Dr. M

Time is the currency of life

Please allow children to believe in Santa. You believe in magical internet money and no one is ruining that for you. #Bitcoin

No one knows how much effort some people put in just to seem ordinary. This does not only refer to those on the fringes of society, but also to those with a sharp conscience and a mind that is constantly working and who see the world differently from most people around them. These bright souls have to make an enormous effort to adapt to a reality that conflicts with their inner world. And therein lies the real suffering: in trying to come to terms with a world that does everything to put them in a framework that is acceptable to the masses.

On this day, November 12, 1976, it seemed like any other day. A car accident and a seemingly innocuous diagnosis: a right knee injury. Nothing serious—or so it seemed at the time. And yet, in the months that followed, the pain not only remained, but grew worse. Finally, the brutal, merciless truth arrived: osteosarcoma—a malignant bone tumor that can strike suddenly and take one's life. Terry Fox, then not yet twenty years old, found himself faced with a choice no one should have to make: the amputation of his right leg and its replacement with a mechanical prosthesis. Today we have modern solutions, but back then… even walking was a heroic effort. Let alone running. But Terry didn't give up. Three years later, on April 12, 1980, he decided to do something that seemed impossible: run across Canada from coast to coast. On foot. With one leg. The goal? To raise one dollar from every Canadian and donate it all to cancer research. Thus was born a race that made history: the “Marathon of Hope.” Every day he ran the marathon distance — 42 kilometers. Every day. He went through Newfoundland, Nova Scotia, Prince Edward Island, New Brunswick, Quebec, Ontario… It was an epic, inhuman challenge — no professional athlete had dared to repeat it. After 143 days and 5,373 kilometers, he had to stop. The cancer had attacked his lungs. He no longer had the strength, not because he lacked courage, but because his body refused to obey. It was September 1, 1980. By then, he had already raised $24 million. A little less than a year later, on June 28, 1981, he passed away. He didn’t even live to see his 23rd birthday. His marathon was completed a few years later by Steve Fonyo — also a cancer survivor, also with an amputated leg. In this way, the “Marathon of Hope” came to its symbolic end. I write these words with admiration and sadness. Today, hordes of teenagers (and not only them) flock to stores to buy T-shirts of overpaid athletes who are worshipped as gods for every goal, dunk or dribble. There are also those who abused the image and work of this young man for their own selfish purposes, but they should not be given much attention. There are champions. And there are heroes. There are sports legends. And there is the one who ran for hope. There are famous names. And then… there is TERRY FOX.

The fight against corruption 🤣 "The European Union will now require ID checks for every cash payment over €3,000, and for all crypto transactions, no matter how small. Even worse, cash payments above €10,000 are being outright banned. They call it “security.” Many call it the next step toward total financial surveillance. "

Just because it didn't work out doesn't mean you failed. You successfully fucked it up. GN

Have you ever wondered why birds fly in a V-shaped formation? For years, scientists have wondered why birds line up in this way. It turns out that nature has created an ingenious mechanism that allows them to fly huge distances without losing direction or wasting unnecessary energy. Each bird, flapping its wings, creates lift for the one flying immediately behind it. Thanks to this, the entire formation reaches speeds of up to 30–60% greater than each bird could do on its own. Air resistance becomes lower, and the effort is more evenly distributed. This is why birds can cover thousands of kilometers without resting. At the head flies a leader – usually the oldest and most experienced bird, who has flown the same route many times and knows the way. Its wing movements create strong air currents that make the flight easier for those flying behind it. The second bird helps the third, the third the fourth, and so on – until the end of the formation. The oldest, weakest or injured birds always take their place at the back of the formation, because there is the least air resistance. Then they can glide almost effortlessly on the air wave created by the birds in front of them. It is also interesting that birds flying in a V-formation can maintain a speed of up to 80 km/h throughout the entire migration route. But no leader could do it alone. That is why there are always several “commanders” in a formation. When the first one gets tired, it calmly descends to the end of the formation, and the next one takes his place. And so they take turns all the way — like a perfectly coordinated team. And another fascinating thing: that characteristic cry that we hear from the sky is mostly emitted by the birds flying behind. In this way, they cheer on the leaders, give them strength and motivate them to keep up the pace. It is their form of support and encouragement. If a bird tries to break away from the wedge and fly alone, it immediately feels enormous resistance and weight. That is why it quickly returns to the formation. Because in a group – it's always easier.

Christmas magic is in the air.

They just need to establish a court of appeal and that's it.

What is #communism?

