There’s nothing better than Science that fits a puzzle piece exactly into an odd shaped void of unexplained phenomenon, making our lives that much more meaningful …
“This is the first study to establish a direct relationship between fish consumption, brain structure and Alzheimer’s risk," said Cyrus Raji, M.D., Ph.D., from the University of Pittsburgh Medical Center and the University of Pittsburgh School of Medicine. "The results showed that people who consumed baked or broiled fish at least one time per week had better preservation of gray matter volume on MRI in brain areas at risk for Alzheimer’s disease."
– via Medicalxpress.com
… giving both us and society one more reason not to limit our kill and farm our limit, and at the same instant neatly explaining why fishermen can’t abide the taste of their quarry, why we’re all destined to have our backsides wiped for us by some truculent male-nurse named “Bruno” …
While embracing Science with both feet, Fly Fishermen have never considered “smartness” of much value, preferring hands unsoiled by bait and pants legs clean of evidence – proof of their pedigree and breeding, never relying on mundane tests like ink blots and Mensa membership.
Guys that stand in cold water are “sturdy”, men that hike miles upstream for small wild fish are “antisocial”. In hindsight, “smart” is the guy that turned us down or had to mow lawn – and while we called him “limpdix” or “wimp” on the way up the hill, on the way back he had bested us morally and physically.
Before you rip into that double Mercury with Cheese, I should point out the asterisks that ensure all the fish death caused by science will be both wasted and pointless …
Eating fried fish, on the other hand, was not shown to increase brain volume or protect against cognitive decline.
Meaning anything made from fish that tastes really stunning or like McDonald’s cardboard will not help you at all, and depending on the source of your new found protein – the chances of you dying of Mercury poisoning or ingesting a tampon are almost certain.
I think I might be safe but just so where clear is Bruno Eastern European? Damn I hope not….
I guess I’m not, I can’t even spell! I hope Bruno is gentle.
The notion of the caring (and continually giggling) stacked blonde nurse is nearly as prevalent as the notion of the nubile basking on a streamside rock.
Your last minutes will be enduring the callous caress of Bruno and his muttered curses – not pinching Clara Barton on her ample rear – God is paying you back for all those fish you tortured.
Saltine crackers and sardines were standard trail fare for the oldtime outdoorsmen. Instead of candybars, lard & whitebread sandwiches & diet coke, throw in a couple cans of sardines, a container of crackers and a chunk of cheese (preferably not the orange candlewax sold in supermarts) and live the best of both worlds. When you finally get smart enough, you’ll know to join the limpdix and stay home a couple of times a year to mow the lawn or go to church – and get square with your wife and Lord Jesus. Amen, Sport.
Gotta love science, always gives you a good reasoning for all the bad you are doing to yourself that in some twisted perspective it might be even good for you 😛
Cheers from Oversees