Chickenpox vs Shingles

Dr Suzanne Humphries On Joe Rogan

There’s a hidden truth beneath the story of the chickenpox and shingles vaccines that no vaccine “expert” will ever tell you.

Dr. Suzanne Humphries: “In the old days, we would all get chickenpox.”

It was never a big deal.

Then came the vaccine.

By preventing chickenpox in kids, it created more of a much worse disease.

Dr. Humphries: “Chickenpox, we used to get continuously.”

“It was very rare for adults to get shingles before the chickenpox vaccine came out, extremely rare.”

“But since then, the rate of shingles in adults and children has skyrocketed.”

Why?

Because adults who were exposed to children with chickenpox received a natural immune boost that kept shingles in check.

There’s further evidence that childhood chickenpox prevented other future illnesses, including cancer.

Scientists knew that licensing a chickenpox vaccine carried significant risks of worsening other diseases.

Before it came out, one of the world’s leading varicella experts also noted that chickenpox was long considered too mild to justify a vaccine.

Big Pharma was well aware of all these concerns.

But they marched ahead with the chickenpox vaccine anyway.

As a result, they’ve reduced a disease that was never even a problem, and worsened other, far more serious, illnesses.

These are the kinds of things that you’ll never hear from vaccine “experts,” pharmaceutical companies, or the media.

Which is why we launched Shot Week.

This week, we have gone through and exposed the lies used to justify Big Pharma’s vaccines, from measles shots to mRNA Covid shots.

But the full web of lies that has been spun to justify vaccines is far too much to unravel in a few posts on X.

So we’re promoting one book that breaks down the entire decades-long propaganda and censorship campaign.

This book is a must-read for every new parent.

Click to view the video:  https://x.com/standforhealth1/status/2088676693972017511?s=20

From Conspiracy Theory To Establishment Fact

Spike Protein Induces MS

The World Health Organization now states on its website:

“The COVID-19 vaccination can cause multiple sclerosis due to cross-reactive CD4+-T cells that recognize the spike protein of SARS-CoV-2 and myelin peptides.”

In other words: your own immune system destroys the nerve pathways and then attacks your brain and spinal cord.

This data was available during the lockdowns, but was labeled as “conspiracy theory” and censored by social media.

Click to view the video: https://x.com/JoeTippensl/status/2088933628684255507?s=20

(Tom: Every week I see another piece of data that confirms my opinion that every single person should be doing something constructive to remove the spike protein from their body. Dr Peter McCullough has a protocol available at the Wellness Company. I have two products to address covid jam harm at https://www.healthelicious.com.au/NutriBlast-Anti-Spike.html and https://www.healthelicious.com.au/NutriBlast_DNA_Heart_Mitochondria.html)

Slash 20 Years From Your Heart Age

Slash 20 Years From Your Heart Age

Two years of aerobic exercise made the hearts of out-of-shape 50-year-olds behave like hearts up to 20 years younger.

Researchers randomized 61 sedentary adults, average age 53, to two years of real training or gentle yoga, then measured heart stiffness the hard way: a catheter threaded straight into the heart. The trained group’s fitness rose 18% and the main chamber went from stiff to elastic, taking in more blood at lower pressure.

“20 years younger” describes the size of the stiffness improvement, not a literal age, but the effect was real. The heart stiffening long blamed on age is partly the cost of sitting, and in middle age it’s still reversible.

