“At least your brain didn’t rot this time,” Mark says when I declared myself fit for service once more. He was talking about my bout with viral meningitis, which made me far sicker than I’ve been today. At that time, I was so far gone, I was on my way to school at lunchtime on a Saturday, and furious that Mark tried to keep me from going. I was going to be late, right?

I declared my fitness mostly so that we could go and watch The Hobbit down at the cinema, and that we did, and I’m still digesting whether I actually liked the film or not. The last film was… long. This time it didn’t feel as long, but I’m still not sure it was a good film.

Back when Stephen King was at his peak, he was said to be able to publish his laundry list and see it on the best seller charts. With a few of his books from this time, you could argue that he did that. Tommyknockers, for instance, is an insane book. Yet it sold, and it was a best-seller, and I couldn’t finish it because it was too long and too strange. The reason it was published was that the publishers indulged King’s fancies, as long as he raked in the cash.

I wonder if that’s not the case with Peter Jackson, and while it’s deeply unfair to say so only after one film, the case of The Hobbit 2 starts to make me wonder if Peter Jackson isn’t being indulged by the studios as long as he rakes in the cash.


When your husband is a wannabe scientist, and your mother is an actual one, the scientific bullshit detector becomes acutely tuned, so when I turned to my man and after that to my mother scoffing at this story, they both looked at me funny and said it could be legitimate. Barring sensationalism from journalists, both said they wanted to read the source. But they didn’t dismiss the article as ridiculous as I did. Hmmm.

There are things going on in science that laypeople just don’t know about, and a lot of effort is being put into anti-aging. Whoever comes up with something to stop aging is going to be a very, very rich person. According to my mother, a chemist, the field of biochemistry is moving rapidly every month. It is not a question of if anti-aging is discovered, but a question of when.

The research focused on an area of cells, called mitochondria, which produce energy. Over time, the communication between this area and the cell nucleus degrades, leading to the ageing process.

Researchers injected a chemical called nicotinamide adenine dinucleotide, or NAD, which reduces in the body as we age. The addition of this compound led to the radical reversal in the ageing of the mice.

“The ageing process we discovered is like a married couple: when they are young, they communicate well, but over time, living in close quarters for many years, communication breaks down,” said the UNSW professor David Sinclair, who is based at Harvard Medical School. “And just like a couple, restoring communication solved the problem.”

So, I suppose, even if my bullshit detector is still going off, that in ten years time everyone can look 20 even if they’re 58. I wonder what that will do for the dance floors of the gay bars. After the film we went to a pub slash gay disco and watched an older man in a ridiculously young dress make quite a fool of himself on the dance floor.

He was ridiculously tanned, had skinny jeans, a top that ended well before the navel, and he was in his sixties. It was like some form of parody, actually. Or a caricature. It certainly was ridiculous. Give it time, and that sixty year old could look like the teenagers and twenty-somethings next to him.


I have slept so oddly these last few days that my sleeping pattern is totally destroyed. I slept till nearly two in the afternoon today, and didn’t get out of bed until Mark came home at over three. He takes a look at me and accuse me of lazying in bed all day. That’s when I made my declaration of wellness, and that’s when he talked about the brain rot.

Since I don’t need so much sleep, I’m wide awake now at twenty past four in the morning. But, I only have one hour of schooling today later this morning, and after that we’re on winter break. Yay. If it gets too difficult I can nap later, or just stay awake until the evening to reset my sleeping pattern.