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Not particularly down with the sickness

      

Liam Britten
editor in chief

he fall season is upon us, and unless
| you’ ve been living under a rock (or

worse, not reading this newspaper),
you are well aware that flu season is here too.
And all throughout the land, homes are filled
with the pleasures of this wonderful time; the
scent of hand sanitizers, the taste of medicines,
the sight of Kleenex tissues crumpled into
massive piles that sort of look like gooey white
Christmas trees. Aye, ‘tis the season, gentle
reader.

Despite my best efforts, flu season is upon
me too. I thought I was doing a pretty good
job of avoiding getting ill, but this week I’ve
been floored by a half-decent case of what I’m
assuming is either the flu or the bubonic plague.
And since the leeches and bloodletting aren’t
helping, I assume it can only be the flu.

For me, one of the worst parts of flu season
is that it brings out the amateur physician in
everyone. Everyone and their sick dog has a

cure-all for getting rid of a cold and no one, not .

even their sick dog, is afraid to give their two
cents about that cure.

Some pieces of advice make sense. Bed
rest? Sounds good to me. Plenty of fluids? Good
advice in just about any circumstance. But
I’ve heard some wellness tips in my day that
were real beauties and I’m sure some of them
are more likely to kill you than the evil spirits
causing your illness:

Witch hazel: I don’t know what witch hazel is,
and I sure as hell don’t want to know. I refuse
to be turned into a newt or whatever just to cure
my sniffles, and, hell, think of it from a legal
standpoint; in some places in the Deep South,
witchcraft is still illegal and it’s not like you
need to do a lot of convincing to get them eager
for an execution (I’m sure they’re even willing
to bring back burning at the stake for the “retro”
value).

Vicks Vaporub: this guy I met in a park told
me that if I let him rub me with this Vaporub
crap, my cold would go away. I haven’t been
the same since.

Vanilla ice cream: someone told me to eat

vanilla ice cream to soothe the pain of a sore
throat, and this one, surprisingly, works... too
well. Folks, ice cream is not meant to be eaten
to cure a sore throat; ice cream is only to be
used to cure the depression brought on by the
whole world being against you and no one on
the whole planet around to love you or feel your
pain, and let’s face it, you were totally there for
them when things got rough, like when David
and Lara broke up, and you were there for
both of them even though you were conflicted
because you had a thing for Lara and David’s
supposed to be your best friend, but where
are they now?! Where the hell are you now,
David?!
Which brings me to my point: using medicine
for a purpose it wasn’t intended for is drug
abuse, which is bad.
Smoking pot: believe it or not, I know some
people who swear by this cure. After all,
nothing like thick pot smoke and coughing a
whole bunch to get rid of a cold, right?
Gargle with cola: I was once told me that the
best way to cure a sore throat is to gargle and
spit cola, and I’ve gotta say, this one doesn’t
sound so farfetched. After all, besides type two
diabetes, obesity, fatty liver syndrome, leptin
resistance, heart burn and ulcers, what can't
high-fructose corn syrup cure?
Any sort of goddamn herbal crap: doesn’t
work. Please stop telling me that it will, you
damn hippies, because it is all useless. Only
harsh, tested-on-animals drugs really work
in any sense, yes, even though they were
manufactured by “the man.” I assure you, “the
man” and his “scientists” know more than your
holistic therapist about getting better.

These are my favourite quack cures for
a disease that causes me at least a week every
year of mild irritation. I’m sure you’ve heard
some good ones too, and if you know some
really good ones, write them down on a piece
of paper... and don’t send them in to The Other
Press. We’ve got enough bad advice as it is.

Your friend in high fidelity,
Liam Britten

Editor in chief

The Other Press