Dr. Axe told me to Eat Dirt

Title: Eat Dirt
Author: Dr. Josh Axe
Date of Publication: March 29, 2016
Company: Harper Wave
Number of Pages: 352
Awards: #3 on Amazon.com for Medical Books on Digestive Organs, and #4 on Amazon.com for Medical Books on Gastroenterology

It's no secret that I've been unwell for a long time. When I was in my early twenties, I contracted a bacterial infection in my red blood cells. The only way to knock out this bacteria was with antibiotics, and because this was a "super disease" and kept morphing to resist the drugs it encountered, I ended up being on antibiotics for a long time. Six years long, in fact. And I did not take any probiotics to supplement my gut flora—because I didn't know I needed to!

You can probably imagine how frustrated I was when I finally tested negative for the bacteria, but still felt terrible. Cue tons of inflammation and suffering. For the past couple of years, I've been circling my solution. I've traced diet and sleep patterns, finding imbalances in my hormones, thyroid, and adrenals. And I decided at some point that I probably needed to heal my gut, but wasn't sure how to begin.

Dr. Josh Axe is a name you might have heard floating about on the internet or in functional health circles. He's sort of like Dr. Oz, I guess... But even more crunchy and holistic. Dr. Axe and Dr. Hyman (another important name in functional health), are really big on tracing traditionally un-cureable issues to gut health—even Aspergers and Diabetes. I watched Dr. Hyman's Broken Brain Docu-series when it aired earlier this year and found myself intrigued. The principles behind his method really made sense. To follow up on what I'd learned and make some cross-reference checks, I bought Dr. Axe's book Eat Dirt.

What I love about the Eat Dirt solution is that the reader never stops and says to themselves, "Okay, that was some neat-o information! Now what?" Axe literally lays out a protocol for patients, encouraging them to take control of their own health. There's even a quiz you can take to determine your gut type. It's a heck of a lot better than waiting for a bunch of pompous healthcare professionals pretend to listen to you, withhold treatments that might work, and then give you sleeping pills because your illness is "behavioral." (Yes, that happened to me. The complaint was urination frequency and dehydration. The actual answer was a Celiac's diagnosis.)

Another thing I love is that Axe does not eschew traditional medicine—as tempting as that is for all of us sometimes! He rather encourages the melding of methods both conventional and holistic, Western and Eastern, to bring about fulfillment and wellness in his patients' lives.

My biggest takeaway from this book is that most of us have been taught the wrong things regarding cleanliness and self-grooming since we were very young.

Killing 99.9% of germs by spraying down our homes with chemicals and antibacterial soap was the wrong call—sorry, Baby Boomers. Because when we drop an antibiotic bomb on our bodies, it kills foreign invaders, yes, but it kills the helpful civilians as well. Humans need active and healthy bacteria in our bodies. Without them, yeast, sugars, inflammation, and worse—drug resistant harmful bacteria are invited in for an extended stay. That's what happened to me.

I saw this clearly illustrated when I did a kitchen experiment this winter. I attempted to brew a Ginger Bug; a type of fermented drink. After just a few days, the liquid was fizzing and bubbling—active and healthy. One morning, I washed my hands before shredding some ginger to add to the mix... and everything died. The Bug went completely flat. I had used an antibacterial soap, and it had done exactly what it promised to. I tried to imagine what that would be like on a larger scale—and inside my body, and got totally freaked out.

Dr. Josh Axe's book Eat Dirt, even if readers don't necessarily agree with all of it, is a great read and might actually improve your quality of life.

I Feel Bad About My Neck

Title: I Feel Bad About My Neck
Author: Nora Ephron
Date of Publication: August 1, 2006
Company: Alfred A. Knopf
Number of Pages: 137
Awards: Book Sense Book of the Year for Adult Nonfiction (2007)

Ah, Nora Ephron. The queen of the romantic comedy. You've Got Mail. Sleepless in Seattle. When Harry Met Sally. And more recently, Julie & Julia. I'm not the quintessential "chick," that's for sure. I think when pressed, people say I'm interesting and intelligent and kind of dark. But even I am up for a bowl of popcorn, my sweats, and any of the above selections on a rainy October day.

