The Answer is the Rancher and the Secret is in the Sweat

What follows is a simple summary in outline form, and then four short essays explaining the same concepts, each from a slightly different point of view. Enjoy.

The simple answer is this. A farmer or rancher’s life in a pre-industrial world was one of hard work, reliance on the rhythms of nature, and a deep connection to the land. Their lives were woven into the fabric of their communities, and they played a foundational role in the sustenance and economy of their societies.

Now that you have a simple summary, allow me to break it down point by point. Here is a quick outline to give you an idea of where I am headed.

  1. Daily Life
  • Spring
  • Summer
  • Fall
  • Winter
  1. Labor Intensive
  2. Knowledge and Skills
  3. Reliance on Nature
  4. Economic Structure
  5. Livestock
  6. Tools
  7. Community
  8. Market Days
  9. Threats
  10. Education
  11. Cultural and Religious Significance

Daily Life: Life revolved around the seasonal cycles of the crops or livestock.

Spring: Farmers prepared the soil and sowed seeds. This was a busy period, ensuring that fields were ready and that seeds were sown at the correct time.

Summer: Tasks included tending to growing crops, weeding, and, in some cases, early harvesting. For ranchers, this might be a time of moving livestock to different pastures.

Fall: Harvest season was the busiest time. All available hands, including children, would help collect, thresh, and store the crops. It was also a time to slaughter some animals for meat preservation for the winter.

Winter: Maintenance tasks, repairing tools, tending to stored crops and preserved food, and preparing for the upcoming spring. Livestock needed care, ensuring they had enough feed and were sheltered from the harsh weather.

Labor Intensive: Without modern machinery, all tasks were done by hand or with the help of simple tools and draft animals. This meant that farming and ranching required physical strength and stamina.

Knowledge and Skills: Farmers and ranchers had to possess a deep knowledge of the land, weather patterns, and natural indicators. They needed to know when it was best to plant and harvest, how to rotate crops to prevent soil depletion, and how to deal with pests.

Reliance on Nature: Weather played a huge role in the success or failure of a harvest. A bad season could lead to famine and hardship. As a result, various cultural and religious practices revolved around harvests and prayers for good weather and crop yields.

Economic Structure: Most farmers in a pre-industrial society practiced subsistence farming, where they grew enough food to feed their family and a little extra for trade or sale. Large feudal estates also existed where serfs or peasants worked the land for a noble or landowner.

Livestock: Ranchers or pastoralists had to know how to breed and care for animals. They’d need skills in everything from birthing livestock to shearing sheep to treating diseases.

Tools: The tools available were basic. Plows, often pulled by oxen or horses, wooden or metal hand-tools like hoes, scythes for harvesting, and basic machinery like grindstones for processing grains.

Community: Farming and ranching communities were often tight-knit. They would come together for mutual assistance during harvests or times of need. Barn raisings, where neighbors would assemble to help construct a new barn, are classic examples of this communal spirit.

Market Days: Many farmers took their surplus goods to local markets, trading for goods they couldn’t produce themselves. This was a vital source of income and resources.

Threats: Beyond the weather, farmers had to worry about pests, diseases, bandits or raiders, and sometimes warfare which could see their lands become battlegrounds or be pillaged by armies.

Education: While some farmers and ranchers might be literate and numerate, formal education was less common, especially in remote areas. Knowledge was often passed down orally through generations.

Cultural and Religious Significance: In many pre-industrial cultures, the Earth and its fertility had strong religious connotations. Festivals celebrating planting or harvest, rites to ensure fertility and rituals to placate or thank gods or nature spirits were common.

Life on the Land: The Daily Rhythms and Realities of Pre-Industrial Farming and Ranching

The pre-industrial world offers a glimpse into a life deeply intertwined with the rhythms of nature, a contrast to today’s mechanized and often detached agricultural systems. Central to this bygone era were the farmers and ranchers, whose daily lives oscillated with the changing seasons and who bore witness to the intricate dance between humans and their environment. For these individuals, the sun wasn’t just a celestial body; it was a clock, dictating their daily routines, illuminating their toils, and guiding the ebb and flow of their livelihoods. Every morning heralded a new chapter of tasks, and every season, a unique set of challenges and rewards.

