The Mystery of Pleomorphic Microbial Organisms
“At the heart of science lies discovery which involves a change in worldview. Discovery in science is possible only in societies which accord their citizens the freedom to pursue the truth where it may lead and which therefore have respect for different paths to that truth,”
– John Polanyi, Canadian Nobel Laureate (Chemistry); commencement address, McGill University, Montreal, Canada, June 1990.
What follows is an attempt to provide a brief overview of astounding findings made by a band of intrepid and heretical searchers in a field of knowledge that deals with the very smallest forms of life.
Hard as it is to believe, these findings, made over more than a century ago, have been consistently ignored, censored by silence, or suppressed throughout all of that time by ruling “opinion-makers”, orthodox (R1) thinkers in mainstream microbiology.
Instead of being welcomed with excitement and open arms, as one would a friend or lover, the amazing discoveries have been received with a hostility unusually only meted out to trespassers or imposters.
To try to present the vastness of a multi-dimensional panorama, is a little like trying to inscribe the contents of thick manuscript onto a postage stamp, or reduce the production of an hour-long drama into a few minutes of stage time.
Involved on the one hand is not only the sheer volume of material, but with books on the subject being hard to obtain, it is also not easily accessible and is sparsely referenced in ordinary bibliographical sources.
On the other hand, the protagonists in what amounts to a gripping saga were, more often than not, completely isolated from one another in space, time or both. They, and their parallel work and research, were consequently often unknown to their potential colleagues and natural allies. It was as if they were adventurers who, thinking themselves to be the sole explorers in virgin territory, were actually all opening up various parts of the same terra incognita.
Furthermore, as we have already said, the reports of the discovery of a whole “New World” by these many “Columbus’s” were unwelcome, “Old World” cartographers had already made their maps and were satisfied with them.
Therefore, since maps of this territory are sketchy at best, or nonexistent at worst, outsiders seeking to penetrate it should remember the Buddhist saying: “The only trails are those that are made by walking” And the ones upon which they set foot will be not so much selected by intention as stumbled upon by chance.
It is for such reasons that, when I thought about how I might approach this subject today, I decided to eschew the formality of any academic approach in favour of telling the tale of my own foray into the little known land of Pleomorphic organisms as it actually unfolded. Unlike other speakers at this symposium, I am neither a scientist, an academic or a health professional, but a writer who, for some 20 years, has roved the “frontiers” of science.
I am certain that if any of you have been propelled by some similarly strange twist of fate to go on the same quest, you have taken a different trail from mine. Yet, as they say, “all roads finally lead to Rome.”
First Steps on the Trail:
Wilhelm Reich and the Bions
My first exposure to the world of Pleomorphic organisms – though I did not recognise it at the time – came in 1969 when, after returning to the United States from a stint as a foreign correspondent, I was asked by Peter Tompkins, an established author, to help him research a biography on the life and work of a “maverick” scientist, the late Wilhelm Reich M.D.
If “maverickness” is a quality attributable to innovators unafraid of developing new ideas and inventions – and often unscorched by the brand of any formal education into the subjects of their research – then that term suits Reich to a “T’.
After first making his mark in psychoanalysis as Freud’s protégé and leading collaborator, he abruptly broke with the International Psychoanalytic Movement to take up an independent career in an aspect of what today has come to be called biophysics. When he bolted the Freudian “herd” in the mid-1930’s, most of his colleagues became his bitter enemies.
Exiled from central Europe to Norway, he began working with an unusual microscope equipped with special lenses that could magnify living organisms to 2 – 3000X their normal size, well over twice the magnification achievable with the ordinary microscopes of his day.
Among his extraordinary discoveries were “vesicles,” minuscule fluid containing bladder-like sacs, that appeared in infusions of hay and other substances such as animal tissue, earth and coal.
After much experimentation during which he noted a marked increase in the number of vesicles that could be cultured when the preparations containing them were boiled, he concluded that the strange forms he had discovered were “transitional” one lying midway between the realms of the animate and the inert.
