Maynard S. Clark

Can exercise and anti-inflammatories fend off aging? A study aims to find out New research is underway to test whether a combination of high-intensity interval training and generic medicines can slow down aging and fend off age-related diseases. Here's how it might work.

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Plants have protein. It’s not a debate, it’s a fact. But more importantly, plant-based protein is much better for you and the planet. Not only do plants have protein, they have plenty of it! Plus, it’s good for you, good for the planet, and oh so delicious. Trust us, you won’t miss the meat. Talk about quality protein!

A rift in MAGA has top Heritage Foundation officials leaving to join with Mike Pence The exit of more than a dozen staffers follows turmoil at Heritage and the larger conservative movement over the role of right-wing influencers who've promoted antisemitic and other extremist ideas.

It’s amazing how much we already knew. The connection between diet, nutrition, and disease is ancient wisdom, documented in texts from Greece to China. We haven't discovered something new, we've just forgotten the old truths. It's time to remember what our ancestors knew about the power of food. 📜🍎

Join us for our BVS Holiday Buffet Dinner
Dine-In AND Take-Out Options
Thursday, December 25, 2025
Three seatings for a generous, luscious buffet menu at
Ramen O' Bowl Vegan Cafe in Cambridge
Details and signup here:
https://secure.campaigner.com/csb/Public/show/dyd0-2zx6di--1bv8al-7feto1m7

“The Architecture of Belief”
A philosophical rhyme for seekers of truth

I predict that I will believe,
Though truths may flicker, shift, and leave.
What seems like steel may turn to mist,
Yet still, I raise my earnest fist—
Not in anger, not in war,
But to knock on wisdom’s door.

From childhood’s faith in sky and sand,
To reason’s charts and logic’s hand,
We build our minds on shifting ground—
Some truths profound, some merely sound.
We seek, we test, we sometimes fall—
And ask if truth exists at all.

Belief is not a stagnant stone,
But scaffolding we call our own.
We nail it up with what we’ve read,
And brace it with the things we've said.
Each doubt becomes a needed brace,
Each question carves out open space.

In science halls with microscopes,
We measure fact, dissect our hopes.
We falsify, we replicate,
And still, belief must navigate—
The tides of proof, the peer-reviewed,
Yet always through a human mood.

In courtrooms with their oaths and swears,
Where justice leans on legal stairs,
Belief is weighed in witness eyes—
Is this the truth, or just disguise?
We sift through stories, facts, and clues,
To judge what's real—and what we choose.

In temples, mosques, and silent pews,
Belief wears deeper, older shoes.
It sings in chants, in sacred texts,
In questions no one dares to text.
It swells in awe, in birth, in death,
In every gasp of holy breath.

Yet what of us, the ones who think,
Who pause at every cognitive brink?
The thinkers, feelers, skeptics, seers,
Who change our minds across the years—
We learn to trust, then to revise,
To trade conclusions, not just prize.

Philosophy—our friend and foil—
Reminds us truth can twist and coil.
What’s “known” is often context-bound,
And still, we dig—because it’s sound.
The act of knowing might be flawed,
But not to seek feels doubly odd.

We ask: is truth a perfect sphere?
Or something closer, year by year?
Is it outside or in the self?
In dusty books or mystic shelf?
Can it be touched—or just approached?
Is every theory soon encroached?

The standard shifts, but not the aim—
To honor truth and not just claim.
We build our mental jurisprudence
On testable, repeated prudence.
Belief, then, is not faith alone—
But how we shape what we are shown.

To live in search is to be free,
Not anchored fast, but like a tree—
Rooted deep in tested ground,
Yet reaching where no roof is found.
We prune beliefs when seasons change,
And welcome truths from wider range.

So ask, revise, reject, receive—
The architecture of believe
Is not a fortress cast in stone,
But scaffolding we've always known—
Constructed with the best we’ve got,
Then bettered when the old proves not.

Yes—
I predict that I will believe,
And more: I’ll ask, I'll seek, I'll grieve—
For every falsehood I once kissed,
And every deeper truth I’ve missed.
But forward still, with love and mind,
I’ll judge, I’ll doubt, I’ll grow—I’ll find.

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