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Less filling!
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Nothing can quench a
powerful thirst like a tall, frosty mug of urine!
Okay, I admit that's a sentence I never
expected to write, let-alone speak, but, in the words of Bob
Dylan, the times, they are a-changin'. Though it's unlikely we'll
see Michael Jordan or Andre Aggasi pitching "Urine-ade" any
day soon, drinking one's own urine is becoming popular among many
practitioners of holistic healing in the United States and Great
Britain. Devotees of the "home-brewed" elixir claim health
benefits ranging from a cure for tuberculosis, to defeating jet lag__which
should be welcome news to weary business travelers.
According to a 1994 article in Newsweek,
this ancient practice__known as "amaroli" in
tantric yoga__is credited by it's followers for boosting the
immune system. One of the most vocal of the pee-peddlers is Martin Lara,
who lectures on the life-altering benefits of "uropathy" to
AIDS patients. Though Mr. Lara holds no medical degree, he is a
certified plumber, which, I suppose, makes him eminently more qualified
to discuss urine than a lay-person such as myself.
I claim no plumbing expertise of either the
internal or external variety, yet I find any assertion that I would
benefit from re-ingesting substances my body worked furiously to rid
itself of, as hard to swallow as the acclaimed tinkle-tonic.
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Tastes great!
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I don't care if
science proves wee will vastly improve our health; I will never be found
rating the color, body and bouquet of a 1967 Cabernet Glenn. Having
never imbibed a recycled refresher, and with no chance of indulging in
this lifetime, my experience with Miller High Life will have to serve as
my lone venture in urine tasting.
When it comes to urinary-tract-garbage
guzzling, my views are still mainstream. According to yoga teacher
Vedanta Saraswati, "Westerners in general are awfully funny about
things that come out of orifices."
Disciples of the practice claim it's been
providing health benefits with no bad side effects for centuries. Gandhi
drank his own waste for years, yet there isn't a single reference in any
history book of his breath having anything to do with the British
abandoning India.
Could it be that Dorothy's odyssey to Oz was
actually a health-seeking expedition tantamount to a pilgrimage to
Lourdes? Were they seeking medicinal help from a tantric yogi, so
knowledgeable in the powers of urine-quaffing that he was known as
"the Whiz?"
We know that urine comes from the
fountain-of-youth, I will attest to that as the father of a bed-wetter,
but drinking it will cure you of only one thing__a social
life.
As long as tipplers of pee-pee-potion do it behind
locked doors, I will never complain. My only fear is that determined
devotees will attempt to force-feed the unsuspecting public through
subterfuge. It's a shame that I will never again enjoy a bowl of leek
soup.
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