“Is it not living in a continual mistake to look upon diseases, as we do now, as separate entities, which must exist, like cats und dogs, instead of looking at them as conditions, like a dirty and a clean condition, and just as much under our control; or rather as the reactions of a kindly nature, against the conditions in which we have placed ourselves?”
Florence Nightingale, 1860 (seventeen years before Pasteur announced his germ theory), cited in Pasteur: The Germ Theory Exploded by R. B. Pearson
Even a single discovery as striking as those made by Naessens in the five interlinked areas detailed in the previous chapter could, by itself, justifiably be held remarkable. That Naessens was able to make all five discoveries, each in what can be termed its own discipline, might seem to be a feat taken from the annals of science fiction.
And that is exactly the point of view adopted by the medical authorities of the province of Quèbec. Worse still, those same authorities have branded Naessens an out-and-out charlatan, calling his camphor-derived 7 14-X product fraudulent and the whole of his theory about the origin of degenerative disease and the practice of its treatment, not to add the rest of his “New biology,” no more than “quackery.”
Spearheading the attack was Augustin Roy, a doctor of medicine, but one who – like Morris Fishbein, M.D., for many years “Tsar” of the American Medical Association -actually practiced medicine for only a brief period of his life.
How did a researcher such as Gaston Naessens, endowed with genius, come to land in so dire a situation? Let us briefly review some of the story of his life and work, about which, during repeated trips to Rock Forest from the United States, I came to learn more and more.
Gaston Naessens was born on 16 March 1924, in Roubaix, in northern France, near the provincial capital of Lille, the youngest child of a banker who died when his son was only eleven years old. In very early childhood, Gaston was already showing precocity as an inventor. At the age of five, he built a little moving automobile-type vehicle out of a “Mechano” set and powered it with a spring from an old alarm clock.
Continuing to exhibit unusual manual dexterity, a few years later Gaston constructed his own home-built motorcycle, then went on to fashion a mini-airplane large enough to carry him aloft. It never flew, for his mother, worried he would come to grief, secretly burned it on the eve of its destined takeoff.
After graduation from the Collège Universitaire de Marcen Baroeul, a leading prep school, Gaston began an intensive course in physics, chemistry, and biology at the University of Lille. When France was attacked and occupied by Nazi forces during World War II, young Gaston together with other fellow students was evacuated to southern France, where, in exile near Nice, he had the highly unusual opportunity to receive the equivalent of a full university education at the hands of professors also displaced from Lille.
By the war’s end, Gaston had been awarded a rare diploma from the Union Nationale Scientifique Française, the quasi-official institution under whose roof the displaced students pursued their intensive curriculum. Unfortunately, in an over-sight that has cost him dearly over the years, Naessens did not bother to seek an “equivalence” from the new republican government set up by General Charles de Gaulle. He thus, ever since, has been accused of never having received an academic diploma of any kind.
Inspired by his teachers, and of singular innovative bent, Gaston, eschewing further formal education – “bagage universitaire” as he calls it – set forth on his own to develop his microscope and begin his research into the nature of disease. In this determination, he was blessed by having what in French is called a jeunesse dorèe, a gilded childhood – “born with a silver spoon in his mouth,” as the English equivalent has it. His mother afforded him all that was needed to equip his own postwar laboratory at the parental home.
His disillusion in working in an ordinary laboratory for blood analysis spurred Gaston into deciding to go free-lance as a researcher. Even his mother was worried about Gaston’s unorthodox leanings. She clearly understood that her son was unhappy with all he had read and been taught. As he was to put it: “She told me what any mother would tell her son: `It’s not you who will make any earth-shaking discoveries, for there have been many, many researchers working along the same lines for decades. ‘But she never discouraged me, never prevented me from following my own course, and she helped me generously, financially speaking.”
Gaston Naessens knew that there was something in the blood that eluded definition. It had been described in the literature as crasse sanguine (dross in the blood], and Naessens had been able to descry it, if only in a blurry way, in the microscopic instruments up to then available to him. What was needed was a brand new microscope, one that could see “farther.” He thought he knew how to build one and, at twenty-one, he determined to set about doing so.