During spring, the world woke up from its winter slumber. The ground thawed, rivers swelled, and the horizon stretched wide and hopeful. Farmers, shaking off the inertia of the colder months, ventured out to till and prepare the soil. Seeds, carefully chosen and stored from the previous harvest, were sown with hopes of good yield. The land was alive with promise but also with the weight of expectations. Every patch of soil turned, and every seed sown was a gamble against unpredictable weather and potential pests. For ranchers, spring meant birthing seasons. Young animals took their first steps, and herders watched diligently, ensuring that both mother and offspring were healthy.

Then came the summer. Fields turned into a sea of green, waving under the persistent sun. While crops reached for the sky, farmers were bent double, weeding and ensuring the plants had enough space and nutrients to thrive. Irrigation, where implemented, required careful management. Ranchers moved their livestock to fresh pastures, ensuring they had ample food and were shielded from the searing heat. Summer was also a time of vigilance, as the threats of pests, from locusts to wolves, became all too real.

As the days began to shorten, autumn heralded the onset of harvest. This was the crescendo of a farmer’s yearly symphony, a time when all hands—old and young, men and women—came together in a collective push. Grains, fruits, and vegetables were picked, threshed, and stored. The golds, ambers, and reds of harvest painted a scene of abundance, but behind it was the unrelenting toil of hands, the sweat of brows, and the fatigue of bodies. Ranchers faced their own harvest of sorts, selecting which animals would be sold or slaughtered for winter provisions.

Winter, often considered a period of rest, was far from a dormant time. While the fields lay fallow, farmers repaired tools, planned for the coming year, and protected their stored produce from rot and pests. Livestock required special attention; they needed shelter from harsh weather and had to be fed from the stored fodder. Amidst these chores, winter also provided an opportunity for families to come together, to share stories, to mend clothes, and to engage in social and community activities.

But beyond the seasonal tasks, the pre-industrial farmer and rancher lived a life deeply woven into the fabric of their community. Markets, fairs, and community gatherings were vital social and economic fixtures. These events were not just about trading goods; they were occasions to exchange news, share innovations in farming techniques, and establish matrimonial alliances.

Furthermore, the spiritual and cultural dimensions of farming and ranching were profound. The land wasn’t just soil; it was an ancestral legacy, a living entity. Many cultures revered deities of harvest, rain, and fertility, underscoring the symbiotic relationship between people and the environment. Festivals marked the planting and harvesting seasons, and rituals sought blessings for bountiful yields.

In essence, the life of a farmer or rancher in the pre-industrial era was a testament to the resilience, innovation, and adaptability of human societies. Their existence, tethered to the land and animals, might seem worlds away from today’s automated and globalized agricultural practices. Yet, their stories, struggles, and successes offer enduring lessons about sustainability, community, and our timeless bond with nature.

The Essence of Agrarian Life in a Pre-Industrial World

Amidst the backdrop of an era defined by simplicity and harmony with the environment, farmers and ranchers stood as the pillars of pre-industrial societies. Their toils shaped the cultural, economic, and social landscapes of their communities. Delving deeper into the facets of their lives unveils the beauty and challenges of an agrarian existence, starkly contrasting the conveniences and detachment of the modern age.

At the very heart of this existence was an unwavering work ethic. The sun’s first rays often found the farmer already in the fields or the rancher tending to his livestock. Days stretched long, marked by a multitude of tasks that demanded not just effort but also knowledge passed down through generations. From preparing the soil and selecting the right seeds to understanding the migratory patterns of herds, every decision bore consequences that could spell the difference between abundance and scarcity.

The absence of industrial machinery and technology meant that the land and its beasts demanded human touch at every turn. Plows were drawn by strong oxen, with the farmer guiding them, feeling the texture of the earth underfoot. Harvesting crops wasn’t done by vast machines but by hands that recognized the right moment for picking. Similarly, ranchers relied on their instincts and observations, herding cattle or sheep with the assistance of trained dogs and horses. These actions did not just require physical strength; they necessitated a deep understanding of and respect for the natural processes. It was a dance between man, beast, and land.

The intensive labor that dominated their lives also shaped their physicality. Calloused hands, sunburnt skin, and muscular frames were common badges of their profession. But beyond the external, their spirits were forged in the furnace of perseverance, patience, and resilience. When droughts parched the land or pests threatened to decimate crops, it was their indomitable spirit that sought solutions, innovated with natural remedies, or simply hoped and prayed for better times.