I heard someone say a long time ago that life only gives us what we can handle. I'm not sure. And I don't understand how life knows that. And how those around us know that. I watch people around me breaking under the weight of life. People tired, discouraged, separated from everything. Giving up on their dreams. And nothing can bring them back into the game of life. Did they only get what they could handle? I'm not sure. Many times in school I failed an exam. I was given assignments that I didn't know how to face. Not only in school, but in life. I was at rock bottom and more than I should have been. And then I said to myself: I'll try again. I guess these blows taught me something. I realized one thing. Life doesn't always give us what we can handle. It often breaks us, destroys us, finishes us off. But it's up to us to put ourselves back together. Get up again. Dust ourselves off. And move forward. GM

What I encounter when I go to a fair in my hometown 🤣

Dear Nostr, who should I follow? Please add interesting nostriches in comments

First, we physically separated ourselves from other people through social networks, each one alone on their computer or phone. But we continued to communicate with others, even much more and in wider circles than before physically. And now, when we have had enough of conflicts on social networks, we are offered to float away, alone and physically separated, into "one-on-one" communication with AI chats, which will flatter us, so there will be no more of these hateful conflicts. With people. It will be possible to talk only to yourself for the rest of your life 🤔 Having people and a real social life will become something rare and extremely valuable. And we will begin to differ greatly in this - people who live in person and those who have completely withdrawn into communication with an approving machine - will become different species, who have difficulty communicating with each other. Chat people are not the ones who will survive this. It is incredible what profound social changes I have seen in these forty years 😞

They assigned him the number: 119104. But what they tried to kill most in him was what ultimately saved millions of lives. 1942. Vienna. Viktor Frankl was 37 years old. A distinguished psychiatrist, a promising career, a nearly finished manuscript, and his wife Tilly—whose laughter could fill an entire room. He had a visa for America. The door to freedom was open. But his elderly parents couldn't leave. He stayed. A few months later—the Nazis came. First Theresienstadt. Then Auschwitz. Then Dachau. The manuscript he had been working on for years was carefully sewn into the lining of his coat. It was taken from him within hours of his arrival. His work. His meaning. In ashes. They took his clothes. They shaved his head. They erased his name. Only the number 119104 remained on the paper. But the guards didn’t understand one thing: Everything can be taken from a person — except what they carry inside them. And Frankl knew something about the human spirit. Something that would save his life — and change psychology forever. He noticed a pattern: the prisoners didn’t die of hunger or disease. They died when they lost their reason to live. When a person lost their “why,” their body would give up within days. The doctors called it the disease of giving up. But those who had something to hold on to — the woman they wanted to find, the child they were expecting, the book they wanted to write, the promise they had to keep — managed to survive the unthinkable. Frankl decided to conduct an experiment. Not in a laboratory. But in a barracks. He would approach people on the verge of despair and whisper: “Who’s waiting for you?” “What task do you still have left?” “What would you tell your son to survive this day?” He could give them neither food nor freedom. But he gave them something that could not be taken away: a reason to wait for tomorrow. Someone remembered his daughter—he survived, to find her. Someone else—an unfinished theory—he survived, to write it. Frankl himself survived by rewriting his manuscript in his mind—page by page, paragraph by paragraph. April 1945—liberation. He weighed 37 pounds. His ribs were poking through his skin. Tilly—dead. His parents—dead. Brother—dead. Everything he loved-destroyed. He had every reason to give up. And yet—he sat down and began to write. Nine days. That was how long it took him to rewrite from memory the book that the Nazis had burned three years earlier. But now it had something the first one didn’t have: proof. Proof that his theory worked. He called it logotherapy—therapy through meaning. A simple but revolutionary thought: “He who has a why can bear almost any how.” The book was published. Publishers first rejected it: “Too dark.” “Who would want to read about the death camps?” And then — it spread around the world. Therapists cried, prisoners found hope. People after loss, illness, divorce—were discovering that suffering can have meaning. Over 16 million copies sold. Translated into 50 languages. One of the ten most influential books in American history. But real influence is not in the numbers. It is found in every man who, in the darkest night, reads his words and decides to stay — one more day. For Viktor Frankl proved that a man can be taken away from everything — freedom, family, hope, a future — but not how he responds to it. We cannot control what befalls us. But we can always choose what we do with it. Today, Viktor Frankl is gone. But his words still resonate in hospital rooms, prisons, and the silence of our hearts: “When we cannot change the situation, we must change ourselves.” “A man can be taken away from everything — except one thing: the freedom to choose his attitude toward what befalls him.” The Nazis gave him a number. History gave him immortality. The man who lost everything — discovered the one thing no one can take away from us — meaning. Prisoner 119104 didn’t just survive. He turned suffering into hope. And somewhere, today, someone standing over a precipice will read his words and decide — to endure another day. It is not just survival. It is victory over death itself.

James Watson, one of the most important scientists of the last century, died. Towards the end of his life, the woke mob stripped him of all formal titles and excluded him from polite society because he dared to casually mention that race and intelligence, with some exceptions, could be correlated. But they didn't manage to erase our memory or the fact that he was part of that duo, or maybe trio, who discovered the structure of DNA. The world still remembers him, while those 41% of the evil team that wanted to destroy him will not be remembered by anyone.

GM