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Friday, February 10, 2012

Paleolithic DNA and Morphology

Neanderthal demise due to many influences, including cultural changes
(I don't consider Neanderthals to be Paleolithic; I believe that they're Neolithic.  I only included this article for the interesting ideas presented therein.)
Interesting ideas again, although based on speculative chronology... It substantiates my belief that Neanderthals were not inventive, in the creative manner of Human beings.  I believe that in fact they copied Human behavior and technologies (to the best of their very limited abilities).  They would have been like severely mentally and physically impaired Humans, with big teeth.  Also Impulsive, compulsive, and ill-tempered.


This article helps me to understand why I rated "Zulu" ethnicity in my anthropometric analysis.  I have a lot of Paleo-American / Paleo-European DNA.

But, I still don't think that I look anything like modern Zulus, lol.  So, it's puzzling (and strangely, somehow miraculous) to me, how that happened (even though I believe it's probably accurate, now that I see this).

However, I have read someplace that Zulus are much different (more Cro-Magnon or something like that) from most Africans.  Understandable, since they're South African (and Homo Sapiens sapiens is said to have originated in South Africa; but also in Northwest Africa, near the Tuaregs' and Basques' ancient homelands).

And oddly enough, I had a crazy premonition that very thing would happen:  that I would come up "Zulu", lol (without really knowing why, at the time) -- right before I first entered all the measurements data into the analyzer for computation.

There was no way that I could have made that happen.  It took me all by surprise, and I'm not sure anyone could cause that program to show an intended result (excepting maybe, someone who is quite well-versed in the science of Anthropology).  In fact, it's taken me several days of befuddled searching, to finally understand that it's probably correct.

Now that I understand the reasoning behind it, I have very little problem with accepting it. 

Also, the analysis put me at zero percent "white American" (which is really "Aryan"); and only 1 percent "Afro-American".  I'm 74-75 percent "Zulu", lol.  However, the application doesn't consider Native American anthropology at all.  Yet, this same article (cited above) explains the direct relationship between Native American, Indigenous European, Norse, and Zulu morphologies.  All are very, very similar, somehow.  All are Paleolithic, Cro-Magnon.

I'm not only Native American (with rare, ancient "European" mtDNA), but also probably Norse (Danish Viking Denmans); and most likely the Xaviers (Jabiers, Seviers) and possibly even the Geneaus (Ganos) were Basques.  According to Dienekes' article, along with other information that I've been able to collect over the years, it seems that all of those are Paleolithic types.  And according to the article, the Paleolithic types all have a certain degree of genetic similarities, even though they are divided geographically.

Besides the Zulu morphology and the lack of modern "American" morphology (neither "white" Aryan, nor "black") -- even though it could be said that I'm ironically 'more' "American" than most people -- I also have some tendencies toward Croatian (8%), Russian (6%), Greek and Japanese (both 3%).

Ever since I was a child, I was frequently embarassed by people unexpectedly commenting on my skin color:  they seemed to think that my skin was unusually red- or pink- toned.  They would call attention to it, sometimes in ways that made me feel it was something to be ashamed of, made me feel uncomfortable and inexplicably freakish.  Short of using heavy, unnatural makeup, there was nothing I could do to change how I look.  But now I just realize that I'm a 'red-skin':  nothing to be ashamed of, rather something that I should be proud of.

Besides my naturally "rosey cheeks" (some people were much kinder, when describing me), my skin is unusually transparent and tissue-paper delicate.  My veins are visible through it, and I don't tan well at all, burning very easily.  I prefer to avoid much direct sunlight.

From my Cherokee grandmother, I (and my mother, too) inherited the tendency to bruise easily; it must be genetic.   We also have the 16189C mutation (a marker for the risk of type II diabetes), and although most of my family have escaped that dreadful condition through our very healthy eating habits, unfortunately I became very ill with it immediately following my pre-employment physical at the local Veterans' Affairs hospital (station number 666).

At one of the group orientations at work, a staff nurse(?) leading the meeting, claimed to be a Creole "witch", from Louisiana.  She then deliberately demonstrated her "Southern" accent for us, really laid it on thick (seemed very proud of her ability to talk that way), although she didn't actually say anything meaningful or coherent.  Next, to my horror and consternation, she directed the following statement to me:  "Native Americans never last long here at Fort MacKenzie; don't know why, but they just won't look us in the eye..."