In the design of the instrument that would open a vista onto a new biological world, Naessens was able to enjoin the technical assistance of German artisans in the village of Wetzlar, in Germany, where the well-known German optical company Leitz had been located before the war. The artisans were particularly helpful in checking Naessens’s original ideas on the arrangement of lenses and mirrors. The electronic manipulation of the light source itself, however, was entirely of Gaston’s own private devising. When all aspects of the problem seemed to have been solved, Naessens was able to get the body of his new instrument constructed by Barbier-Bernard et Turenne, technical specialists and military contractors near Paris.
Readers may fairly ask why Naessens’s “Twenty-first-century” instrument, which has been called a “somatoscope” due to its ability to reveal the somatid, has never been patented and manufactured for wide use. To understand the difficulty, we should “fast forward” to 1964, the year Naessens arrived in Canada. Hardly having found his footing on Canadian soil, he received a handwritten letter, dated 3 May, from one of the province’s most distinguished physicists, Antoine Aumont, who worked in the Division for Industrial Hygiene of the Quèbec Ministry of Health.
Aumont, who had read about Naessens’s special microscope in the press, had taken the initiative of visiting Naessens in his small apartment in Duvernay, near Montreal, to see, and see through, the instrument with his own eyes. Aumont wrote:
Many thanks for having accorded me an interview that impressed me far more than I can possibly describe.
I have explained to you why my personal opinions must not be considered as official declarations. But, after thinking over all that you showed, and told me, during my recent visit, I have come to unequivocal conclusions on the physical value of the instrumentation you are using to pursue your research.
As I told you, if my knowledge of physics and mathematics can be of service to you, I would be very glad to put them at your disposition.
It can be deduced that Aumont’s enthusiasm for what he had seen caused a stir in the Quèbec Ministry of Health, for, on 17 July, Naessens received an official letter from that office stating that the minister was eager to have his microscope “officially examined” if its inventor would “furnish in writing details concerning this apparatus, including all its optical, and other, particularities, as well as its powers of magnification, so that experts to be named by the minister can evaluate its unique properties.”
In reply to this letter, Naessens’s lawyer sent a list of details as requested and stated: “You will, of course, understand that it is impossible for Monsieur Naessens to furnish you, in correspondence, the complete description of a highly novel microscope which is, moreover, unprotected by any patent.” Then, to explain why no patent had yet been granted, he added a key phrase: “since its mathematical constants have, up to the present, not been elucidated in spite of a great deal of tiresome work performed in that regard.” In other words, it seemed that Aumont and his colleagues had been unable to explain the superiority of the microscope in terms of all the known laws of optics and it still seems that, so far, no one else has been able to do so.
There have been interesting recent reports on new microscopes being developed that apparently rival the magnification powers of Naessens’s somatoscope. It would seem, however, that the 150 angstroms of resolution achieved by Naessens’s instrument has not yet been matched.
The Los Angeles based World Research Foundation’s flyer, presenting its autumn (1990) conference “New Directions for Medicine … Focusing on Solutions,” announces the development of an Ergonom – 400 microscope, used by a German Heilpraktiker, or healer, Bernhard Muschlien, who paid a visit to Naessens’s laboratory in 1985. While his microscope is apparently capable of achieving 25,000-fold magnification, its stated resolution is 100 nanometers (1000 angstroms), or several orders of magnitude less than the 150 angstroms developed with the somatoscope.*
*One nanometer is one-billionth of a meter; one angstrom is ten-billionths of a meter, or one-tenth of a nanometer.