To these heretofore unrecognized elementary stages of life, he gave the name: Bions.(1)
Most microbiologists, not to speak of other life-scientists, undoubtedly looked upon Reich’s new creatures as if they had come straight out of Walt Disney’s old film, Fantasia. If so, they were in for an even ruder shock. For when Reich poured some of his boiled preparations onto nutrient culture media, the cultures began to generate peculiar looking bacteria and amoebae, creating, as it were, well-known life-forms, at least forms akin to them.
There was, of course, the possibility that the newly generated “animacules” – as Leuwenhock, inventor of the microscope called them when he first viewed them – could have invaded the cultures from the ambient atmosphere or that they could have appeared because the culture media had been improperly sterilized. To rule these out, Reich superheated his bion cultures to find that the ostensibly “dead” mixtures still gave rise to the higher microbic forms.
This led to the further conclusion that bions, as preliminary stages of life, were embodiments of an indestructible life force that defied death. This life energy he called “Orgone.”
So apparently outlandish a discovery as that of a new “life energy” could not but rile biologists who had long sought to dispose of “vitalistic theories” such as those of the French philosopher, Henri Bergson, who postulated an elan vital, or the German biologist, Hans Driesch, who, borrowing the term from Aristotle, referred to entelechy. Biology was coming increasingly under the cold sway of a physics which adamantly rejected any “mystical” notions such as those of a “primal creator” or a “force of life”, and therefore dutifully took its cue from the branch of science considered “first among peers.”
Were all his disclosures not already so heretical as to alarm orthodox, or “correct opinion-making” science, to them Reich next added that microbial bion structures could also be detected in, and cultured from human blood, which, then as now, was and is considered to be sterile, an unchanging doctrine still taught in medical schools.
This, in turn, next led him to examine blood samples taken from persons suffering from cancer in which he saw extremely tiny bacterial forms that he connected to that lethal disease process. He therefore labelled them T – bacilli, the T standing for Tod which in Reich’s native German means “death.”
It seemed to Reich that there was something unaccountable going on in the bodies of the cancer-afflicted, a degeneration causing healthy life-promoting bions to develop into a death-dealing T-bacilli. Since he had also found these “death bacteria” in the excreta of healthy people, he assumed that they were able to dispose of cancer causing particles, and that disposition to cancer was determined by a level of biological resistance to putrefaction.
It is at this juncture that I shall ask a leading question that only came into my mind many years after I had, via Reich, begun to delve into Pleomorphic bacteriology and its connection with cancer and other degenerative diseases. I ask it because I later found that researchers working in this pioneering field who discovered microbes associated with cancerous states – to which each gave his or her own special nomenclature, thus creating a kind of “Tower of Babel” – instead of looking upon the appearance of the alien forms as an “alarm signs” or “warning light”, that is an indicator of an incipient disease state, held them to be the cause of the disease.
The question, a central one in this discussion, therefore is: “Could germs appearing in the body be the result rather than the cause of afflictions, if not always, at least often?” It may be that they are both.
Reich’s life ended tragically. For his pains, he was submitted anew to viciously virulent attacks for questioning sacred dogmas of medical science in general and cancerology in particular. The story of this towering, often cantankerous, scientist ended when he was brought to trial and sentenced to a term in a U.S. Federal penitentiary where, in 1964, he died.
The government of our American free republic also ordered that all of Reich’s publication on which they could lay their hands – including a privately printed journal, Journal of Orgonomy – be destroyed in a New York City incinerator. That order was carried out less than 20 years after the Nani government in Germany had ordered all of Reich’s then existing publications burned on an enormous pyre in downtown Berlin.(R3)
Second Steps on the Trail:
Royal Raymond Rife and the Universal Microscope
For many reasons, our biography was never written (R4). Yet the two years spent researching it was hardly wasted, because it was through the opportunity given to delve into Reich’s fascinating research that I first fell, like Alice down the hole or through the looking glass, into a wonderland of scientific “no-no’s.”
