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What we call the global pandemic, what we call a global economic crisis, perhaps should be called a global hospital crisis: a crisis of centralized medicine. Sick, lethargic people, dependent on doctors and prescriptions have no other choice — can imagine no other choice — than to rush to hospitals. Without a relationship to nature, without recourse to local healers, to local healing traditions, and family traditions, afraid of sunlight and even fresh air, people rush through hospital doors and immediately overwhelm these fragile institutions. Thus, people die away from loved ones, are buried without ceremony. The chains of community and rituals of mourning are broken — and perhaps for no real reason. One statistic you’ll never find — because it will never be measured — how inadequate hospital care (as a result of bad nutrition, high viral loads, lack of fresh air, lack of meaningful interaction with loved ones) leads to higher death rates (in cases of viruses like Covid that cannot be quickly cured, or halted, with antibiotics and or existing anti-virals). Hospitalization is largely an unintentional act of faith, predicated, ironically, on the tenants of reason.
