe Care

The invention of the microscope in the sixteenth century heralded a new era of scientific discovery in Europe.  For the first time, people we would today call scientists began understanding the strange intricacies of the minute details of life.  Perhaps one of the most famous of these was a Dutchman by the name of Antonie van Leeuwenhoek.  Now Tony ran a draper shop, which is just a fancy way of saying he used to sell cloth for whatever one’s cloth needs might be.  Back then, pretty much everybody made their own clothes and other such shit, so being a draper could be a pretty lucrative gig.  Wanting to get a leg up on his competition, Tony began using microscopes to assess the quality of the fabrics he was buying.  Finding the whole idea of microscopes pretty cool, he soon after began looking at pretty much everything he could, designing better microscopes to see smaller and smaller details.  Eventually his microscopes got so good that he made a shocking discovery; his glass of water was chock full of tiny fucking animals.  Somewhat surprised by this turn of events, Tony began looking at other liquids to see if there was more to see.  Yeah, you can probably guess where this is going.

It’s probably best not to go into any of the grisly details of Tony’s scientific process, so let’s just leave it to the imagination.  Ahhhh fuck it.  The guy masturbated and then took a microscopic peak at what came out.  He was more than a little amazed to see millions of tiny tadpoles swimming around, a discovery that sparked decades of scientific debate.  Now at the time, many of the so called great thinkers of the day believed in ovism, a weird idea that babies, and all the babies that would ever be, existed fully formed in each of a woman’s eggs.  This belief stemmed from the discovery that women had eggs, a discovery made several decades earlier by a microscope owning man apparently much more charming than Tony.  The whole idea that men weren’t the center of the universe made many of the leading scientists of the day, who all just happened to be men, rather uncomfortable.  However, the discovery of sperm allowed them to develop a new theory, called spermism, which claimed that sperm were to babies what tadpoles were to frogs.  In the end, the theory of spermism won the day, mostly because women’s eggs just kind of laid there, while men’s sperm wiggled around and went out of its way to prove they were alive.

This turn of events brought up all sorts of uncomfortable questions.  For starters, if each sperm was a living baby, didn’t that mean it had a soul?  And if it did have a soul, was it ethical to go around literally rubbing away some 200 million souls at a time?  Second, and even more importantly, where the fuck did all of these sperm come from?  Had they existed since the beginning of time?  Was there a finite supply?  And if so, wasn’t going around wasting it just tiptoeing the ever growing human population towards extinction?  Now today all of these questions sound pretty stupid, but one has to remember, this was two centuries before people discovered cells and figured out how the whole thing actually works.  They were doing the best they could with the information they had.

These questions soon caught the attention of various religious types, who rather than condemn such scientific progress, as was their normal habit, instead fully embraced the new theories, probably because it fit in quite well with their existing belief system concerning having sex for any reason other than making babies.  The fact that they could also throw in masturbation to boot, a practice that had previously been seen as a pretty harmless past time, only sweetened the deal for those who loved nothing more than to condemn people willy nilly for silly reasons.  The prohibition on male masturbation soon after spread to female masturbation as well, because of course if those religious men couldn’t have any fun, why the hell should the ladies?

Eventually, in the early eighteenth century, a quack physician named Dr. Bekker capitalized on the hysteria over masturbation by writing a book claiming that what he called “self-pollution” caused all sorts of terrible ailments, which if taken too far, would eventually lead to death.  That’s right, there’s been asshats writing such books for centuries, and just like today, such books caused all sorts of stupid panics and ideas to run rampant through society.  Bekkers made a shit ton of money from his book, and even more from the anti-masturbation powder he also just so happened to sell, sparking a series of copycats who also wrote such books to make money over the next several centuries.  Eventually, masturbation became a weird combination of physical disease and mental mania, with even imagining sex becoming taboo since it would only tempt one to give in to masturbatory urges.  As time went on, crazier and harsher methods of preventing masturbation were introduced, such as applying leaches to one’s genitals.  As technology got better in the nineteenth century, leeches gave way to specially made corsets, which in turn gave way to special diets, electroshock treatment, and even castration and female circumcision in severe cases.

Of course, through all of this there were always people who called bullshit on the whole endeavor, but these ideas didn’t begin to dominate until the 1950’s, when scientific studies began to prove that not only was everybody masturbating, but that it also wasn’t killing anyone or even making them sick.  Masturbation was declared to be not a mental disorder in 1968, and doctors finally declared it a perfectly normal and healthy thing to do in 1972.  However, the topic remains controversial to this day, and even as late as 1994 the U.S. Surgeon General had to resign after suggesting children should be taught about it.