In many ways it was a thrilling, yet troubling experience. Disturbing because, as one long trained to accept things as they supposedly “were”, I was brought face to face with an investigative world in which those same things actually “were not”. As I went along my trail, I also found that there were many other “were note” and “are nots” that were and are!
One question was especially rankling: What was preventing new discoveries from being recognised for what they were? Was this because “established” researchers, comfortable with orthodox scientific thinking, or “received knowledge”, could not change their mind-sets, in Dr. John Polanyi’s words, their “worldview” to accommodate innovative thinking, or “vanguard knowledge?”
How was it that, in the precincts ruled by the “arbiters of knowledge”, the evidencing of “unknown” things, instead of being viewed with excitement, was often castigated as “illusory” or tabooed as “fantasy”?
In 1965, I came across an article that more than just attracted my writer’s attention in that, in 1944, it was published in, not just one, but two prestigious journals, that of the Smithsonian Institute in Washington, D.C. and that of the Franklin Institute in Philadelphia.
One third of its contents was devoted to the new electron microscope just put on the market by the Radio Corporation of America, the other two thirds, the lion’s share, to a “Universal Microscope” that had been designed and developed in the 1920’s by a Californian autodidact, Royal Raymond Rife.
The electron microscope, I knew, while capable of attaining magnifications surpassing 500,000X at excellent resolution, was incapable of examining living things because its radiation killed them.
But, as dearly stated in the article, Rife’s instrument was able to view living matter at unheard of magnifications reaching at least 60,000X, also at excellent resolution (R5).
With this extraordinary device, Rife could easily view a family of microbes in the blood of sick people which seemingly miraculously transformed, under various conditions, one into the other, like so many caterpillars metamorphising into so many butterflies. Sixteen stages in all, the same number in Gaston Naessens’ somatid cycle.
As a result, he came to the independent conclusion – to which as we shall see, others had come independently both before and after him -that, depending on its inner state, germs arose within the the body itself that, in Rife’s opinion, were not the cause but the result of disease states.
That single conclusion completely overturned everything I had learned about bacteriology and disease during a four year course at general biology at Harvard.
Barely able to believe what I had read, and recalling what I had learned during my studies of Reich’s bion research, I dropped a book (R6) I was working on to spend two months at the National Library of Medicine trying to track down everything I could on Rife and his superscope. Not only was there precious little printed on the subject but the microscope itself seemed to have vanished from the surface of the earth.
The story of my fruitless search has been told elsewhere (3), so here, I will simply say that my library research showed that for several decades up to 1930, a now all but forgotten, if not entirely lost, school of microliologists had maintained that, far from holding everlastingly to one shape, bacteria could be caused, under the right conditions of culture, to metamorphose into forms small enough to pass through filters capable of blocking any microbe smaller than a virus.
Because of their sharp disagreement with a camp of orthodox bacteriologists known as non-filtrationists”, these rebels were known as “filtrationists”.
One of the earliest members of this school was a Swedish Ernst Bernhard Almquist, who, because he was also an Arctic explorer had islands off the north Siberian coast named after him.
Almquist made hundreds of observations of pleomorphic bacteria in his laboratory as did researchers in France, Italy, Germany, Russia and the United States and probably other countries. In 1922, after two long decades of work, Almquist came to the conclusion that “nobody can presume to know the complete life cycle and all the varieties of even a single bacterial species. It would be an assumption to think so.”
The furor unleashed in the microbiological world microscopic discoveries, as well as by his subsequent electromagnetically-based cure for cancer and other diseases, being put, like Reich, to trial by U.S. medical authorities. The trial proved so traumatic to the highly sensitive inventor that it led, first to a total nervous breakdown, then to alcoholism (R7).
The opposite fates of two microscopes, the electron and the “Universal”, have ever since continued to plague my mind, incessantly pricking it with a philosophical question: How was it that the first, able to see only inert, inanimate matter was universally adopted in the world’s laboratories while the second, able to view animate organism as they lived and breathed, went into universal limbo?
What did the triumphant success of the one, and the sad demise of the other, have to say about the basic 20th century outlook in the biosciences supposedly dealing with life?
