March 2nd, 2006

ozarque figure

Medical language; medical metaphors; filksong...

Battle Hymn of the Human Immune System
[Tune: "Battle Hymn of the Republic"]

Now, the key to health is slaughter -- it sounds crazy, but it's true!
Be grateful that your Killer Cells are watching over you!
They're marching through your body parts with brutal work to do --
'Cause slaughter is our metaphor for health!

Just remember: Health is slaughter!
Health is war and you're its border!
You're the mother of all battles and her daughter,
and slaughter is our metaphor for health!

Got bacteria in your kidneys? Is your throat all sore and red?
Got a fungus in your liver and a virus in your head?
Send a call out to your Killer Cells to come and shoot 'em dead,
'cause slaughter is our metaphor for health!

You thought you were a pacifist? I'm sorry -- that's not true.
There is ethnic cleaning going on nonstop inside of you.
When your cells spot something foreign they just beat it black and blue,
'cause slaughter is our metaphor for health!

Is there pollen in your nostrils, poison ivy on your hands?
Your mast cells will rush in with bombs in small marauding bands!
They're all in constant contact with your brain and its commands,
'cause slaughter is our metaphor for health!

There's something lurking in you -- there is something you could page;
it eats up all the corpses from the battles that you wage!
Its mission is to scavenge and its name is macrophage,
and slaughter is our metaphor for health!

You breed warriors in your marrow for your body's battlefields;
you train them in your thymus gland to be your body's shields.
Your neutrophils do suicides from your head down to your heels,
'cause slaughter is our metaphor for health!

Well, why we chose this image is a major mystery;
why fill ourselves with guns and tanks and field artillery?
We could have just had Gardener Cells out weeding you and me ......
But slaughter is our metaphor for health!
ozarque figure

Personal note....

I'm not going to be able to post tomorrow -- I've got a foot-high stack of All The Things I Hate To Do. Snailmail to answer. Forms to fill out and return. Bills to pay. Accounts to enter and balance. Insurance thingies and tax thingies and SFWA thingies. Filing. Horrible.

My fault for letting it pile up while I was be-flued. Reaping what I sowed, you perceive.

I'm also way behind in answering your comments; whenever I can't stand even one more clerical or accounting task tomorrow, I'll take a break and do that till I get a second wind.