Disease and … Time Dilation?

Niacin status has been implicated in many disease states. If you go to Google or Google Scholar and input “Alzheimer’s niacin,” for instance, you’ll be reading for weeks.

My mother (Alzheimer’s) has been borderline hyponatremic in the past (low blood sodium). She even had a doctor tell her to put salt in V8 (already quite salty) and drink it throughout the day.

When I take niacin or its cousins, in addition to balance issues, I start to desperately crave salt. In fact, I have even begun to suspect that ME/CFS (and Long Covid, and perhaps many other illnesses) are, at base, a state of being too vasodilated, too dilated in time. The brain thinks time is wider than it is (is the brain too alkaline?), and it keeps the pupils and blood vessels wider than they should be. (I also had acute photo sensitivity around this time.) This excess vasodilation, in turn, throws off the nitric acid cycle. Dr. Martin Pall has been pointing to the NO/ONOO cycle with regard to ME/CFS for at least 20 years. Because we are too dilated, in a sense we are too watery. We crave salt, and aldosterone and arginine vasopressin both become dysregulated, and viruses reactivate (arginine).

I have also had skin cancer, for which niacinamide is recommended (to prevent recurrence). Injected garlic (a famous vasodilator) is also being studied with regard to cancer, with its anticancer effects being described in peer-review literature as “profound.”

Are these cases of (as they say in Eastern medicine) “like cures like”? Perhaps when we are too vasodilated—too dilated in time—we will need too much of the great vasodilator, niacin.

Ritchie Shoemaker, a pioneer in the study of mold sickness, found that people with toxic mold exposures, with ME/CFS, were actually *less* likely to have cancer. In a sense, if the whole person is too dilated in time, there is less opportunity for individual cells or organs to be.

What do I even mean when I say “too dilated in time”?

We know from Einstein that time will tick faster on top of a mountain. When we are on top of a mountain, and time is too wide—is the image too large? (Too vasodilated?)

Jim Pivarski (Fermilab) has written very insightfully about issues of scale in the universe. If *everything* were to be wider, more dilated—including us, including rulers—how would we know?

Maybe we wouldn’t. But the blood knows.

When I am “too wide” in time, when I suffer from the effects of excess vasodilation and a disrupted NO/ONOO cycle—which I believe may occur when the brain is too alkaline—I start to get spontaneous bruises.

Perhaps, on top of a mountain, my blood is too thin. Then, when I come down from the mountain, my blood is too thick. “Too thick” and “too thin” here are relative terms.

When I tried micro dose LSD, to counteract the effects of a brain that I felt was too alkaline, I began to crave vitamin K almost immediately and ate a huge bowl of arugula salad.

I suspect that when we are “lower than sea level” (behind time), we will need vitamin K1, to keep the blood thick. When we are “above sea level” (on top of a mountain, ahead of time) we will need vitamin K2, to keep the blood thin.

Ideally, I have the most metabolic freedom when I can use, when I can see values for time that are both below and above the baseline. When my brain understands both time’s “floor” and its “ceiling.” But holding both values in my brain at once is difficult. I seem to be able to work from an acidic perspective (e.g. DMT or micro dose LSD), or from an alkaline perspective (e.g. melatonin)—but not both at the same time. This seesm to be the central limitation. An acidic value and an alkaline value just add up to pH7, and I lose both my levers.

When my brain is a little too acidic, it grants permission for me to vasoconstrict. When my brain is a little too alkaline, it grants permission for me to vasodilate. I need to be able to vasoconstrict and to vasodilate in order to move around in time.

Here is another way to think about time in a holographic universe. I can be the earth. Or—like an ice skater pulling in for a twirl—I can be the moon inside the sun. When I am the moon inside the sun, I will need more thiamine. More iron. And more vitamin D. When I am the moon inside the sun, it is as if I am inside myself. No longer the flower, I am the seed inside the fruit. The image is no longer whole. Instead of wholeness, there is now a homunculus against a background.

Perception: The Key to Disease

Indeed, perhaps the effect is iterative. I can be the moon inside the sun. Or I can be the moon inside the moon inside the moon inside the sun. I have learned a lot from looking at the models by Klee Irwin and Garrett Lisi of E8 crystal. This photograph, “greatest corona ever” of the moon was taken during the height of the coronavirus pandemic.

This model is not about object as object, “moon as moon.” It is a model rooted in cognitive science that is about the act of perception.

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