Nora Ephron was technically writing scripts a little before my time. You've Got Mail came out in 1998, when I was twelve. But that didn't stop me from discovering it in my early twenties and watching the hell out of it. There's something timeless about her work; about her, I guess. And this is one of the things that attracted me to her book I Feel Bad About My Neck: And Other Thoughts on Being a Woman. That, and a recommendation from a dear friend.

Again, I'm a little young for this. But it was definitely compelling. I Feel Bad About My Neck is a collection of nonfiction essays written out of Ephron's experience as a consummate New Yorker in her mid-sixties. They are interesting, and honest, and, as we've come to expect of Nora, charming. I opted for the audiobook version, because she narrates it herself—a treat.
The topics of the essays vary. I came to find out that many of them were written for submission to different magazines, especially Oprah Winfrey's publication O. They fit together nicely, though.

Her essay Me and JFK: Now It Can Be Told is about the brief time she spent as a nominal clerk at the White House. This piece is hysterical. I was laughing out loud. And the last chapter, Considering the Alternative, is about growing older and sometimes losing friends. The author urges us to consider death before we think we need to, and offers thoughts on being left behind to grieve and what that feels like. This is personal, poignant, and beautiful work. Listening to Nora Ephron is a lot like listening to one of your friends. Or your mom. It's damn comforting, and I got used to it, and now the book is over. And I'm still thinking about death. I need more. So much more.

I have one beef with this book. Ephron's frank observations on the litany of creams she keeps in her bathroom, or her quest to find a cabbage strudel just like that one she had at that shop that one time are certainly entertaining. But I found there to be a disconnect here—perhaps generationally, and definitely monetarily.

She bemoans the fact, among others, that she has to wait forever for her toenails to dry after getting a pedicure at the shop. But I'm a millennial. I bemoan the fact that I will never have enough money to get a pedicure in the first place. Or to get my hair professionally dyed. Or to rent an 8-room apartment in New York. Much of her comic material, I am sorry to say, reeks of privilege. In trying to be relatable to the everywoman by confirming that life is hard and getting old sucks, she's outed herself as an elite New Yorker—and I think that younger generations reading her, at least for now, will respond with contempt.

Not withstanding, this is brave, good stuff. Listening to it was like eating a granola bar, but the good kind that's chewy and studded with chocolate chips. The warmth and familiarity of the author's literary voice is soothing. And it should be: I can quote some of her whole film scripts word-for-word. That's a high percentage of Nora Ephron in my brain, and I suspect you've got a lot, too.

Fans of classic fantasy should probably read Dune

Title: Dune
Author: Frank Herbert
Date of Publication: June 1, 1965
Company: Hodder and Stoughton
Number of Pages: 604
Awards: Hugo Award for Best Novel (1966), Nebula Award for Best Novel (1965), Seiun Award for Best Foreign Novel (1974)

I'm not sure how I, as a lover of science fiction and fantasy, arrived in my mid-thirties without having read Frank Herbert's Dune. Yes, I'm one of those people. If a book contains original maps, an important prop that happens to be a sword, or a locale with more than one moon, you can color me interested.

The first thing that struck me about this story was the timelessness of Herbert's voice. The narration is so clean that I was unable to detect any popular language to connote the inceptive time period. It could have been written in the '30's, or even this year. Some other writers that have made me feel this way are Robin Hobb, Connie Willis, Orson Scott Card, and Ayn Rand. Just—timeless. And also, lyrical? And unique. I get why this universe has become an institution.

And here also, as with the Ender series and the Fitz and the Fool series, we encounter the stock young man, a quintessential hero with untold potential. I need to point out though, that Ender, Fitz, and Dune's Paul aren't just leading man material; they are prodigies without awareness—uncanny in their intuition and understanding of humankind, well-equipped, and absolutely destined for greatness. When reading stories of this ilk, I am generally a tiny bit irritated, because of course Paul already knows how to use all of the foreign equipment he encounters. Of course he can tell if someone around him is lying. But in all cases, these characters themselves are so engaging that I agree to play along, completely invested in spite of myself. Of course, Paul Atreides is something of an aberration, having been trained exhaustively by those around him from a young age. He is more than a prodigy. He is a prophet-warrior destined for power.