This profound connection to the land wasn’t just a matter of livelihood; it was a bond of reverence. The soil wasn’t inert; it was alive, nurturing, and, in many ways, sacred. Many pre-industrial societies held rituals and ceremonies to honor the land and seek its blessings. Planting and harvesting weren’t just agricultural events but were accompanied by communal celebrations, songs, and dances. This spiritual dimension enriched the agrarian life, embedding a sense of purpose and gratitude in daily routines.

Moreover, the farmer and rancher’s role extended beyond their fields and pastures. They were the lifeblood of their communities. Markets bustled with their produce, providing food and raw materials essential for survival and trade. Their successes and failures didn’t just affect their families but rippled through entire societies, impacting food prices, trade balances, and even the political stability of regions.

The communal nature of pre-industrial societies also meant that collective efforts were common. Whether it was joining hands for harvest, building barns, or defending against external threats, the interconnectedness of their lives fostered a sense of camaraderie and mutual responsibility. In this environment, values like trust, generosity, and shared knowledge were not just ideals but survival tools.

The pre-industrial farmer and rancher’s life, though marred by challenges and uncertainties, was a testament to human capability, adaptability, and the profound relationship we once shared with the environment. The rhythms of nature dictated their calendars, and their hands bore the stories of seasons past and hopes for the future. Their legacy isn’t just in the fields they cultivated or the animals they reared but in the timeless lessons they offer about sustainability, community, and respect for the natural world. As modern societies grapple with environmental crises and detachment from nature, revisiting and understanding this age-old bond becomes not just an exercise in nostalgia but a blueprint for a harmonious future.

The Arduous Reality of Farming and Ranching in a Pre-Industrial World

In the annals of human history, the epoch of pre-industrialization presents a stark contrast to our present-day realities, especially when viewed through the prism of agriculture. Today, as colossal machines glide effortlessly across vast expanses, sowing and reaping in quantities previously unimaginable, it’s easy to overlook the arduous, hands-on approach that once defined the world of farming and ranching. The farmers and ranchers of yesteryears were more than mere cultivators; they were the heart and muscle of entire societies, maintaining a visceral bond with the land and its creatures.

For these agricultural pioneers, every sunrise heralded a day filled with labor-intensive tasks. The land was not merely a passive canvas awaiting the touch of machinery; it demanded personal attention and tireless effort. Plowing fields was a collaborative endeavor between man and beast, where wooden plows, guided by human hands, were drawn by horses or oxen. These animals, vital cogs in the agricultural wheel, were central to working the land and indicators of a farmer’s wealth and status.

Seeding the fields, too, was a hands-on task. Each seed was meticulously placed, often after considering the soil’s nature, the sun’s alignment, and the local lore that encapsulated centuries of agricultural wisdom. As the crops grew, they required regular tending – from weeding and pest control to ensuring proper irrigation, tasks that necessitated keen observation and constant physical labor.

Harvesting, a particularly labor-intensive phase, was a race against time, reliant on the collective might of communities. Neighbors, family members, and sometimes entire villages would unite, their synchronized efforts aimed at collecting crops at their prime. The physical demands of bending, cutting, threshing, and storing were exhaustive yet vital. Each grain saved was a step away from potential famine, and every harvested field was a testament to human resilience.

Ranchers, too, led lives of ceaseless activity. Herding, feeding, and caring for animals required physical strength and an in-depth understanding of animal behavior. Whether it was leading cattle to new pastures, ensuring access to clean water, or managing births and health issues, a rancher’s life was an intricate ballet of responsibility and vigilance.

While rudimentary by modern standards, the tools that assisted these early agriculturalists were ingeniously designed for efficiency and durability. Crafted from locally available materials like wood, stone, and later, metal, they were often hand-made and bore the unique signature of individual craftsmanship. While they simplified tasks, they still demanded significant human effort, making skill and endurance essential attributes of every farmer and rancher.

But this physically demanding life had its silver linings. The tangible connection between effort and yield fostered a profound appreciation for nature’s bounties. The land wasn’t a mere resource; it was a living, breathing entity deserving respect and gratitude. This relationship was often ritualized, with many cultures celebrating agricultural festivals, marking sowing, reaping, and times of abundance, emphasizing the symbiotic relationship between humans and nature.

Furthermore, the relentless demands of pre-industrial farming and ranching also shaped societal structures. Communities were tightly knit, bound together by mutual dependencies. Shared responsibilities and collective efforts, from barn raisings to communal harvests, were not just economic necessities but also social events, fostering camaraderie and reinforcing social bonds.