While asking that question, let us add a few more. What is it about the “politics of science” that led two scientific titans – or three, if, by anticipation, we include our host, Gaston Naessens – men who were self-trained experts in microscopy, and cancerology, to be brought to trial?
How is it that the discoveries of all three have been put on an “Index” as bogus and worthless? What explains their being denounced, all three of them, as deceivers and charlatans in the United States, France and many other countries?
It would take a moment of silence to contemplate the answer to these questions.” (R8)
Third Steps on the Trail:
Gaston Naessens and the Somatid
From where it had first led to Reich, thence to Rife, my trail next took me, surprisingly enough, to Rock Forest, a small village in that portion of Quebec, just north of Vermont, that is called L’Estrie in French, and The Eastern Townships in English.
I was tipped off to the existence of Gaston Naessens by Eva Reich M.D., Wilhelm Reich’s daughter. Since part of the story of my initial meeting, and 12-year association, with him has been told in the first chapter of my book, I shall not repeat it here.
What I can, and should say, is that if my studies of Reich’s research had opened a narrow vista onto the world of pleomorphic microbiology, and those of Reich’s work had greatly widened it, then what I came to learn as result of my encounters with Naessens began to afford me a view of the whole horizon beyond it.
My first visit to see Gaston Naessens was in 1979, ten years after a footlocker of Reich’s writings had been handed to me by Peter Tompkins for study. During the next half decade I was to learn, through my own experience, the help of friends and particularly through hundreds of hours spent with Gaston Naessens and his wife, a great deal more about what he has discovered in his fascinating research life than is reported in my book. And to learn about the many vicissitudes he has gone through as a result.
As time went by, one of the main things that became most shockingly clear to me was the unwillingness, or the inability of many scientifically trained people to accept or believe what they were seeing through Naessens’ microscope.
Instead of heralding the somatidic forms as excitingly brand new, they simply wrote them off as artifact, something not naturally present but introduced in error.” (R9).
A whole essay could be written about how such beliefs spring, within seconds, into the minds of so called “competent” observers the most authoritarian of whom pass along as “certainties” to their followers. All such observers – and they are the vast majority – have, if they have ever heard it, forgotten Reich’s dictum for scientific work: “Do not automatically believe in anything , especially what you are told. Convince yourself of something by observing it with your own eyes. And, after having perceived a new fact, do not loose site of it again until it is fully explained” (emphasis added)
If, in this connection, it appears that the aphorism, “seeing is believing”, does not necessarily hold true, one may add that the same is the case for the reverse: “believing is seeing”.
During one trip to Europe with the Naessens’ in the mid 1980s, we were privileged to meet a Swedish physician, Erik Enby MD. who had experience working with what I learned was one of the earliest, and most talented, pioneers in the field of pleomorphic microbial research.
This was a German zoologist of whom we shall say more of in a few moments.
It was because of the language barrier – Enby’s spoken English was halting and Enderlein’s publications were in German, a language I neither speak nor read – that I could not subsequently penetrate that part of the terra incognita where the German scientist had laboured, at least not until 1990.
The peaks in a mountain chain of discoveries made by Naessens have been reviewed in part one of my book. In retrospect, given the whole “patchwork quilt” or other discoveries in this field made by a small platoon of researches, I would say that his crowning find was to have traced the whole cycle back to its origin, the tiny form he calls the somatid and to show how that form not only is all but indestructible, but through experimentation, how it acts something like a “DNA precursor” (R10).
All this and more, raises the question as to whether Naessens, in addition to everything else he has done, including the development of a promising approach for the alleviation of degenerative disease, has not come as close as anyone to unravelling the skein within which lies hidden the very mystery of the origins of life that has for so long continued to confound science, as it still continues to confound it. I use the qualification “as close as” because the next twist in my trail was to confront me with the realization that another French scientist of rare genius might have been unravelling the same skein a century before Naessens began to take up the task.