Dune has been touted as a Sci-fi classic, and for quite a while, I couldn't ascertain why. Though the universe of the book is certainly advanced enough, most of the action takes place on land versus space. It's difficult to tell if the story occurs in a parallel past or a faraway future. There is evidence of planetary travel, certainly, and I originally thought that might be enough to clinch it. It wasn't until Leto, Kynes, Paul and the warrior Halleck embark on a jaunt through the dessert of Arrakis that Herbert's genius hit home for me.

The group is in a trawler of sorts, traveling over blistering sands. They can view the locale's mining operations from their vantage point, as well as identify dangers both potential and real; the infamous Worms, giant beasts that burrow in the desert. The miners, security detail, and anyone else happening to travel that day start radioing to each other about aberrations on the map, and relative location, and I was entranced. This is a space opera, I realized. But the action has been taken from the sky and is playing out in the sand.

The culture borrows heavily from ancient Greek history and mythos, especially concerning the names of the characters. Leto and Paul Atreides, for example, bear a surname that would generally denote them descendants of the Greek mythical figure Atreus, the King of Mycenae in Peloponnese.

The book takes itself seriously for sure. Herbert's story is rich with political intrigue. The inclusion, also, of quotes from Princess Iralan's future published works give Dune a slightly pompous feel. The world-building is palpable, replete with family trees and royal lineage and duels to the death. But an interesting phenomenon occurs when a deadly-serious high fantasy epic is loosed on the world; everyone else takes it seriously, too.

You might even get into fights with people who insist this is the greatest fantasy story of all time. I have found that those who love it stand staunchly by it.

I'll admit that I was annoyed at the time skips that take place in the story—often with no warning. A few months here, a few years there... and I kept thinking to myself, but I wanted to see that rather than hear about it in third person months later! These instances feel like missed opportunities.

The big villain of the piece is clearly the Baron Harkonnen. He's flawed and interesting, I suppose, but is barely able to graduate from twisting his mustache and rubbing his palms together. I dislike villains who aren't smart.

And speaking of dislike, I've got to add that Dune contains one of the characters I dislike most in all of my experience with literature; the Lady Jessica, the Bene Gesserit.

The protagonist's mother Jessica is covered in the story as one of the heroes. And she certainly undergoes change and challenges, and adapts beautifully and often painfully. She loves her partner, the Duke Leto Atreides, fiercely. She is intelligent. She is attractive. And I absolutely cannot stand her. Jessica raised her son Paul in the Bene Gesserit way from his infancy, which in its way is a loving act. But it can also been seen as manipulative, as Paul and eventually Jessica herself come to see. In addition to this, Jessica is strangely possessive of Paul, and suspicious and jealous of other women who cross his path. And finally, there's this gem from Page 312:

The troop grew still, listening as Paul's voice lifted in a sweet boy tenor with the baliset tinkling and strumming beneath it. 

This clear time of seeing embers—
A gold-bright sun's lost in first dusk. 
What frenzied senses, desp'rate musk 
Are consort of rememb'ring.

Jessica felt the verbal music in her breast—pagan and charged with sounds that made her suddenly and intensely aware of herself, feeling her own body and its needs. She listened with tense stillness. 

Night's pearl-censered requi-em... 
'Tis for us! 
What joys run then—
Bright in your eyes— 
What flower-spangled amores 
Pull at our hearts... What flower-spangled amores 
Fill our desires

And Jessica heard the after-stillness that hummed in the air with the last note. Why does my son sing a love-song to that girl-child? she asked herself. She felt an abrupt fear. She could sense life flowing around her and she had no grasp on its reins. Why did he choose that song? she wondered. The instincts are true sometimes. Why did he do this?