In retrospect, the agricultural practices of the pre-industrial era, underscored by physical exertion and a profound connection with nature, offer a humbling reflection on human adaptability and endurance. While modern technology has undeniably brought efficiency and scale to farming, the wisdom, tenacity, and spirit of those early cultivators and herders remain an inspiring testament to humanity’s age-old relationship with the land. The sweat of their brows and the strength of their backs laid the foundation for the agricultural marvels we witness today.

The Intuitive Agriculturists: Farming and Ranching in a Pre-Industrial World

When we envision the pre-industrial farmer or rancher, it’s easy to focus on the evident physical toil that marked their daily existence. However, beneath the sun-hardened exteriors and weathered hands lay a reservoir of wisdom, intuition, and knowledge, accumulated over generations and born from an intimate bond with nature. In an era devoid of advanced meteorological predictions, chemical fertilizers, and pest control solutions, these early agriculturists relied on an intricate understanding of the natural world to guide their practices.

The knowledge base of a pre-industrial farmer was vast and varied. Without the aid of modern soil testing equipment, they developed an intuitive understanding of soil types, qualities, and needs. By merely touching the soil, observing its color, and noting the kind of weeds it supported, a farmer could gauge its fertility and decide what crops would thrive best in it. This ability wasn’t a mystical gift but a skill honed over years of experience and passed down through generations.

Weather patterns, vital to agriculture, were predicted not through apps or news bulletins but by observing nature’s cues. The behavior of animals, the pattern of bird migrations, the appearance of certain insects, and even the color of sunsets served as natural almanacs, foretelling rain, drought, or frost. A shift in the direction of the wind, the formation of clouds, or the ring around the moon – these were all signs that informed the farmer’s decisions.

Given the absence of synthetic fertilizers, crop rotation was an essential practice to maintain soil health and fertility. Farmers understood that different crops took different nutrients from the soil and, conversely, that certain crops, like legumes, could replenish those nutrients. By rotating crops, they ensured varied produce and staved off soil exhaustion. Such practices, which modern agriculture is now revisiting in the name of sustainability, were standard in the pre-industrial era out of sheer necessity.

Pest control was another area where deep knowledge and observation came into play. Without the arsenal of chemical pesticides available today, farmers had to be innovative. They observed the relationships between various plants and insects. Some plants were found to repel pests naturally, leading to early versions of companion planting. Others attracted beneficial insects that preyed on pests. Instead of seeing their fields as mono-cropped entities, farmers of yore often viewed them as ecosystems where balance had to be maintained.

Understanding animal behavior, breeding patterns, and dietary needs was paramount for ranchers. They could identify changes in animal behavior that indicated weather shifts, potential threats, or health issues. This understanding allowed them to make informed decisions about grazing patterns, shelter, and breeding.

It’s crucial to understand that this deep-rooted knowledge wasn’t just a matter of choice but of survival. A failed crop or a diseased herd had dire consequences in a world without the safety nets of insurance or global trade to buffer against local food shortages.

Community played an essential role in this knowledge-sharing ecosystem. Elders, with their wealth of experience, were invaluable repositories of information. Seasonal gatherings, markets, and festivals served as hubs for exchanging insights, techniques, and innovations.

The life of a farmer or rancher in the pre-industrial world was a harmonious blend of hard work and deep wisdom. While seemingly rudimentary, their practices were sustainably sophisticated, rooted in a profound understanding of nature’s rhythms and requirements. As the world grapples with the challenges posed by modern industrial agriculture – from soil degradation to loss of biodiversity – there’s much to learn from the wisdom of these early custodians of the land. They remind us that successful agriculture is as much about respecting nature’s intricacies as it is about reaping its bounties.

Maggie White Video

Magic Meat?

One of my favorite teachers, researchers, scientists, and authors, Valter Longo, author of the book, The Longevity Diet has observed that a vegan diet is the best way to get to a healthy 65 years of age. However, he has also observed that there are diminishing returns on that vegan diet and overall mortality beyond the age of 65. His answer is to incorporate a small piece of fish once a week for greater longevity and overall mortality.

Personally, I am not satisfied with this answer. I want to know why.

