Home > PJ > Onlooker

Return to PJ Online Home Page The Pharmaceutical Journal Vol 266 No 7143 p490
April 14, 2001

Onlooker

Warts on the run
Musak madness
Snubbing the past


Warts on the run

Warts are a self-limiting affliction for people who are not immunosuppressed. Viral warts eventually disappear spontaneously with time, although they may prove embarrassing while they last. Their vigorous treatment with chemical agents or sharp implements is best avoided if possible, since it may produce more disfigurement.

Not surprisingly, folklore is rich in strange and almost incredible suggestions for removing warts, and I have recently come across many reports of almost magical cures. Among the cures that show some degree of logic, there is rubbing with various plant and animal products. For example, the inner membrane of the broad bean pod is popular. Ideas differ on the ceremony to accompany or follow the application. The pod may be thrown away or buried (preferably under an ash tree) secretly, with or without an incantation. The same process may be performed with a stick of green elder. Potato slices, dandelion sap and juice pressed from spurges or celandines are also popular. Alternatively, the wart may be rubbed with raw meat which is then buried, so that the wart decays with it. A snail or slug may be applied, and then impaled on a thorn bush.

Among the preponderantly magical cures is saying a secret incantation over the wart and “buying” it by passing over a small coin. Or a number of knots, corresponding with the number of warts , is tied in a string, which is then thrown away.

Even more magical is the cure at a distance, where the charmer has never even seen the sufferer but relies upon a photograph or a glove to make contact. I have met several people who swear that such remote treatment has cured their warts.

My own advice is, if it convinces and seems to work, by all means try it. But never forget that warts are by their very nature self-disposing.

Back to Top


Musak madness

Muzak is defined, according to the Oxford Companion to Music (10th ed 1970) as “Programmes of background music supplied via telephone circuits for use in restaurants, industrial plants, and the like. In the United States muzak is said to be heard by some sixty million people daily”. Today, many people think it has grown to be a menace to peaceful living and to proper relaxation. So much so, indeed, that there is an organisation calling itself Pipedown, the campaign for freedom from piped music, based in Salisbury and boasting a list of patrons, 21 in number, representing prominent figures in the musical world.

In its first newsletter of this year the organisation has not only revealed its concern for discouraging out-of-place music, but has displayed a feeling for accuracy in wishing a happy new millennium “to those who prefer not to be wrong with the majority”. This distaste for mistaken majority rule is reflected in the fight for the right to silence. The new century, it is claimed, holds the threat of piped music over the heads of citizens wherever they may be. It is already “piped onto streets, beaches and parks in countries as disparate as France and the US. If people supinely accept this (purported) mood-conditioning, piped music will, in Julian Lloyd Webber's words, spread like 'an insidious cancer' ever further”. Yet there is no need for the world to degenerate into a brainwashed acoustic slum. The prospects are, however, bleak. Piped music, having taken decades to become established, may take years or even decades to roll back.

There are fears among concerned individuals that a younger generation, having grown up accustomed to piped music throughout the waking day, may have become addicted to it, and there are others who apparently find life without a background of noise insupportable. When competition arises, the volume of sound may increase, to a point where it poses the risk of premature deafness. Arguments have been made in favour of piped music in hospitals, dental and general practice surgeries. The undesirable aspect of it in such milieus seems to be receiving some attention, but large stores, including some pharmacies, appear to be wedded to piped music, which may irritate many customers and be inescapable for the suffering staff.

 

Back to Top


Snubbing the past

Fanaticism is a terribly destructive force, out of control and devoid of reason. When backed by political or military power it becomes doubly deadly.

It is not surprising that considerable anger has been aroused in the civilised world by the highhanded action of the Taliban rulers of Afghanistan in wantonly destroying two ancient rock carvings of the Buddha in that country, and possibly many more unrecorded acts of vandalism. No one who places any value on archaeological treasures can feel anything but disgust for such activity, whatever its motives. The Taliban argument is that representations of humans and other animals run counter to the teachings of Islam. This interpretation is, however, disputed by other Islamic authorities.

A commentary in Science for March 9 points out that the special contribution of Afghanistan to our archaeological heritage arises from its unique situation on one of the ancient highways of Asia. When Alexander passed that way about 325BC he left behind Greek artificers who built Greek-style statues and inscriptions, and at other times Chinese caravans traversed the area on the way west, and left traces of their passing, Buddhists came from India, and Islamic culture arrived from the west.

Accordingly, the museum in Kabul contains, or at least contained, exhibits from the first century showing Mediterranean, Chinese and Indian influences. This museum has been closed to visitors from the West for years, but is known to have sustained severe damage and an unknown degree of looting during all the regional disturbances of recent years. The safety of many non-Islamic, and even of some Islamic, relics is in doubt and has caused acute anxiety in some archaeologists.

To place such desecration in true perspective, we have to remember some unsalubrious episodes in our own history. Many valuable and irreplaceable books have been burnt in public in the West by fanatical authorities who held their matter to be treasonable, heretical or obscene. In recent times, fanatical earth-goddess worshippers have set fire to some of our prehistoric treasures such as menhirs, holed stones and entrance graves for no apparent reason but sheer mischief, or have applied crowbars or spades to ancient monuments which these critics considered to be faulty in design or orientation according to their own strange and misconceived ideas.

There is no influence quite so blinding and deafening as fanaticism in the mind of someone with destructive instincts. Indeed, I suspect that fanaticism is one form of insanity. We should do well to keep a close watch on any of its manifestations which come our way.

Back to Top



©The Pharmaceutical Journal