ICYMI, Part XIII
Our organs are kind of hard to miss. But researchers from Washington University School of Medicine in St. Louis, publishing their findings in Nature, say they've found what amounts to a new immune organ inside our skulls.
The researchers discovered lymph node-like structures in the bone marrow of mice skulls that seem to act as specialized immune safe spaces for the brain. The research builds on earlier findings that showed tiny channels connecting the brain, its protective membranes, and the skull.
Those channels let material from the brain reach the skull's marrow. From there, the researchers found structures resembling the germinal centers usually found in lymph nodes, where immune cells multiply and prepare antibodies for battle against invaders.
The researchers then tested what happens in the brain when it actually needs to use these little warriors. In mice with glioblastoma, disrupting the immune structures caused tumors to grow faster and reduced survival. When they delivered immune-boosting proteins through a gel applied under the scalp, the skull's immune centers created stronger antitumor responses, and the mice lived longer.
This could one day lead to the development of, let's say, a brain cancer treatment where a tumor is dealt with via hydrogel applied under the scalp instead of a risky brain surgery. Of course, for now, this is all just research involving mice. But if the science holds up and can be scaled up to humans, we may have a new way to treat brain cancer, and maybe even neurological diseases like Alzheimer's and Parkinson's.
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On 8/10/26 I made the sojourn to Verizon (Celluar Sales) on 16th St. I made it somewhere around a block before I was approached without solicitation by fenheads stalking passerbys at St. Catherine’s church on the corner of 14th & Washington:
“Hey bruh, I found you. Hey! Hey! I got you! Yo!”
When I finally got downtown, exasperated by the white hot tension in my knuckles and the possibility of heat death/hasty flight from a murder scene being a concrete possibility, I probably sounded like a lunatic, trying to explain my ongoing frustration with this bullshit Google Pixel 10. Nikolai was working the booth and uninterested in breaking the conversation with his girlfriend in Moscow/Kiev. His laissez faire approach and high waisted shorts made me realize no one reads my posture as a road hazard sign; my focus is straight ahead for nothing but the journey and here I was waiting for another credit on my overdue bill. My legs were shaking and the unquenched rage felt like heartburn; society further crumbled under the Gen z staredowns, rude behavior, and an ongoing plea for a punch in the fucking mouth.
“Man, I have epilepsy and I’m feeling some auras from the heat and your unwillingness to help me here.”
“You need to calm down. You’re okay.”
“I’m not okay. Do you even know what epilepsy is? You want to see me have a seizure?”
“I know what epilepsy is, I have family members that have epilepsy.”
“You don’t have family with this. That’s bullshit. I really don’t like this rapport, I need to speak to a manager.”
“He’s out until tomorrow.”
“Bro, I need to talk to someone about my phone. Can you just look up my number and scan the notes? This is ridiculous.”
“I don’t wish to help you.”
After 2 hours on the phone with Verizon support and one headache prior to a series of gran mal seizures, it was Friday, I was reconnected, Jill, Misha and I were walking Santa Fe Drive’s 1st Friday Street takeover, surrounded by capoeira demos, careening through 9 Galleries studios, and admiring Karin Kempe’s gold leaf paintings before limping back to my apartment and leaving each other breathless at 4am. I was hung up on preparing STAR formatted replies to a couple of scheduled interviews for jobs below my skillset, checking the ‘lower 3rd’ captions on AEW Dynamite for a semblance of a message from the Gods of the enslaved, Shango’s lightning tongue rambling parables in my left ear and under duress from yet another paid sponsorship. I can’t admit to being a closet smoker because I’m habitually breathing smoke in the face of what is deemed imp(era)ort(ive)ant. My battles with vertigo and a falling gut sensation may back me into corners, but it’s nothing I can’t dance my way out of;
I can safely say I lack the ability to burn away my mountain of mental affliction without optimal carbohydrates, a communal pulse, Fudo Myo & 3 eyes taunt me at every turn. I laugh with the cadence of skulls hidden beneath wisdom and raw energy:
I’m going to pull this together.
***
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