THE MATERIAL BELOW WAS WHAT I WAS LEISURELY WORKING ON UNTIL I GOT WHACKED WITH POISON GAS!!!!!!!! THIS BLOG IS ON HOLD UNTIL I GET SAVED.
This Special WordPress Blog is Under Construction, and is My Primary Writing Project for this Entire Week Until Its Scheduled Completion on May 9, 2014. I am going to Give This Material Quite a Bit of My Time This Week, because My Mother Deserves such from me for all that She Did For Me for so long.
When a baby is born, as I was once upon a time (September 17, 1952), they are conceived from a Man and a Women having what I politely term “Adult Fun”. This “Adult Fun” did not happen the same day that someone is born, nor did it happen the day before or even an entire month before. This “Adult Fun” did not happen even happen as much as six months before!
In us humans, the Average Gestation Period for a baby to grow from a sperm and and egg is about Nine Full Months.
Some babies take a little longer, and some take a little less time to grow from a single sperm cell swimming up the urethra of a woman and finding one of her egg cells in which to join. I was on the short side of the equation, the story of my life, it seems, only enjoying the warmth of my mother’s womb for about seven months or so.
Silicon Valley, the American Public, the American Mafia, the World in General and “Especially Myself”—> Owe My Mother Marion Grace Darman and My Father Arthur Patrick Darman their Deepest Gratitude, and their Most Heartfelt Thanks, for laying down naked next to each other one cold night in February 1952 in Columbus Ohio and having some very loving and tender Adult Fun with each other, both Screaming Out Loud “Oh My God! in the end.
This Heavenly Story From a Blog Titled “Fame Don’t Mean Beans To Me” Originally Published On March 28, 2011 While I was in a Bunker Apartment I had designed to Help To Prevent the Mafia From Killing Me When I was In Phoenix AZ from DEC to early April of 2011. My Reason For Leaving Phoenix Arizona was an Emergency One, for The Mafia Injected Poison Gas Into My Aparment From the Apartment Above Me By Ripping Up The Floor and Duct Taping A Poison Gas Apparatus such that they could Whack Me With It On The Night Of April 1st, 2nd and 4th. On the 3rd I foolishly left my Apartment To Try To Cash My Paper SSD Check, and was hunted and chased by the Mafia using cars and helicopters. I miraculously made it through the Night Of the 3rd by being Helped by a Hispanic Crew Painting A 2 or 3 Story Parking Garage.
I Smell Poison Gas as I write this, and I am sitting right next to my Room Door, which is Wide OPEN WITH A BREEZE BLOWING IN. WHAT THIS MEANS IS I CANNOT STAY IN MY ROOM TONIGHT, OR I WILL MOST ASSUREDLY BE DEAD AT OR AROUND THE VERY PROBLEMATIC 3 AM TO 6 AM TIMEFRAME WHEN THOSE TRYING TO KILL ME ***WILL BECOME VERY ACTIVE.*** <– THE TIME I WROTE THIS PARAGRAPH IS MAY 5TH @ 3:36 PM. AND THE *EVIDENCE WITH MY OWN EARS* IN COPY ABOVE WAS *THE PERSISTANT USE OF A DRILL*. THE HOLE GOT THROUGH, AND THE PISSED OFF KILLER JUST SPUN HIS PICKUP TRUCK OUT OF THE MOTEL PARKING LOT BECAUSE OF ***THE POWER OF THE INTERNET***
Everything below this is "a Mess that Is Under Construction". Regardless Some Very Worthy Material is Contained in it,
Incidentally, in the 1980's and early 1990's cutthroat single deck Pinochle with a three card kitty between my Mother, My Father and I was “an almost weekly event”.
All three of us greatly enjoyed playing Pinocle with each other.
It was "the highlight of our week", for all three of us. every one of us.