I looked her in the eye; she looked evil.  Then I peered around the room, to see the reactions of the other new employees (most of whom were medical staff, nurses, etc.).  Not one of them would look me in the eye; not one of them seemed to have even heard what the "Creole" woman had just said to me.  "I'm Native American," I admitted (I'd put that on my application, too, where they ask you to identify your 'race').  "Oh..." was all she said, very coyly.

... The government (local, state, and federal) and local medical establishment have refused to help me through my illness.  They claimed baselessly, that it's "all in my mind".  I'm still breathing, and have a pulse; so as far as they're concerned, I can get a job, purchase some health insurance, and then get some medical attention.  Yeah, right (be their guinea pig and also pay them to experiment on me).

They behaved as if worried that the hospital might get into some sort of trouble for my health problems, just because I told the truth about when and how I got sick.  Every time I simply mentioned it, they became very uncomfortable (squirmed) and behaved very strangely.  Sometimes they wouldn't look me in the eyes; and other times they seemed trying to 'stare me down'.  Their eyes darted around the room, or sometimes became fixed wide open, sort of mocking (also known as the 'thousand' yard stare, the 'reptilian' stare -- they look right through you, unblinking).

The very first doctor I saw, whose name according to his nametag, started with two "AA"s and looked German or maybe Dutch to me (at the local "free clinic", where the staff set out a jar for $15 'donations'; where I waited four hours to be seen; and where a very tall, chunky VA nurse with fire-engine red hair, apparently a transvestite, worked the triage on me -- and who showed zero recognition of me later, when I'd reported to her department at the VA hospital for a TB test), called me "stupid" and "crazy", and declared (before he even looked at me) that it wasn't what said (a fungal ear infection) -- it was what he said:  and he would only give me a prescription for antibiotics; I could take it or leave it.

That was after he dropped the ear-viewing instrument on the floor, then picked it up and jammed it roughly into my sick ear.

They all became extremely defensive, and also went on the offensive toward me (as if I'm some sort of 'villain').  They really do work as a team, regardless of their intended goal.  One ER doctor (the first one:  I've been in there three times, begging for help with it) tried to prove that I'm mentally incompetent, with some mickey-mouse questionaire.  He had gingery, light red hair and blue-ish eyes, was fairly tall, and I'd remember his name if I heard it:  it's right on the tip of my tongue.  When examining my ear, he callously remarked, "Oh yeah, that's puss-y."

The whole team (all several of them), each interrogated me one at a time, taking my 'history'.  They all asked the exact same questions, and pretended to write down my answers or take notes.  Not one of them really gave a damn, took me seriously, or got any real meaning out of what I was telling them.  No respect.

The local doctor who does Social Security examinations (Dr. Wilson), made a sick, demented joke about slicing my ear off (and diagnosed me without testing, with cancer of the skin on my ear, which I do not have); yet reported that although in his opinion I was "healthy" enough to work -- I should get a psychiatric evaluation nevertheless.  He bragged that he'd been a "lumberjack" in his "previous life".  He also whined that I ought to have gotten myself a diabetes test, "they only cost about $36 at the hospital."  (I was unemployed, broke.  That's why I was seeking financial aid, disability.  At this point, I don't even trust medical 'professionals' at all, any more.)

He referred me to a local shrink for my alleged "mental problem" (I didn't go though, because my complaint was physical, not mental -- had it been a mental issue, I would have said so).  The ER docs (all three) charged me $550 each visit and told me that I wasn't sick -- yet referred me to a local Ear Nose and Throat specialist instead.  A "puss-y" ear isn't a sick ear?

If you seek Soc. Sec. Disability (or, show up at an ER without health insurance) these days, you can expect the same treatment:  they will try to make a mental case out of you, while baselessly insisting that you're not physically sick (no lab tests done, even though I repeatedly told them I have very clear symptoms of diabetes and a suppressed immune system).

And I've lately seen (while researching my illness so that I can hopefully heal it myself, since I'll die before any real 'professional' care actually materializes) that even many people who have health insurance and good jobs, are very often being treated just as badly as I was, by doctors these days.  The medical establishment (like bureaucrats) have become very spoiled, finding convenient ways to exploit patients / clients while abusing their powers, authority, and privileges.

We have Congress and the Federal government to thank, for destroying the Civil Rights, health, security, finances and safety of innocent American citizens.

... Another one (the second ER doc, "Dr. Finley" on his name tag) tried to force me to take a thyroid test (he said, "I'll talk to you ONLY if you agree to go along with whatever tests I recommend for you") -- but I don't have thyroid problems.  I told him I have diabetes and a life-threatening, now complicated fungal ear infection.