In the July 1990 issue of Popular Science, an article, “Super Scopes,” refers to an extraordinary new technology in microscopy engineered at Cornell University under the direction of Professor Michael Isaacson, and also in Israel. The technology uses not lenses but apertures smaller than the wavelengths of visible light to achieve high magnification. Isaacson is quoted as saying: “Right now, we can get about 40 nanometers (400 angstroms) of resolution,” though he hopes to heighten that “power” to 100 angstroms “down the road.” The 150 angstroms capacity built into Naessens’s microscope over forty years ago still seems to lead the field.
Returning to the biography of Naessens, during the 1940s, the precocious young biologist began to develop novel anti-cancer products that had exciting new positive effects. The first was a confection he named “GN-24” for the initial letters of his first and last names, and for 1924, the year of his birth. Because official medicine had long considered cancerous cells to be basically “fermentative”, in nature, reproducing by a process that, while crucial to malting good wine from grape juice, produces no such salutary effect in the human body, Naessens’s new product incorporated an “antifermentative” property. The train of his thinking, biologically or bio-chemically speaking, will not be here elaborated lest this account become too much of a “scientific treatise.” What can be mentioned is that the new product, GN-24, sold in Swiss pharmacies, had excellent results when administered by doctors to patients with various forms of cancer.
As but one example of these results, Naessens cited to me the case of his own brother-in-law, on the executive staff of the famed Paris subway system, the Mètropolitain. In 1949, this relative, the husband of a now ex-wife’s sister, was suffering through the terminal phase of stomach cancer and had been forced into early retirement. After complete recuperation from his affliction, he returned to work. Only recently, Naessens, who had lost contact with him for years, was informed that he was alive and well.
Another 1949 case was that of Germaine Laruelle, who was stricken with breast cancer plus metastases to her liver. A ghastly lesion that had gouged out the whole of the left section of her chest had caused her to go into coma when her family beseeched Naessens to begin his treatment. After recovering her health, fifteen years later, she voluntarily came to testify on behalf of Naessens, who, as we shall presently see, had been put under investigation by the French Ordre des Mèdecins (Medical Association). She also allowed press photographers to take pictures of the scars on the left side of her breast-denuded chest. In 1969, twenty years after her initial treatment, she died of a heart attack.
Seeking a more imposing weapon against cancer, Naessens next turned in the direction of a serum. This he achieved by hyper-immunizing a large draft horse as a result of injecting the animal with cancer-cell cultures, thus forcing it to produce antibodies in almost industrial quantities. Blood withdrawn from the horse’s veins containing these antibodies, when purified, was capable of fighting the ravages of cancer. It proved to have therapeutic action far more extensive than that obtained by GN-24, and led to a restraint or reversal of the cancerous process, not only in cases of tumors but also with various forms of leukemia. Many patients clandestinely treated by their doctors with the new serum, called Anablast (Ana, “without,” and blast, “cancerous cells”), were returned to good health.
One patient, successfully so treated, was to play a key role in Naessens’s life. This was Suzanne Montjoint, then just past forty years of age, who, in 1960, developed a lump the size of a pigeon’s egg in her left breast, which, over the next year, grew to become as large as a grapefruit. After the breast itself was surgically removed, Montjoint underwent a fifty-four-day course of radiation that caused horrible third-degree bums all over her chest. Within six months, she began to experience severe pain in her lower back.
Chemical examination revealed that the original cancer had spread to her fifth lumbar vertebra. More radiation not only could not alleviate the now excruciating pain, but caused a blockage in the functioning of her kidneys and bladder. When doctors told her husband she had only a week or so to live, Suzanne said to him, “I still have strength left to kill myself … but, tomorrow, I may not have it anymore.”
Summoned by the husband, one of whose friends had told him about the biologist, Naessens began treating Madame Montjoint, who, by then, had lapsed into a semicoma. Within four days, all her pains disappeared and she had regained clarity of mind. By April 1962, after an examination of her blood at his microscope, Naessens declared that the somatid cycle in Suzanne Montjoint’s blood had returned to normal. As she later told press reporters, “My recovery was no less than a resurrection!”