Fourth Steps on the Trail:
Bechamp and the Microzymas
It was in France, in 1984, that I met a pharmacist, Marie Nonclerq, who after a life spent practising her profession, was spurred to write an award winning doctoral dissertation under the title: Antoine Bechamp, 1816-1908: The Man and the Scientist, and the Originality and Productivity of his Work’ (4)
The disappearance of Rife’s microscope, along with most of his research documentation, constituted what amounted to a lost chapter in the history of microbiological science.
What Nonclercq had been able to dredge up from the annals seemed to be no less than a whole lost book.
I had stumbled, again by happenstance, on a controversy involving a battle between two scientific titans that had for so long been swept from memory that several generation of scientists knew nothing about it.
One of the adversaries was Bechamp, the other, his nemesis, the world-famous Louis Pasteur whose name is inscribed on the lintels of research institutes all over the world. The controversy centrally involved their opposing views about the genesis of microbe-fostered disease.
Through a physician in Brittany, Nonclercq came across a thick tome on the history of a medicine (5) in which she read that, on his death bed, Louis Pasteur had declared: Claude Bernard was right… the microbe is nothing, the terrain is everything.”
In his recantation, the father of the theory – still enshrined as gospel -that the primordial role in many diseases is played by germs invading the body from without, seemed to be submitting to evidence that, in actual fact, that role is often played by the body’s internal environment, its terrain, its “soil” if one wills, that, changing in nature due to various causes, fosters the development of germs from within.
What Pasteur omitted was that his confession had been based not on single insightful statement by France’s leading physiologist, Bernard, but by Antoine Bechamp, the man with whom he had been locked in struggle for decades.
Nonclercq’s painstaking digging into historical sources uncontestably proves that this battle was won, not on the basis of scientific facts, but by Pasteur’s being able to overcome his nemesis, a dedicated, but retiring, searcher with no flair for self-promotion, with his highly developed skills in what today is called “public relations.”
If the justice of history prevails, the Pasteurian victory will one day prove entirely pyrrhic, at least in terms of the staggering losses suffered by medical science in having, for so long been constrained to follow the Pasteurian track.
Bechamp’s own trail of discoveries began when, attacking the problem of fermentation – chemical reactions that split complex compounds into relatively simple substances – he isolated from living organisms a series of “ferments” he called zymases (R11).
Working with a class of organisms called molds, fungoid growths that disintegrate organic matter, Bechamp saw them to be formed by a collection of tiny “granulations” which, because of their connection to zymases, he called microzymas, or “tiny ferments”, lexical forerunner of Naessens’ somatids (“tiny bodies”) (6).
Very importantly, for the purposes of this narrative, he also found that these granulations, under certain conditions, evolved into single-celled bacteria and that, therefore “cells could no longer be regarded as the basic units of life”, there being something far smaller to replace them.
More than that, the microzymas were seemingly so indestructible that Bechamp could find them even in limestone dating to a geologic period going back 60 million years during which the first mammals appeared on Earth. And he was astonished that all his efforts to kill them proved fruitless.
As he was to write, in his third masterwork, The Blood “I am able to assert that the microzyma is at the commencement of all organisation.
And, since microzymas in dead bacteria are also living, it follows that they are also the living end of all organisations, living beings of a special category without analogue.”(7).
Because microzymas appeared at the inception of the life process -for instance in an ovule that became an egg – and were also to be found, fully active, in decaying life-forms, Bechamp, in a biological parallel to Lavoisier’s chemical rule: “Nothing is lost, nothing is created … all is transformed,” was to state: “Nothing is the prey of death.. all is the prey of life.”
This seems to recall the old biblical phrase: “Ashes to ashes, and dust to dust…” On the final page of The Blood, Bechamp was even more explicit:
“After death, it is essential that matter be restored to its primitive condition, for it has only been lent for a time to the living organised being … Living beings, filled with microzymas, carry in themselves the elements essential for life, or for disease, for destruction and for death.