https://x.com/WilliamWallace/status/2079534876114506163?s=20

Jeffrey Tucker and Dr. Jessica Rose

The Brownstone Institute post highlights a clip from Jeffrey Tucker and Dr. Jessica Rose discussing sharp rises in aggressive cancers observed since 2021, with Tucker linking industry concerns to a peer-reviewed paper identifying early signals of vaccine-related risks.
(Tom: After losing my wife Julie to Glioblastoma last December I am of the opinion that ‘running on automatic’ in the present environment is just waiting to be hit by a freight train barreling towards one at full speed.
It is time to ‘come off automatic’ and take a serious, dedicated look at the sort of life you wish to live and for how long you want to live it.
Again, just my opinion and dismiss it as such if you want, but I consider that the optimum course of action for anyone wanting to live a full and healthy life is to deliberately and vigorously pursue an optimal wellness strategy as a if not the major priority in life.
In my book http://www.howtolivethehealthiestlife.com I detail 28 factors that improve your chances of living a healthy life to the end.
The three things that come instantly to mind when reading this meme are:
1. Minimise exposure to WiFi and other EMF sources (WEiFi exposure strongly linked to Glioblastomas),
2. Detox the Spike Protein from the body (researchers have identified at least three different mechanisms by which the Spike Protein lowers the ability of the body to defeat cancer),
3. Adopt an anti-cancer diet/lifestyle combination to support the body’s natural healing processes (18/6 Intermittent Fasting and HIIT (High Intensity Interval Training) are two top tips here.)

 

Jeffrey Tucker and Dr. Jessica Rose

Alan Rickman

Alan Rickman

Alan Rickman once refused to say one of the most famous lines in Die Hard — because he thought it was stupid. Then he rewrote it himself, and it became one of the greatest villain moments in film history.

The line was simple: “Shoot the glass.”

The scene: Hans Gruber, cold and calculating, commanding his henchmen to fire at Bruce Willis’s bare feet. Rickman read it, frowned, and told the director, “No one that intelligent would bark orders like a fool.” He rewrote it in his slow, venomous cadence, turning it into a whisper, each syllable dipped in ice. “Schoot… ze glass.” The crew froze. Even Bruce Willis broke character. The moment was pure menace — improvised elegance that transformed the entire tone of the film.

That was Rickman. He didn’t just play villains — he reengineered them.

But the story gets better. Die Hard was his first film — ever. He was 41, a theater actor who’d never stood in front of a camera. On his very first day of shooting, they told him he’d be dropped 40 feet onto an airbag for the finale. He thought it was a joke. It wasn’t. The director promised they’d count to three before releasing him. They dropped him on one. The look of shock on his face in that scene — eyes wide, arms flailing — was real. “That’s not acting,” he later laughed. “That’s betrayal.”

And yet, it made cinematic history.

Behind that poise and voice like honey over steel was a man who distrusted fame and loved rebellion in small, devastating doses. He turned down blockbusters to do indie films and poetry readings. He co-directed theater productions for no pay. When Warner Bros. asked him to make Snape more “sympathetic” in Harry Potter, he refused. “You’ll understand him when the time comes,” he said. No one — not even the directors — knew that J.K. Rowling had secretly told him Snape’s true ending. He guarded that secret for a decade, playing every glare and pause like a man living two lives.

The most intimate, scandalous truth came out after his death. Rickman had kept journals for 25 years — over 25 volumes of his thoughts, frustrations, and tenderness. In them, he wrote about his doubts, his quiet fury at the industry, and his total devotion to his partner, Rima Horton. “She has been my compass,” one entry read. “All love songs, in the end, are about her.”

He also confessed that he almost quit Harry Potter after the second film, furious at studio meddling. “It’s as if they don’t understand what I’m doing,” he wrote. Rowling called him personally, begged him to stay, and reminded him of Snape’s purpose. He stayed — for the children, for the story, for the art.

Rickman had the face of a villain and the heart of a poet. When he died, Emma Thompson — his closest friend — said, “Alan was incapable of small talk. He’d go straight to the soul of things.”

The man who taught us to fear silence was also the one who made it holy.

Alan Rickman didn’t just perform — he conspired with the audience. Every smirk, every pause, every drawling insult was his secret way of saying: You think you know evil, but I’m about to show you something far more interesting — humanity, in disguise.

