Ozempic and the Seven Deady Sins

 This will not be an ad for Ozempic. Nor will it be a jeremiad against the drug. My cardiologist told me a story about GLP-1 and the gila monster. (Yes at a certain age, you suddenly have a "my cardiologist.” Mine is a grandfatherly story-spinner.) Three to four extensive meals in spring are claimed to supply a gila monster with enough energy for a whole season. Scientists wondered why, which is what scientists do. What they also do is investigate.

.What they found was a hormone in the venom of that gila monster that stimulates the production of insulin—similar to a hormone naturally produced by humans, with the jaw-breaking name of glucagon-like peptide-1, which is sensibly abbreviated to GLP-1, (and I’ll leave to you to wonder whether there’s such a thing as GLP-2 or GLP-3). At any rate, other scientists were able to synthesize this hormone and patent it, and then marketers were able to come up with ten thousand names for this wonder drug. I personally am prescribed with Monjauro, which I’m constantly confusing with a local Italian restaurant named Monjuni’s.

Conversation with a comic strip

“The sculpture is already complete within the marble block, before I start my work. It is already there, I just have to chisel away the superfluous material.”

--Michelangelo Buonarroti

I came across this comic strip the other night in my Memories feed on Facebook. It was originally posted by a friend nine years ago. I obviously didn't pay it much attention (and attention is today's coin of the realm), because I gave it a like, but didn't bother to comment.

Consider this reparation. This time I pulled up short and gave the strip careful consideration. What was different? You never step into the same stream twice and all that jazz. I'm late to the party (as usual) on this strip, which is from 2013, and I'm way late on its creator, who's been kicking it at the inkstand since 2001.

I've seen numerous strips by the same cartoonist, the monochromatic stick figures holding a four-panel conversations, more often than not with no attribution, thrown upon the world like orphans at the church door. His name is Tom Gauld. I googled him. He's a Scottish cartoonist, illustrator, and writer of graphic novels. (Is writer the right word? Composer? Creator? Confabulator?) If Schulz's preoccupation was preternaturally adult kids and Gary Larsen's was barnyard animals, Gauld's seems to be writers and books, which seems fitting in this age of meta (and of Meta).

But which is right, Gauld or Michelangelo? Is writing a process of decision, or discovery?

Whole Lotta Love

I remember particularly the first time I heard Led Zeppelin's Whole Lotta Love.

It must have been 8th grade--1970. I was with my best friend and his older brother, and his brother's friend, the cool kid who had taught us how to tie-dye tee shirts. (We would later learn how to stress jeans by tying bricks to them and dragging them behind a car;  since none of us had a car at the time, that was more of an aspirational thing.) 

This post is available as audio here on Substack.

The older brother's twin had bowed out. He was a contrarian, into country music at a time and an age when no one was into country music. Although, come to think of it, that whole family had a weakness for country music star Faron Young. Whether that was because he hailed from our hometown or because he was the spokesman for BC headache powders remains to this day a mystery. 

Lawsuits in Munchkinland

Harburg KS-

A new class-action suit filed on behalf of the residents of a small Midwestern town devastated by a killer tornado two years ago raises new questions of influence and accountability for mass media. The suit, filed by citizens of Harburg, Kansas pits the town against MGM Studios, makers of the 1939 classic The Wonderful Wizard of Oz.

(The audio version of this post is available here on Youtube.)

In Harm's Way

The plaintiffs claim that MGM "did lull residents into a false sense of security when the tornado was reported, and even encouraged them to remain in harm's way in anticipation of the thrill ride of their lives."

"We always knew the house would pitch if it got hit by a twister, and probably a few of the hinges would unhitch," said Ebenezer Gale, whose home was destroyed by the storm, "but we'd seen the 'Wizard of Oz' dozens of times over the years, so we figured we'd just fetch up on a rainbow and put down somewheres in Munchkin Land. You can't find a vacation that cheap on Priceline.com.”

"Sure we got a storm cellar," said Emily Gale, "Everybody's got a storm cellar, you old fool. But who wants to be cooped up there when you could be visiting the Emerald City gettin' one of them makeovers, and maybe meeting Glinda the Good Witch?" Mrs. Gale had both legs broken by flying debris, and is confined to a wheelchair at this time. “We also lost a cow and several chickens in the storm. Just disappeared. We figure the Munchkins have got ‘em. We want ‘em back. If that wizard wants to play hardball, the president has promised to serve ‘em with tariffs.We believe in only licking American lollipops, anyway.”