This variety of results need not surprise us for the processes are the same. Our cells – as can constantly be observed – are being continuously destroyed by means of a fermentation very analogous to that which follows death. If we penetrate into the heart of these phenomena we could really say, were it not that the expression is a trifle offensive, that we are constantly rotting!” (emphasis added).
Fifth Steps on the Trail:
Guenther Enderlein and the Bacterial Life Cycle
It was only in the 1990 that, a year after our sequel (R12) to The Secret Life of Plants came out, and 22 years after I began studying Reich and the bions, I finally had access to the work of another researcher that made the chain of mountain peaks on the horizon of pleomorphic microbial research stand out in clearer historical detail. This access was provided by a book, the first in English on the subject, dealing with the research begun during World War I by German zoologist, Guenther Endedein, whose discoveries were characterised by the book’s author as “some of the most important ever made.”
Working as a bacteriologist in a military hospital on the Baltic Sea, Enderlein, in 1917, finished a manuscript heralded by colleagues as “opening totally new observations of the microbe world.” It revealed many different pleomorphic development phases of bacteria and showed that illnesses and their healing processes are bound to exact cyclical and morphological laws.
The manuscript was published as a book, Bakterien Cyclogenie, (The Life Cycle of Bacteria) in 1925, shortly after its author’s appointment as curator of the Zoological Museum in Berlin.
For inspiring his work, Enderlein gives great credit to Antoine Bechamp as well as several Germans who took up where Bechamp left off, including zoologist Robert Leuckart, founder of the science of parisitology, and Otto Schmidt, who first reported parasites in the blood of cancer patients as far back as 1901.
Given the focus of interest at this meeting on darkfield microscopy, it is of great interest to add here that only by working at this instrument did Enderlein learn that microorganisms go through a forming-changing cycle that, in his view, could take on countless variations leading him to label the phenomenon a “1000-headed monster.”
He unequivocally asserted, while different types of microorganisms normally live within the body in a mutually beneficial symbiotic relationship, with severe deterioration of the body’s environment they develop into disease-producing (!!) forms to create what he called dysbiosis, or “a fault in the life process.”
Their action, said Enderlein, was not due to any perverse intent on the the microbes part to harm it, but to the their urge to survive at its expense! In their early development phases they lived in the blood to perform functions beneficial to health, in the later ones, they abandoned that role to assure their preservation.’
Since, today, Bakterien Cyclogenie has become virtually unknown, it is curious to note that, before World War II, it brought the researcher a modicum of international recognition. It was apparently well received at an international biological congress held in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania in 1930, and Enderlein’s contributions were recognised by his being honored, in 1939, at the Third Microbiological Congress held in New York City.
Despite personal attacks on him by powerful members of the orthodox German medical community, Enderlein was strongly supported by a few courageous colleagues such as the physician and microbial researcher, Dr. Wilhelm von Brehmer, who identified as causal agent in the uncontrolled and malignant growth of Cancerous cells.”
Enby’s book also filled me in on historical aspects of how the doctrine that microbes were monomorphic – as opposed to pleomorphic– had risen to ascendancy, aspects which I had missed while researching my paper on Royal Raymond Rife.
This rise can be attributed not only to the influence of Pasteur (1822-1895), but also to that of Robert Koch (1843-1910), whose “principles” are one of the “Ten Commandments” in microbial research, and his compatriot the naturalist and botanist, Ferdinand Julius Cohn (1828-1898), who insisted upon the constancy of bacterial types and their Classification into rigidly set groups and species based on their structure and form.
Entrenched as dogma, the Cohn-Koch view was taught to many Americans who went to Germany to study medicine after the turn of the Century and who, in turn, brought it back to the United Stales where, becoming the ruling outlook, it brooked no opposition.
In Lieu of a Conclusion:
The Trail Winds Ahead
What I have presented to you is only an account of a personal trek into the mysterious country inhabited by pleomorphic organisms. I gave it to you “piecemeal” so that you could share the uncertanties and surprises met along the trail that are normal to any exploration.
The country surveyed has been only superficially charted but, as a result of my exploration, my knapsack is filled with a heap of sketches, that, given the time necessary to accomplish the task, would one day allow me to prepare a map of the territory in all detail.