On the surface, this seems counterintuitive to me because there is nothing magic about eating meat. Nothing special is found in eating meat that cannot be obtained from plant-based sources. True, we cannot get animal-based collagen from plant sources, but animal-based collagen is not a necessary nutrient. Our body makes its own collagen when provided with sufficient amino acids and other nutrients, like copper, zinc, and vitamin C. All things found in plant-based foods.

So what is it that happens at age 65 that would make meat confer greater overall mortality to an aging population? I am thinking that it has more to do with the production of stem cells and an elevated white blood cell count associated with eating cooked foods referred to as digestive leukocytosis. This occurs when any foods, plant or animal-based enter the body that has been cooked. Eating cooked or overheated foods result in an increase in leukocyte production similar to what we see when the body has suffered an injury or some form of infection. Eating raw foods does not have this effect.

Some people, especially raw vegans, and fruitarians might feel that this justifies a completely uncooked diet, however, that is a conclusion that is not really justified in that the solution is to simply eat a diet of both cooked and raw. Dr. Paul Kouchakoff demonstrated all this in two papers he published back in the 1930s. However, most people only read his first paper on the topic published in 1930 that points out that digestive leukocytosis happens when foods are overcooked. It is his second paper published in 1937 that is only available in French that further explains that eating cooked foods isn’t a problem if one also eats even a small amount, some 10%, of the same foods uncooked. But alas, most people only read the first paper that had been published in English while ignoring the second one that was published later, available only in French.

This leads me to suspect that the answer can be found in a process called hormesis, whereby our body’s immune system is upregulated. That a diet that incorporates certain kinds of cooked foods into our diet to trigger an increased amount of neutrophils, eosinophils, basophils, monocytes, and lymphocytes that then go out into the body resulting in a greater level of regeneration. A cleansing effect if you will. Maybe this is why soups have been loved by many as not only comfort food, but one that makes them feel better when they are suffering the effects of the common cold.

I figure I have another 15 years until I see age 65. I imagine that will be long enough to resolve these questions.

500 Words – Raw Vegan Requiem -873-

I recently spent a full year on a raw vegan journey after I found a group on Facebook that promoted Natural Hygiene that promoted a diet that was not only vegan but one that followed a diet primarily based on fruit and gentle leafy greens. I also decided to remove garlic, onions, caffeine, dark chocolate, even added salt, and bore deeply into eating mostly fruit and salads as suggested by this aforementioned group. The only exception was a small amount of homemade hummus added to my salads in place of dressing. So I guess if someone wanted to nitpick a little they could say that I was only 98% raw vegan. There is too much evidence and data demonstrating that those that live the longest eat legumes on a daily basis. That and I just make good hummus.

I feel it was a worthwhile endeavor that allowed me to learn firsthand a lot about how the human body functions when exposed to a raw vegan lifestyle over a long period of time. Not something a lot of people can say. An its overall cleansing effects on my body were well worth the time and effort. I am grateful for what it did for me and I still believe that it was the right thing to do.

Would I recommend this diet to everyone? Not necessarily. It would depend on the individual and what their diet had been like for the year leading up to their wanting to take on such an endeavor. If they had been a strict vegetarian for a year first then by all means. I wouldn’t see any problem in making the shift. If they were omnivores, I would suggest transitioning to a vegetarian diet for a good six months beforehand. I believe healthy and gradual transitions are the best way to find success in dietary changes.

These days I am no longer a raw vegan for a number of reasons, but most importantly is because there is no evidence that it is the best way to go about getting to 120 years of age with a body that looks and feels no more than 34. Aside from the fact that there is no evidence to suggest that such a hygienic Edenic diet would do such, my main concern with the raw vegan or even fruitarian diet is that it is too easy on the body ultimately resulting in a more fragile state of existence, premature decline, and lower mortality overall.

Humans did not become the dominant species by eating a perfect or overly hygienic diet. On the contrary, it is because of much adversity and stress in our lives that brought us to where we are today.

An all-fruit diet in today’s world is problematic because we just don’t have access to enough variety on any given day to have a wide enough diversity of nutrients to make it even feasible to get enough of what we need, in the way our body would need it for our body to thrive.

And then there is the overly-hygienic state that an all-fruit diet will land your body in that would ultimately leave you with a microbiome that has diminished diversity which is not a good place to be. Our body and mind need to be exposed to small amounts and diversity of stress on a regular basis to maintain a strong state that can better deal with unforeseen future adverse situations. An overly hygienic, or sterile state is not a good place for a human or any other organic life form to be found outside of a sterile or hygienic environment. And none of us live in a cleanroom. We live in a diverse world filled with much adversity and as such our body needs exposure to adversity and even small amounts of environmental stress to remain anti-fragile and strong when unforeseen future adversity should arise.