Victor Borge

Victor Borge

Victor Borge made jokes about Hitler when Hitler could have had him arrested for them. Then the Nazis invaded Denmark, and the Jewish comedian escaped Europe on the last neutral American ship out of northern Scandinavia—with about $20 and almost no English.
Five years later, millions of Americans were laughing at him.
That sounds like the setup to one of Borge’s routines.
It wasn’t.
Before America knew the impeccably dressed man sitting at a grand piano, deliberately destroying classical music with terrible timing, fake mistakes and perfectly controlled interruptions, Borge had already learned that a joke could carry consequences far beyond laughter.
His real name was Børge Rosenbaum.
He was born in Copenhagen in 1909 into a musical Jewish family. His father, Bernhard, was a violinist; his mother, Frederikke, was a pianist.
Børge’s talent appeared almost immediately.
He began learning piano as a small child, received serious classical training and eventually studied at the Royal Danish Academy of Music.
He could have remained a conventional concert pianist.
There was one problem.
He was funny.
Borge discovered that audiences responded when he interrupted the solemnity surrounding classical music.
A mistake could become a joke.
A pause could become a joke.
Even preparing to play could become funnier than actually playing.
By the 1930s, he had begun combining serious musicianship with comedy and became one of Scandinavia’s popular entertainers.
Then Europe became dangerous.
Adolf Hitler was in power.
Nazi Germany was expanding.
And Borge was Jewish.
He could have kept politics out of the act.
Instead, he mocked the Nazis.
One of his most pointed jokes came after Denmark and Germany signed a non-aggression pact in 1939. Borge sarcastically suggested the Germans could now sleep safely without worrying about being attacked by the Danish army.
It was funny because the idea was absurd.
Denmark posed no serious military threat to Hitler’s Germany.
But dictatorships are rarely famous for appreciating satire.
Danish Nazis noticed Borge.
Threats followed.
And then the joke became terrifyingly real.
On April 9, 1940, German forces invaded Denmark.
Borge happened to be outside the country, performing in Sweden.
That accident of geography may have saved him.
He did not return home.
He moved toward Finland instead, trying to get out of Europe with his American-born wife, Elsie.
The escape route was narrowing.
Much of Europe was already at war.
Ports were closing.
Refugees were desperately searching for passage.
Then Borge and Elsie secured places aboard the USS *American Legion* at Petsamo in northern Finland.
The ship sailed on August 16, 1940.
There were hundreds of passengers aboard.
And the *American Legion* carried something besides refugees.
Hidden among its important cargo was a Bofors 40-millimeter antiaircraft gun that American authorities wanted brought to the United States for evaluation.
The ship carrying the Jewish comedian fleeing Hitler was also carrying a weapon whose design would eventually become enormously important to American naval defenses during the war.
Then the route closed.
The *American Legion* became the last neutral ship permitted to leave Petsamo.
Twelve days later, it reached New York.
Borge arrived on August 28, 1940.
He had roughly $20.
And the comedian had another serious problem.
His jokes were almost useless.
He couldn’t speak English.
Comedy is difficult enough in your own language.
Borge had built an entire career around timing, wordplay and communication with an audience.
Now he was in a country where he could barely communicate at all.
The famous Danish entertainer had become an unknown immigrant.
So he began again.
Borge later described learning English partly by watching movies.
He studied how Americans spoke.
He adapted his material.
He changed Børge Rosenbaum into the easier American stage name Victor Borge.
And remarkably quickly, the man who had arrived unable to perform his established act in English was doing exactly that.
Radio opened the door.
Borge appeared with Rudy Vallée and then joined Bing Crosby’s *Kraft Music Hall*.
American listeners began discovering something difficult to categorize.
Was he a concert pianist?
Yes.
Was he a comedian?
Absolutely.
Was the piano part of the joke?
Usually.
Was the joke sometimes an excuse to demonstrate that he could actually play extraordinarily well?
Also yes.