In book form, this map could easily provide a tale as exciting as any told in the best detective thriller. All that is lacking is its ending, and the ending “devoutly to be wished” is that the labors of so many stalwart workers in the field of microbial pleomorphic research will find their fruits in the acceptance of their findings – and the applications of therapeutic modalities to which these have led – for the benefit of the sick and the suffering everywhere.
The first chapter of Dr. Enby’s book was entitled; “Origins of a Medical Revolution.” That revolution, still in progress is not over. Since Enderlein’s book came out 65 years ago, its conclusions, like those of Bechamp before him, have continued to remain unacknowledged by the scientific community as a whole. This is not because many other researchers have not bent every effort to bring out the truth, to make the revolution happen. Consider, for instance that, way back in 1927, an American microbiologist, Dr. Philip Hadley, who much admired Enderlein’s work, published, in the Journal of Infectious Diseases, a 312 page article, “Microbic Dissociation”, based on work conducted at the Hygienic L.aboratory of the University of Michigan. In this article, Hadley foresightedly noted:
“It will probably be many years before a true appraisal of Enderlein’s contribution can be made. In the meantime, we may regard with not little admiration his manifestly careful attempt to put a degree of order into the chaotic state of the study of bacterial cells. I believe that Enderlein has blazed a trail which, at least, in many lines of advance, other bacteriologists sooner or later are sure to follow.”
Those words were written 64 years ago, but few have been the bacteriologists to take up Hadley’s challenge.
One who did take up that challenge was born only three years before Hadley laid it down. We are in his presence today. In a life of devotion and, isolation, half of it in his native France, the other half in Quebec, the land of his adoption, he has kept alight, and borne forward, the torch lit and carried before him by Bechamp, Enderlein, Rife, Reich and so many others.
Now he has emerged from cherished anonymity into the limelight at a symposium of his summoning to which you have come, many of you from far away, to bear what he has to say and to see what he has to show you.
It maybe that his discoveries will determine whether the field of microbial pleomorphic research will at last emerge onto scientific center-stage.
Will that emergence soon happen”?
Is it “to be or not to be?” For that, as Hamlet put it in another context, is the question.
Let us salute Gaston Naessens and his triumphant accomplishments.
References
RI The word ‘orthodox’, stems from Greek ortho . (meaning ‘correct’, or ‘right’, or even ‘upright’) mid doxa (‘opinion), the latter coming from the verb, dokein (‘to think,’ or ‘to seem’). Traced to its roots, orthodoxy thus connotes ‘opinions that seem, or are though to be correct’
R2 Untranslatable into any other language, the word ‘maverick’ denotes one who refuses to abide by the dictates of his group, in other words, a ‘dissenter’. Most people do not know that its etymology comes straight out of the cowboy culture of the ‘Old West’ where the term was applied to an unbranded, or orphan, range calf or foal traditionally considered the property of the first person who brands it. The English speaking word is indebted to an early Texas cattleman, Samuel a Maverick (1809-1810) who did not brand his calves, for involuntarily donating his name to its lexicon.
R3 The world, and perhaps the only, expert on Reich’s bion research is Dr. Bernard Grad, professor of biological sciences recently retired from McGill University in Montreal. In his student days, Grad spent much time working with Reich at “Organon” the home and research laboratory Reich bult in Rangeley, Maine. Grad has research, still awaiting publication, on his own bion research it relates to the origin of Life.
R4 Reich’s private archives were sealed by the sole trustee to his estate. His daughter, Eva, tried unsucessfully to unseal them through court action.
R5 Rife’s genius also invented a camera which could clearly reveal the letters and numbers of an auto license plate from a mile away!
R6 The Diving Hand: The 500 Year Old Mystery of Dowsing (E.P. Dutton, New York, 1979; New Age Publications, North Carolina, 1985.)