To be clear, I am still a vegan by definition because it provides us with the greatest opportunity to make it to 120 years with a body that looks and feels no more than 34. However, I don’t believe that we need to limit ourselves to a raw diet and that adding certain plant-based foods that need to be cooked first is an important part of greater longevity and a fuller life experience. They provide a necessary and beneficial derivation through mild adversity that strengthens the body overall.

So rather than arguing about which version of vegan diet is better for every individual, I can say with all certainty that there are other principles that are more important than a list of approved foods that exclude things like cooked legumes, sweet potatoes, and cruciferous veggies. Clearly, some plant-based/whole food is better at cleansing the body than others, but there does come a point where a complex living system can become too hygienic and the needle of health starts pointing in a negative direction. A Natural Hygiene diet is the best for cleansing, but not good for overall longevity and to suggest that it can be a permanent lifestyle is overreaching. A bridge too far.

Adversity and variation are what build a strong and robust body that will make it further down the road while avoiding any states of disease.

Anti-fragility and Hormesis

What Doesn’t Kill You Makes You What?

Is it possible that a random bacon double cheeseburger could ultimately make a vegan live a longer, healthier life? What if a raw vegan or even a frugivore could live ten to twenty years longer by simply eating something that is not within their strict framework every once in a while? Is it possible that consuming a diet that is too easy on the system is actually worse than one that is not?

I am beginning to wonder. Because complex organic operating systems are weakened, sometimes even unto an early demise where there is a lack of stress. And as we have seen over the last few years, 2019-2022, Mother Nature does not favor the weak. On the contrary, she favors the strong.

I can’t imagine each and everyone one of us hasn’t heard this many times over. Kelly Clarkson made a hit song with this title in 2011. It’s not just a catchy song, it is also a very true statement within a complex system that has the ability to adapt. In the scientific and medical worlds, it is referred to as anti-fragility or hormesis.

In Greek mythology, there was a story about a creature with nine heads called Hydra. The monster would occasionally emerge to stir up the people and livestock of the mythical land of Lerna. When someone attempted to defeat this creature by cutting off one of its heads they would find that two more grew back in its place. What didn’t kill Hydra made him stronger.

This concept can also be seen in the plant world through a process called topping in which the main stalk of the plant is cut resulting in the plant redirecting its energy and growth hormones out to the side branches resulting in the branches growing more robustly in an outward fashion instead of continuing skyward. The intended result is a plant that produces more fruit.

And this is why you see so many humans working out. What doesn’t kill us does quite literally make us stronger. You see, some things benefit from a shock to the system that pushes a smooth running organic machine out of balance. Even our bones grow stronger when put under stress by physical activity. But there does come a point where that stress can become too much and the benefits are no longer as robust. This brings me to my another question I will address later. How much is too much?

So, back to the double bacon cheeseburger question. Could an occasional curveball actually be better for the human body than a perfectly executed raw vegan diet? It would seem so. Even Dr. Valter Longo, author of The Longevity Diet notes that those who indulge in a small amount of fish once per week ultimately live longer healthy lives than those on a strict, 100% uncooked whole-food/plant-based diet. Nonetheless, he still stresses the importance of maintaining a 95% whole-food/plant-based diet. But I don’t really remember ever hearing him clearly state what that mechanism of action is by adding a little fish to the diet.

My feeling is that it boils down to the hormetic/anti-fragile effects of the animal food product acting as a small amount of poison that kicks our body’s immune system into high gear. That just a few ounces of fish once per week causes our body to produce an excess amount of neutrophils, eosinophils, basophils, monocytes, and lymphocytes that then go out into the body to fix the problem.

And this is where the magic happens.

Not only is the specific poison addressed by all of those amazing immune cells that our body produces for times just like these, but they also go about cleaning up a whole host of other lesser things that were flying just below the radar at a subclinical level improving the overall health of the human body. Cleaning up other senescent cells that are no longer beneficial to life, but not quite problematic enough to trigger an immune response. Individually, those senescent cells won’t take out the creature(us), but over time they will and do build up to a level that eventually precipitates a health crisis that most aren’t even aware of until we start experiencing systemic inflammation requiring an interventional response.