By 1942, Borge was being recognized as an outstanding new radio performer.
The refugee had been in America for roughly two years.
Now America knew his voice.
Then television arrived.
Borge was almost designed for it.
One of his famous routines was “Phonetic Punctuation.”
Instead of merely reading punctuation marks, he gave them ridiculous sounds.
Periods.
Commas.
Question marks.
Exclamation points.
A normal piece of speech could become completely deranged once Borge began “pronouncing” the punctuation.
Another routine involved his repeated inability to simply sit down and perform a piece of classical music normally.
He would announce something.
Become distracted.
Talk to the audience.
Misunderstand the music.
Restart.
Interrupt himself.
The audience waited for the piano.
Borge made the waiting funny.
And beneath all of it was a crucial fact.
He was not pretending to be a pianist.
He was one.
That was why the comedy worked.
Borge knew exactly what the music was supposed to sound like before he dismantled it.
Then he took the idea to Broadway.
In 1953, Borge opened his one-man production *Comedy in Music*.
A comedian alone on Broadway is exposed.
A bad evening cannot be blamed on an ensemble.
Borge carried it.
Again.
And again.
And again.
The production eventually ran 849 performances, establishing a record for a one-man show.
The man who had arrived in America unable to speak English had now built one of Broadway’s extraordinary solo successes around his ability to communicate with an English-speaking audience.
And there was another irony.
Hitler had forced Borge out of Europe.
The exile helped make Victor Borge an international star.
Borge himself later acknowledged that without Hitler, his career might have followed an entirely different path.
But he did not forget why he had escaped.
During the Nazi occupation, Denmark became the scene of one of World War II’s remarkable rescue efforts.
In 1943, when German authorities moved to deport Danish Jews, Danish citizens helped thousands escape across the water to neutral Sweden.
Borge later helped establish Thanks to Scandinavia, an effort honoring Scandinavians who helped save Jews during the Holocaust.
The comedian who had escaped now helped remember those who made escape possible for others.
America became home.
Borge became a U.S. citizen in 1948.
But Denmark never disappeared.
Neither did the piano.
Neither did the jokes.
Borge performed with major orchestras.
He appeared on television.
He toured internationally.
He could sit beside an accomplished classical musician and turn the conventions of a concert hall inside out without cheapening the music.
That was the secret.
He was mocking classical music because he loved it enough to understand every rule he was breaking.
And he kept doing it for an astonishing length of time.
The child prodigy became the young concert pianist.
The pianist became a comedian.
The comedian became a refugee.
The refugee became an American radio star.
The radio star became an international institution.
Decades passed.
Borge entered his eighties.
Then his nineties.
He still performed.
In September 2000, his wife Sarabel, to whom he had been married since 1953, died.
Borge continued.
In December, at 91, he traveled back to Denmark for a concert.
Then he returned to his home in Greenwich, Connecticut.
On December 23, 2000, one day after returning from that trip, Victor Borge died peacefully in his sleep. He had spent roughly 75 years entertaining audiences.
There is an almost impossible symmetry to his life.
In 1940, Borge left Scandinavia because Nazi Germany had made remaining there dangerous for a Jewish comedian who had publicly mocked Hitler.
He crossed the Atlantic on the last neutral ship out of Petsamo.
He reached America nearly broke.
He couldn’t speak the language.
Everything that had made him famous suddenly had to be rebuilt.
So he learned the words.
Kept the accent.
Sat down at the piano.
And made the country laugh.
Sixty years later, Victor Borge made one final trip back to Denmark to perform.
Then he crossed the Atlantic again.
This time he wasn’t an unknown refugee carrying $20.
He was Victor Borge.
One of the world’s most famous musical comedians.
Hitler had forced Børge Rosenbaum out of his homeland.
He could take the country.
He could threaten the comedian.
He could force him onto a ship.
But he couldn’t kill the joke.
Victor Borge carried it all the way to America—and spent the next six decades getting the last laugh.