For some reason – and, please, bear with me – the first thought to my mind is the famous poem by Martin Niemöller (1892-1984):
First they came for the Socialists, and I did not speak out—
Because I was not a Socialist.
Then they came for the Trade Unionists, and I did not speak out—
Because I was not a Trade Unionist.
Then they came for the Jews, and I did not speak out—
Because I was not a Jew.
Then they came for me—and there was no one left to speak for me.
So, what is the connection?
First, there were the celiacs – people who could not tolerate wheat because of the gluten it contains. They were the fringe of the movement, so to speak, and not many people who were not afflicted took the sufferings of the gluten-intolerant very serious.
But now, about twenty years later, it has become clear that most people do better without wheat in their diet – not least, because the book “Wheat Belly” by William Davis has opened the eyes to the damages grains can wreak in the body.
Wheat contains gluten, and for some people – the celiacs - this gluten acts like a poison, destroying first the gut, and then nearly every other organ: arthritis, depression, cancer, and so on are related to gluten intolerance.
But wheat – like every other grain or seed or nut – also contains lectins. The other name for lectins are “antinutrients” – which gives you the idea that they might not be healthy for you. They are not. Lectins inflame the intestines, similar like gluten does in celiacs – only less so. But in the long run, the wreak havoc anyway. Sometimes lectins are described as ripping little holes in the lining of the bowels, which is a bit of a simple explanation and not quite right, but good enough if you want to understand why lectins are not good for you.
Having a “leaky gut” as a consequence of gluten and lectins sets you up for many diseases – the most spectacular is obesity – hence the “wheat belly”.
Why are there lectins in grains and seeds and nuts? Because plants don’t want their next generation to perish – they want their seeds to grow into new plants. Like animals, plants don't want to be eaten. Lectins defend the seeds by making them harder to digest. “Our Daily Bread” has made it possible to populate the Earth (overpopulate!), but it has come with a price: Disease and misery.
Our original foods were greens and roots and fruit (in season only) and some nuts in the fall, and a rabbit or a mammoth, but at daily foraging grubs were more likely. Human ingeniousness discovered that one could sow and harvest the seeds of grasses. Selection made the tiny grass seeds bigger, and made agriculture and “progress” possible. In the last fifty years, we even drastically improved on the wheat plant: shortening the stalks (straw is unnecessary) and bulking up the kernel (mostly by increasing the gluten fraction) – our wheat is nothing what it was in medieval times or earlier. Not even like anything in the Fifties or Sixties! Spelt and kamut had much less gluten than our modern “improved” varieties. Spelt and kamut also caused less disease.
First, a few unlucky people suffered from gluten intolerance. Now it has become widespread. Surprised? No. But it reminded me of the Niemöller poem. Read More
Blog: On Health. On Writing. On Life. On Everything.
But When the Next War Looked Like All-Too-Certain
September 14, 2012
Last night, for reasons readily understood, I translated an old German poem of Erich Kästner’s into English; the poem was first published in 1932. Kästner is the author of the famous children’s book “Emil and the Detectives”. In German, the title of the poem is: Und als der nächste Krieg began.
Erich Kästner: But when the next War looked all-too-certain (1932)
But when the next War looked all-too-certain,
The women said: No way!
And locked in brother, husband, son
And took the keys away.
In every country, every town, they stormed
Each sergeant’s, major’s, off’cer’s home,
And chased the guys, and got them tight,
And beat them with a broom.
They gave a beating to everyone who
had ordered to break the peace:
The bankers, brokers, ministers,
Generals and military police.
A lot of brooms were shattered then
And many a blowhard finished and done.
So many men cried, so many men whined.
The War was over before begun.
All that accomplished, the women went home
To brother, husband, son,
And said there was no War.
The men looked hard not in their eyes
But rather to the floor.
[translated by Alexa Fleckenstein 2012] Read More
Beltane in the Woods
May 3, 2010
Enter the Circle, the holy ring,
Behold what the Goddess of Life will bring.
The Circle of Day—Moon and Sun,
The Circle of Year—summer, fall, winter, spring,
The Circle of Life—babe, maid, mother, crone,
Dust to dust. The circle forms a new beginning.
Prime of year, joy of flowers—
Mystery of spring—of thee we sing.
Hallow the forces of spring and creation,
Leave behind your wintry sedation.
Green wood inspires, friendship blooms,
Fruitfulness soars and health resumes.
Last Friday was Beltane – yes, the night when witches fly around on their brooms. We were driving up to Maine to open our cottage . The sun went under in a pale, pale pink horizon under a spring-blue sky, promising a beautiful next day. Night settled and the evening star, Venus, appeared - the “lovers’ star.” The moon had just peaked two nights ago. It was eerie and lovely.
No, I am not into witchcraft. But I work with the same herbs the people of old tried to understand. Nowadays, science helps me out: You wouldn't believe how much biochemistry is floating around at herbal conferences!
But the renewal in spring is as vital now as it was for the ancient. If Rachel Carson’s “Silent Spring” would come true, the whole human race would perish. (Don’t worry about Gaia, our Earth - she would survive, repeople herself with a hopefully more gentle, considerate race. If not that, at least the molds and lichens and bacteria would survive, and start the process of evolution all anew).
Beltane has special meaning for me because I am a gardener and herbalist, because I depend on healthy nature all around me – and because a Beltane celebration in the woods opens my “Sebastian” novel (the poem is taken from it).
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