In the course of my regular floatings about the planet, I was introduced recently to a delightful young man who was staying with friends.
He was confident, highly rational and more able to converse and deal with concepts than many adults – certainly a credit to fellow pre-teens, including myself and my contemporaries at that age when stuck with having to talk to the likes of me at this age. In fact, he didn’t have to talk to me at all, but chose to do so.
Our conversation lasted less than five minutes but he had already begun to define himself and his future with reference to a ‘diagnosis’ he had been saddled with by school and medical authorities.
Dyspraxia is one of a range of huge and profitable hoaxes visited upon today’s children to make them feel inferior and to convert them into customers for the medico-pharmaceutical monopoly. It has a number of weasel definitions, any one of which would have applied to anybody or nobody that went to school before the insidious infiltration of the education field that has increasingly taken place over the last couple of decades by ‘mental health’ charlatans.
All individual children develop at different rates and they develop different personalities, abilities and talents – the majority of which are not discernible or diagnosable to the naked eye of a psychiatrist, psychologist or behaviourist, each of whom is not, in any case, looking for anything positive, but trying to trick the subject into becoming a disorder statistic. Order, if there was any such definable thing, would be counter-productive and is manifestly of no interest to them whatsoever. You will look in vain for any reference to it in their literature or costly ‘research’ programmes.
While the arbitrary indicators of the phony condition can come and go at any time in the subject’s life, the damning and invalidating label goes on for ever. If you fail the test when you have a toothache or your dog died, you fail and that’s all there is to it. Since it’s not a real condition but something dreamed up for marketing purposes, it’s much more difficult be rid of than to acquire.
If a ‘doctor’ tells your parents you have a condition that involves you hearing voices, he can’t hear them, your parents can’t hear them; how do you prove to everyone that you can’t hear them either?
All these manufactured conditions carry with them a sense of weakness and failure in the victim, because they all begin from the introduction of an unreasonable and unjustifiable expectation. One of the definitions of dyspraxia openly states it: ‘…causes a child to perform less well than expected in daily activities for his or her age.’ (NHS website)
There is, of course, no possible scientific basis for this expectation. Who is doing the expecting? Who is setting the imaginary bar by which potential customers are judged? How high can you raise it before those blinded by their belief in anything calling itself a doctor wake up and smell the bovine excrement?
People are naturally reluctant to doubt doctors. Like parish priests and vicars before them, they have become our shamens, our wizards, those with an aura of knowledge and ancient lore. And the doctors themselves have tried to live up to that role in society, their originally benign intentions addressed to the individual before them with the idea of ameliorating his or her specific disabilities, discomforts and travails.
Medicaments, when prescribed, were once individually tailored and sparingly dispensed. But, especially after the introduction of the monumental and well-meaning National Health Service, those of a pharmaceutical bent almost inevitably capitulated to their inner snake oil hawker and grabbed the main chance.
Apothecaries and pharmacists gave way to purveyors of one-size-fits-all pills and potions and individuals were required to match their symptoms to the product, rather than the other way around.
To simplify this process and fuel the forward march of chemical conquest. hotch-potches of similar or vaguely related symptoms were gathered together into ‘conditions’ that could be actually or apparently relieved by specific concoctions. The causes and the subjective effects on each individual might be as diverse as there are people, but the response could be standardised for maximum convenience, velocity and profit.
Until the middle of the twentieth century, most people obstinately continued to soldier on with day to day ailments. If they had a hangover, they ‘deserved’ it, so they got themselves over it.
But the profits to be made and the advent of television advertising underpinned an all out campaign to turn every citizen into a medical mark. Doctors’ surgeries began to burst at the seams with ever more ailing prescription junkies, and pharmaceutical racketeers entered an exponential bonanza that would soon arrogate supranational status and the power to dictate their own legislations, approvals, and customer base.
Meanwhile, psychiatrists, a sort of lunatic fringe of Hammer Film characters with no more knowledge or expertise than Victor Frankenstein, were mostly making comparatively small change by declaring inconvenient members of the well-to-do loopy on behalf of their impatient heirs. Contesting a field that was not thronged with takers, they had also managed to establish themselves as the go-to fount of fruitcake theories; world domination a speciality. But, despite calling themselves professors and doctors, they were no nearer to being taken seriously by health professionals than they had been when they were reading people’s bumps.
Suddenly though, here was a bride for Frankenstein. Marrying off the trick-cyclists to the then already mostly commercially driven Pharma would beget issue that would not only provide generations of future drug dependencies but, with one lending spurious credit to the other, whole new victims – lonely and unfulfilled housewives, youth, children and even their pets could be supplied by phony, cooked up ailments by the dodgy doctors to provide limitless sales for the equally dodgy drug pushers.
Skulking under false colours that gave the unwary (government, the media) the impression that what they were doing was substantiated by that indiscriminate and often perfidious ‘wonder of the age’, Big Science, psychiatrists and their twaddle-waffling psycho-illogical partners-in-crime turned a two-bit swindle into the crime of the century. A crime so great that not only are we all victims, but many of us go – or send our children – into its jaws voluntarily.
Requiring our children to meet blanket made-up expectations is not science. Even if you set an average as a goal, it’s both useless and damaging. Fifty per cent of children will never achieve the average and the other fifty percent will exceed it by simple definition. No child is ‘average’. Whatever you average, or whatever line you draw is based on arbitrary factors, so is meaningless, no matter how much it gives education authorities or governments an illusion of achievement.
So the diagnosis is fake. And so is the science.
That this child’s young life should be tainted, his natural and unique personality corrupted and brutalised in the name of a shoddy groundless science that prostitutes itself to voracious globalist corporations in the names of healthcare and education, is a quiet tragedy and perhaps the clearest marker of the intellectual, spiritual and ethical bankruptcy of a society brainwashed ‘for its own good’.
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