Image: https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:Preformation.GIF

The Stars Make You Crazy

Tycho Brahe is the father of modern astronomy.  His efforts and pedantically annoying insistence on making observations as accurate as possible cleared the way for the works of Galileo Galilei and Johannes Kepler, two men whose work sparked a scientific revolution which continues to this very day.  Of course, he was also crazy as shit.

Tycho was born to minor Danish nobles in the mid-sixteenth century.  Originally one of a set of twins, Tycho’s dear old dad made a deal with his childless brother whereas when the twins were born, one would be handed over to the brother to be raised as his own.  Unfortunately, things didn’t really go as planned after Tycho’s twin brother died soon after being born.  Suddenly not having a spare on hand, Tycho’s father reneged on the whole deal.  This didn’t sit well with Tycho’s still childless uncle, who after stewing in his anger for two years, simply went over and kidnapped his young nephew.  After the deed was done, everyone amazingly enough decided that they were pretty a-okay with this chain of events, which probably had something to do with Tycho’s mother recently giving birth to another child.  Tycho was raised by his uncle, which was pretty lucky for him given the fact that his uncle was rich as all get out.

Being the heir of a rich ass shit guy, Tycho attended the best of schools, eventually deciding to study astronomy after seeing a solar eclipse at the age of 14.  Tycho’s uncle wasn’t too down with the idea of a career in stargazing, especially since at the time most astronomy was used to make horoscopes.  However, Tycho got around this problem by attending university in Germany and lying about what he was studying.  This might have caused some problems later, but luckily Tycho’s uncle soon after died saving the King of Denmark, Frederick II, from drowning in a river while drunk.  Tycho inherited all of his uncle’s fortune, which he celebrated by getting into a sword duel with a fellow student over mathematical equations.  The duel didn’t go so well for Tycho in that his nose got cut off.  However, being rich as balls, he simply had a new one made out of brass and attached by glue.  Though this being the fifteenth century and all, the glue wasn’t that great so his nose kept falling off at inopportune times.

With his studies completed, Tycho returned to Denmark, built himself an observatory, and began making measurements of the movements of the heavenly bodies five times more accurate than the best available observations of the time using tools of his own design.  When not sciencing it up, Tycho kept himself busy by knocking up the local minister’s daughter, who he was not allowed to marry under Danish law because nobles were not allowed to marry commoners, though it was legally speaking totally cool to fuck and impregnate them.  Eventually, Tycho became well known in astronomy circles, which caught the attention of King Frederick II, who wanted Tycho to do his wife’s horoscope.  Though he wasn’t really a believer in astrology, Tycho agreed, probably because doing stuff for the king was never a bad idea.  It probably didn’t hurt that he started having an affair with the queen soon after.  After a few years of these shenanigans, the king gave Tycho an island to build a new observatory and rule as his very own, which is a pretty sweet deal given that most people who aren’t kings who fuck queens get their heads cut off.

Tycho built himself a pretty sweet ass observatory and castle on his new island, which included a torture chamber to deal with any of the locals who didn’t like his iron fisted and bronze nosed rule.  Tycho made his island a major center of astronomy, educating well over a hundred students there over the next several decades.  He as well dabbled in alchemy, trying to invent a cure-all medicine, as all learned men of the day did, and threw some pretty crazy parties.  To keep himself entertained, Tycho had a half mad dwarf named Jeppe who lived under his dining room table. For god only knows what reason Tycho was convinced Jeppe was psychic and clairvoyant.  Tycho also had a tamed 800 pound elk which would follow him around like a dog.  Unfortunately, at one particularly wild party, the elk died after getting drunk and falling down a flight of stairs.

Tycho’s good times couldn’t last forever.  When King Frederick II died, his son, Christian IV, proved less than generous.  For one thing, he wasn’t really a big believer in horoscopes, and for another, he probably wasn’t all that happy with Tycho for boning his mother.  Not liking the way the winds were blowing, Tycho fled Denmark and took up residence in Prague, where he became court astronomer for the Holy Roman Emperor Rudolf II.  Unfortunately for Tycho, in Prague it was customary to not leave the table before the king, which caused some difficulties given that Tycho drank like a fish and the king apparently had a bladder the size of a Buick.  After only a few years in Prague, Tycho died of a bladder infection brought on by holding his pee too long.  His assistant, Johannes Kepler, soon after stole all of his scientific notes and papers, and as they say, the rest is history.