Right. We can all see the strange way Jessica feels threatened by a young girl living among the Fremen—this particular young girl is significant, by the way—but did you catch that other thing? That thing of the Lady Jessica becoming sexually aroused while listening to her son sing?

Perhaps it is Herbert's intention to make the reader dislike Jessica. I won't know until I get farther into the universe of the story. But I'll tell you what; in Dune as in real life, strange, Oedipal mother-son relationships seem to pop up just when you think life is bearable again. Bring me the big knife, Chrissy.


via GIPHY

Finally, the ending note of Dune is satisfactory story structure-wise, and very technically proficient. But it's also a tease. The end is very clearly a beginning, a prelude to many more stories. I knew there were a lot more Dune books in the universe, but wasn't sure how many. I Googled it and found this:



So, um—there's nineteen, I guess. If you're thinking about starting Dune, make sure to allow yourself plenty of time to process it. I can highly recommend the Audible recording with Scott Brick and including countless other fantastic voice actors. It's long, with heady exposition, and the complexity can make your eyes glaze over a bit.

Stick with it, though. This is an important story for Sci-fi and Fantasy lovers.

Pleased as punch to experience a '70s Dinner Party

Title: 70s Dinner Party
Author: Anna Pallai
Date of Publication: October 6, 2016

Company: Square Peg
Number of Pages: 176
Awards: #823 in Amazon.com Best Sellers Rank for Humor & Entertainment

I found Anna Pallai on Twitter before I knew about this book. If you’re a foodie, enjoy sarcasm, or find traditional gender roles just a bit on the ridiculous side, you should hop on over there now and follow @70s_party. Anna posts all sorts of delightful things, including abominations recipes from the good old days.

Anna’s book 70s Dinner Party was published in Fall of 2016. As soon as I found her Twitter account and noticed she had a book out, I bought it. It’s been an incredible conversation starter, perfect (ironically) for parties, which by definition are often crammed with awkward people who don’t know how to behave in public. If you’re equipped—and if you’re throwing a party, I hope you are—you’ll have some sort of pet about for these types of people to interact with. Or, you know, a copy of 70s Dinner Party. People love it. They sort of thumb through the pages and start giggling at the crazy photos and captions. Inevitably, they’ll show it to someone else—which breaks the ice. And the book has that gross factor; I mean, come on! Fish Whirls? that causes folks to screw up their faces in disgust but continue on in spite of themselves, chasing more culinary stimulation.

Maybe watching other people read this book is even more fun than reading it yourself.

Here are some of my favorite selections: Little Vegetable Towers, for one. These appear to be tricolored, striated blocks of chopped food stuffed into a rocks glass and then upended on a plate. The caption reads “I like my spinach, mushrooms and broccoli like I like my men. Boiled, puréed and in a tower.” Or, Salmon Pudding. Definitely a moulded, orangey, mousse-like thing studded with black olives and piped globs of mayonnaise.

My first time through, I didn’t read the Introduction and I wish I had. Pallai writes, “What weird is that, nowadays, most people’s dinner are far less interesting to look at—and yet they are far more likely to take photographs of them and force other people to look at them. There was a time when food was food. You cooked it, you moulded it, you let it set, and then you covered it with chopped boiled egg and olives. Then you just ate the lot and tried to put the whole horrible experience behind you.”

Before publishing 70s Dinner Party, Pallai worked as a publicist at Faber, managing the careers of comedians Harry Hill and Ricky Gervais, among others. She’s clearly got a killer sense of humor. The website It’s Nice That featured Pallai and her book in November of 2016, including an exclusive interview. She even shared her favorite recipe from the book.

“My favourite dish is the Cauliflower Surprise – a cauliflower which has had slits cut into it which are then filled with a Birds Eye beef burger, and then the whole thing is served on a cheese sauce. It looks like something from Close Encounters of the Third Kind. I’m also fond of the sandwich loaves which are ‘iced’ with green cream cheese and mayonnaise.”

Cauliflower Surprise, indeed.