R7 It was only through a fortuitous meeting in Kansas City that I was finally led to the San Diego garage of one of Rife’s lab assistants where I found the “Universal Microscope” in dilapidated condition. The publication of my article resulted in many phone calls from people who had been on the hunt for the microscope for years. One of the most interesting and ardent came from John Hubbard MD., State University of New York (Buffalo), who came to my house in Washington D.C. to look at documentation on RifeI had brought back from California. I had planned to write a book on Rife’s life and work, but other projects intervened. That book, The Cancer Cure that Worked, (Marcus Books, Queensville, Ontario, 1987) was written by Barry Lynes.
R8 For enlightening answers to these questions, see The Cancer Industry Unravelling the Politics, by Ralph W.Moss (Paragon House, New York, 1989).
R9 The word “artifact” stems from art, plus factum (the neuter past participle of the verb facere, “to make”), or “something made”. In biology, it means “a structure or substance not normally present but produced by some external agency or action.” Most of us have forgotten that the basic meaning of the word, art, is “human effort to supplement, imitate, alter or counterfeit the work of nature.” The facile use of the word, “artifact,” in addition to being able unjustly to dispose of new microscopic discoveries, has a kind of “overtone” suggesting an attempt to trick, feign, dissemble or to carry out a deception or engage in a fraudulent action. It fits well with accusations against Naessens of having done all those things over the years.
R10 His experiments on rabbit-to-rabbit somatid transfer as they apply to genetic characteristic change in living animals, and particularly to organ transplant with potentially no “rejection syndrome”, are described in part 1 of my book.
R11 Enzyme complexes found in yeasts, bacteria and higher plants. Credit for their discovery went, not to Bechamp, but to a German scientist who was awarded the Nobel Prize in 1907 for making it. Bechamp’s conclusive paper, justifying his priority, was published in 1897 and the word zymase is found in the 1873 edition of the French Littre dictionary in connection with Bechamp’s first work on the subject.
R12 Secrets of the Soil, Harpercollins, New York, 1980.
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1. Reich’s first book on this, written in German, was Die Bione (The Bions) published in Norway in 1939. English language treatment of the subject is to be found in The Cancer Biopathy, (first published in the 1950’s) 1973; and The Bion Experiments on the Origin of Life, 1979, both published by Farrar, Straus, Giroux.
2. “The New Microscopes”
3. “What Has Become of the Rife Microscope?” New Age Journal, Boston, Massachusetts, also reprinted in The Persecution and Trial of Gaston Naesens, NJ. Kramer inc, Tiburon, California, 1991, as Appendix “A”.
4. Published as a book: Antoine Bechamp, 1816-1908 L’Homme et le Savant, Originalite et Fecondite de Son Oeuvre, Maloine, Paris, 1982.
5. Delhoume, Leon, De Claude Bernard a d’Arsonval. Lib Bailliere et fils, Paris, 1939, 595pp
6. Bechamp’s two master works on this subject are Les Microzymas, Blilliere, Paris, 1883, 992pages; and Microzymas et Microbes, Editions Dentu, Paris, 1893, 346 pages.
7. From Le Sang et son deme element anatomique, Paris 1899, translated as The Blood and the Third Anatomical Element by Montague R. Leverson MD., John Ouseley Limited, London 1912. In the 1980’s Alan Cantwell, reported that the Library of Congress in Washington D.C. had informed him that the book was to be found neither in its collection nor in any library in the United States.
8. Hidden Killers: The Revolutionary Medical Discoveries of Professor Gunther Enderlein, by Erik Enby MD., Sheehan Communications, 1990.
9. Enderlein who like Bechamp, lived for 96 years (he died in 1968), published many of his conclusions in Akmon – a journal he first issued in 1955.
10. In his book, Siphonospora polymorpha von Brehmer, 1947, this researcher also noted that cancer can be prediagnosed in its earliest forms by measuring the pH value of the blood and the appearance in it of large amounts of rod-shaped siphonospora, as viewable under a dark-field microscope.
Bechamp is one of the most deserving scientists in all of history. By comparison Pasteur is one of the least deserving and greatest of plagiarism from Bechamp in the World.