Image: https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:Tycho_Brahe.JPG

The Farting Fuhrer

Few names bring up a sense of revulsion and disgust quite like the moniker Adolf Hitler.  Responsible for the most horrible war in history and a genocide that continues to reverberate to this day, he more than earned his place as one of history’s most inhuman monsters.  However, it cannot be overstated, no matter what terrible things Hitler did, he was still just a man.  Perhaps nothing supports this more than the case of Hitler’s farts.

From the time when he was a young man, Hitler suffered from gut issues which periodically wracked him with alternating crippling bouts of constipation, diarrhea, and uncontrollable farting.  To make matters worse, the flatulence was reported to be of the type that can only be described as room clearing.  As Hitler got older, his gut issues only got worse, a condition that was most likely related to the increasing stresses of his rising political career.  Not being the type of person who trusted doctors, Hitler mostly self-treated himself with various over the counter and quack treatments.  These attempts at self-care eventually culminated in him becoming a vegetarian, which had the positive side effect of reducing the stinkiness of the farts, but the negative of doubling the volume.  He often fled the room after meals to avoid embarrassment.  With his guts still wracked by terrible pain, Hitler finally gave in and decided that he needed to see a doctor.  As Fuhrer, he had access to the finest medical minds in Germany.  However, instead of using these doctors, Hitler went with the recommendation of his personal photographer, who couldn’t stop raving about some guy named Dr. Theodor Morell.

It’s probably easier to mention right out of the gate that Dr. Morell was most certainly a quack.  While the man did have a medical degree, his practice didn’t treat real illnesses, instead focusing on handing out supplements to Germany’s rich and famous to treat whatever psychosomatic bullshit they felt they had that week.  Being better with finances than medicine, Morell was also joint owner of a pharmaceutical company which produced bullshit medicine, the most popular of which was Mutaflor, a pill containing live bacteria cultured from the fecal matter of a simple Bulgarian peasant.  Dr. Morell treated Hitler with a handful of vitamins, Mutaflor, and something called Dr. Koester’s Anti-Gas Pills.  For whatever reason, the Fuhrer decided that this combination of random crap totally made him feel better, and as a result, he made Morell his personal physician.

The elevation of Dr. Morell was not popular amongst the Nazi inner circle, not just because he was a complete quack, but also because he had a habit of constantly belching and farting, not to mention the fact that the man pretty much never bathed.  As time went on, Morell began prescribing heavier and heavier doses of his magic pills to Hitler, who for his part, took even more figuring that if a little was great than a lot would probably be awesome.  While overdosing on any medication probably isn’t the best of ideas, in this case it most definitely wasn’t considering the fact that one of the ingredients of the anti-gas pills was strychnine.  Though not enough to seriously affect his health, the significant dosage likely did little to help a body already weakened by the stresses of starting a fricking war.  As Hitler’s ailments began to multiply, so too did the medications prescribed by Dr. Morell, which included injections of bull semen to help boost the Fuhrer’s flagging libido.  By the time Germany invaded the Soviet Union in 1941, it was estimated that Hitler was taking around 150 pills a week.

It shouldn’t really have to be pointed out that if you’re stressed out all the time and taking an insane amount of drugs, than you’re probably going to feel pretty god damn exhausted.  This was certainly true for Hitler, which is probably why Dr. Morell began injecting him with methamphetamine.  While originally just for the occasional boost, it quickly developed into Hitler getting at least 2 injections a day, which eventually turned into a 10 injection a day habit.  The size of the doses grew too, doubling again and again.  Things only got worse as the war dragged on.  The high doses of meth began causing insomnia, which left Hitler exhausted, which he in turn treated with more meth.  Eventually, Dr. Morell began having trouble finding fresh spots on Hitler’s arms to make injections.

Negative side effects began to appear fairly early on.  Hitler increasingly began cycling through episodes of euphoria, irritability, paranoia, and impulsiveness; all signs of a toxic meth addiction.  At times he would lose complete control of his emotions or become completely obsessed by some small mundane detail.  The constant meth use also damaged his cardiovascular system, resulting in several strokes.  Eventually, Hitler’s inner circle began to question his ability to make rational decisions, but by then it was too late, the Allies were already knocking on the door.  By the time Hitler went into his bunker in Berlin, he was reported to have the physical appearance and mental faculties of a very old man. He was only 56 years old.  Hitler never emerged from the bunker.  As Soviet troops flooded into the German capital, he shot himself.

Image: https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Bundesarchiv_Bild_101I-808-1238-05,_Berlin,_Reichstagssitzung,_Rede_Adolf_Hitler.jpg