He finally did concede a little (when I refused to go along with the unnecessary invasive procedure -- which by the way I would've had to pay for:  I don't mind paying for relevant tests, however), and wrote me a prescription for a commonplace antifungal medicine to be taken internally -- yet only gave me enough for FOUR DAYS of treatment.  Obviously, that wasn't enough to make me well (suppressed immune system, etc.);  it only made me feel a lot better for about a week or so; nevertheless, they charged me the usual minimum office visit anyway:  $550.

The third ER doctor (the one with multiple large earrings in both ears), after displaying an extremely cold disregard for my health, tried to trick me into threatening suicide (he asked me near the end of my 'visit', whether I was depressed enough about the way they'd abused me there, to "do something" to myself --  although I didn't even complained about the lousy treatment to him, and really just wanted more than anything, to stay focused on the illness which had brought me into their examining room)... I answered:  "If I wanted to die, I wouldn't be here at a hospital, asking for medical attention."

They (every one of the medical staff, most of whom also work with or for the VA, and the Social Security bureaucrats who spoke to me by telephone) seemed to read a lot more meaning into my statements about how I got sick, than what I had actually said (because, I'd never taken an accusatory tone with any of them about it).

They became mean and aggressive toward me, refusing to prescribe anything helpful or to run any relevant tests on me.  That behavior is what finally raised suspicion in me.  Previously, I'd thought it was just some accident (the female intake doctor at the VA failed to tell the EKG technician, Sue Vogel, that I'd reported having had a heart attack a few years before -- I'd told her that my heart stopped for a few seconds in my sleep, waking me and causing a great deal of chest pain for days afterward) or maybe some unusual reaction to the EKG.  Now, I wonder whether they did something intentionally to kill me off and cause me to leave my job.  I've lost all trust in them.  (Go figure, lol).

They became deaf and dumb, when I told them that I'd recently gotten an EKG (at the VA physical exam) -- which inequivocally proved that I have a heart infarc, apparently from the heart attack (and I'd also told them that I believed the EKG had made my immune system fail, causing the diabetic symptoms:  after all, Sue Vogel, the technician who performed it on me, was very disturbed when she saw the read-out:  she asked me if I was "alright?", and seemed quite concerned about me... At the time, although very weak and lightheaded afterwards, I optimistically reassured her that I would be fine.  The fact is, I was reasonably healthy when I went in there, thus didn't expect that my health would go down the tubes later).

(By the way, as I'd informed the female VA doctor who triaged my pre-employment exam, the heart attack was triggered by the normal dosage of Tylenol PM -- two tablets -- combined with physical exhaustion from working so much overtime).

I'd also reported my damaged neck bones (my customary work is all mostly manual labor, involving a lot of lifting and moving of heavy objects from place to place, heavy cleaning, etc.), and was told by the intake clerk(?) that the hospital "might" X-ray it (evidently, they typically only X-ray the lumbar, lower back region, for pre-employment).  They didn't; and the X-ray technician photographing my lower back seemed annoyed with me just for asking about that.

Yet, regardless of the information I'd freely given about my heart condition (ie, the recent EKG at the VA), the 'Social Security' 'Administration' later forced me to have a chest X-ray done anyway -- so that they could rule out any heart problems.  But, an EKG is a heart diagnostic, much more so than a chest X-ray; I didn't need to be exposed to unnecessary radiation.  Also, they refused to even show me the X-ray picture when I asked to see it (I'd formally requested, in writing, to see all of my lab results and reports).

Changing the subject a little bit (I know I rant about it a lot, but I'm still in need of financial aid and proper medical attention, and can't get either one from a corrupt system -- feeling like an American non-citizen now -- it's unfair, unjust):  I realize now, what the obstetricians and midwives were mumbling about years ago, concerning my pelvis.  I have a very rare, "archaic" (to use the now-defunct medical term for it), Platypelloid pelvis.  That's why my firstborn was born breech.  And although he probably should have been delivered by Caesarian section (would have prevented the birth injuries he received:  bruised hips and a very badly dislocated neck), doing so in those days would've required that my other two children be delivered the same way.

My point is:  being unusual (or, in the "minority" -- whether or not it's openly recognized by either yourself or the people around you) may sometimes be both, beneficial and dangerous or hazardous to your well being.

And I am certain, that we true Paleolithic types are in the minority now.

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