Over the years (and there were many of them), we played Pinochle for hundreds and hundred of hours against each other, my mother, my father, and I. All three of us were geniuses in multiple, albeit different, ways. By their admission… I was the best single deck pinochle player of the bunch, even regularly besting my mother, who was a Life Master at bridge, and one of the best bridge players in the country. Marion, your deep love for me saved me countless times in my life from age eleven (my bipolar onset) onward. I think of you every single day. Said tongue in cheek to my father while my mother listens in between Pinochle hands (she is the dealer)… Art, I BLAME YOU! for this jam I have got myself in. It is all your fault! lmao (laughing my ass off) My father was A Very Special Man. Just ask anyone that really knew him. We will all say the same kind of things about him. Art, I blame you (lol) because you drilled three things into me time, and time, and time again… both when I was a child and a young man. One was “Doctors spoon feed out knowledge a little at a time, and withhold the rest. They are NOT to be trusted at all.” Another was… “Think. You have a Good Brain. Your Good Brain Will Pull You Out Of Any Jam You May Get Yourself Into… If You Use It Wisely.” And the last was… “Money is nothing! It is only paper! A pile of money is only a pile of paper! Money is only a means to an end. It is worthless in and of itself.” Art, on all counts you were right “in spades”. How ironic! These three seeds of Truth my father taught me beginning in the sixties, during conversations around a round maple dining room table that my father himself had designed, toppled Big Pharma decades later. The World owes a Very Special Thank you to my Mother Marion Grace Darman and my Father Arthur Patrick Darman for sure! I look forward to seeing Art and Marion in heaven when the time comes. We are going to play some Pinochle again! Hoorah! I can’t wait to to tell them the story titled “They Messed With The Wrong Guy”… lmao while I tell it. It’s a story about the Stupidity of Big Pharma! We are going to Die Laughing! my mother,my father, and I. Some of us might wet our pants… lol… or need to go the the bathroom in a real hurry! The Story about the Stupidity of Big Pharma Is So Funny! It’s an Absolute Scream! My dearly beloved father Arthur died in 1996. He will forever reside in my heart. My dearly beloved mother passed away in 2005. She will forever reside in my heart too. Allen Darman http://nutrientscure.wordpress.com/ The above material was written at the end of March 2011 in Phoenix AZ a few days before the Mafia tried to kill me for four days in a row. Let us focus on the positive for the moment. I am going to proceed ASAP shooting Truth Bullets on the Internet once a day for the entire month of April. As I said before, these Truth Bullets are made “out of words”. There will not be a single day in April that my Nutrientscure WordPress site does not significantly improve in regard to its content (especially that of The Race Between The Public And Big Pharma blog). I will be not be posting much material to Yahoo Groups in April. Other than a “once or twice a month towards the end of the month” post(s) to Yahoo Groups, people will have to come to http://nutrientscure.wordpress.com/ if they are interested what I have to say. I have two new audiences for “bulk cross posting” of my written material now. Wall Street is one new audience of mine. Our elected officials (on both the State and Federal level) is the other. I wonder how long I will last this April posting the “Will The American Public Win The Race Against Big Pharma?” blog to Wall Street… lmao. (I have yet to lose my sense of humor. And I learned from God how to overcome all of my fears.) What follows is an excerpt from a Yahoo Group I recently made to help the reader understand my current frame of mind: “Don’t feel sorry for me. What I have learned has the power to help millions someday. I feel blessed to be where I am. I have NO regrets regardless of what may happen to me.” Big Pharma cannot win! Mark my words. The blog titled “Will The American Public Win The Race Against Big Pharma?” will bury them. And mark my words again. Its Preface completed and attached to it will “bury them again”. Some day history is probably going to say: “The Power Of Words… the the Power Of Truth… the Power Of YouTube, NaturalNewsTV, and the like… THE POWER OF THE INTERNET… and The Power Of One Smart Man that was willing to Work Hard For Over Sixteen Years to find a cure that did not exist before… that’s all it took to bring Big Pharma crashing down within a matter of months.” ************ I Place A High Value On Learning New Things, Things That Are Germane To My Goals And My Life. I Have Been Self-Educated My Entire Adult Life, And I Have Learned A Great Deal, Mostly Through Reading Books Before The Internet Was Invented, But Also By Reading Books After The Internet Was Invented As Well. I Have Read Many Thousands of Books In My Life, and “There is nothing like laying around all day on a Winter’s Day Reading a Good or Inspiring Book!”. My Dear Mother Marion Darman Fed Me Carefully Chosen Books On A Continual Basis in Both the Winter And Summer, and “I would read all day, and long into the Night As Well. As Much As I Have Read In My Life, I Could Not Hold A Candle To My Mother in this regard. She had a **Rare (in regard to its High Degree) Photographic Memory.** When We Went To Play Duplicate Bridge As Partners In The 1960′s when I was 14 Years Old (we Often Won), after it was over, perhaps 8 to 10 of us that had attended that week went to an ethnic German Restaurant named Kohler’s for their Great Burger’s and to Replay and Discuss the Interesting Hands. My Mother Would Functionally Diagram Hands on a Napkin For People with Uncanny and Nearly 100% Accuracy. She did not bother to waste her energy on the numbers of the Little Cards, so she would write D K J 9 x x for five Diamonds in someone’s hand, headed by the King, Jack and Nine. Mind You, we Played 18 to 24 boards each week. This means that my mother could REMEMBER OVER 1000 CARDS AS THEY WERE PLAYED. SHE WAS AN EXTRAORDINARY GENUIS, MY EYES ARE CRYING AS I WRITE THIS. Of her seven children, I was the Smartest. I don’t know how many times she pulled me aside, and Said “Allen, know that I am not Supposed to Say This To You, and I Love All of My Children Equally, But You are “My Smartie Pants”, meaning I was much Smarter than All Of the Rest. I Still Miss My Amazing Mother. She died in May 2005 and was a Rare Human Being, Just As My Father Art Was, albeit in Much Different Ways. I Do Not Have Single College Credit to my name other than what this Accounting Course awarded me for completing one semester back in the early 1980′s. My learning came out of the Public Library and books and web pages, none of which were formal course material.