When these successful treatments, plus many others, came to the attention of French medical authorities, Naessens was twice brought before the bar of justice, first for the “illegal practice of medicine,” next for the “illegal practice of pharmacy.” On both occasions, he was heavily fined, his laboratory sealed, and most of its equipment confiscated, though, happily, he was able to preserve his precious microscope.
With all the harassment he was undergoing, while at the same time saving the lives of patients whose doctors could afford them little, or no, hope for recovery, Gaston Naessens was almost ready to emigrate from his mother country and find a more congenial atmosphere in which to pursue his work, with the privacy and anonymity that he had always cherished and still longs for. An opportunity to do so came when he was invited by doctors in a community that, if it was not a foreign country, might, like Quèbec in North America, seem to be one. The locale in question was the Mediterranean Island of Corsica, whose inhabitants speak a dialect more akin to Italian than to French. With a long history of occupation by various invaders before it actually became part of the French Republic, its population has ever since been possessed of a revolutionary streak that, on occasion, fuels an urge toward secession from the “motherland.”
In Corsica, Naessens established a small research laboratory in the village of Prunette, on the southwest tip of the island. What happened next, in all its full fury, cannot be told here. Reported in two consecutive issues of the leading Parisian illustrated weekly Paris-Match, the story would require, for any adequate telling, two or more chapters in a much longer book.
Suffice it to say that, having developed a cure for various forms of degenerative disease, Naessens saw his ivory tower invaded by desperate patients from all over the world who had learned of his treatment when a Scots Freemason, after hearing about it during a Corsican meeting with international members of his order, leaked them to the press in Edinburgh. Within a week, hundreds of potential patients were flying into Ajaccio, the island’s capital, some of them from as far away as Czechoslovakia and Argentina.
The deluge immediately unleashed upon Naessens the wrath of the French medical authorities, who began a long investigation in the form of what is known in France as an Instruction – called in Quèbec an Enquête prèliminaire – a kind of “investigative trial” before a more formal one.
All the “ins and outs” of this long jurisprudential process, thousands of pages of transcripts about which still repose in official Parisian archives, must, however regretfully, be left out of this narrative. Its denouement was that Gaston Naessens, together with key components of his microscope preserved on his person, left his native land in 1964 to fly to Canada, a country whose medical authorities he believed to be far more open to new medical approaches and horizons than those in France. His abrupt departure from the land of his birth was facilitated by a high-ranking member of France’s top police organ, the Suretè Nationale, whose wife, Suzanne Montjoint, Naessens had successfully treated.
Hardly had Naessens set foot on Canadian soil than he was faced with difficulties, in fact a “scandal,” almost as, if not just as, serious as the one he had just left behind. During the French Instruction proceedings in 1964, one Renè Guynemer, a Canadian “war hero” of uncertain origin and profession, had accosted Naessens in his Paris domicile to beg him to come to Canada in order to treat his little three-year-old son, Renè Junior, who was dying of leukemia.
Though puzzled about a certain lack of “straightforwardness” in the supplicant, Naessens, ever willing to help anyone in distress, and with the approbation and assistance of the Canadian ambassador to France, immediately flew to Montrèal, where he hoped, as agreed by Guynemer père, to be able to treat fils in complete discretion. Upon his arrival at Montrèal’s Dorval Airport, however, Naessens was aghast to see a horde of representatives of both the printed and visual media, creating, in anticipation of his arrival, what amounted to a virtual mob scene.
The Quèbec “Medical College” had, at the time, agreed, for “humanitarian” reasons, to allow the treatment of the Guynemer child, in spite of the fact that Anablast had not been licensed for use in Canada. Various tests, lasting for several weeks, were made on the product at Montrèal’s well-known microbiological Institut Armand Frappier to confirm the presence of gamma globulin in it, the presence of which purportedly thorough French examinations had failed to detect.
Virtually at death’s door, the Guynemer child was said to have been given nine injections of Anablast. Naessens himself was never given official confirmation that the injections had actually been administered. Nor was he permitted to make any examination of the little patient’s blood at his microscope, or even to meet him face to face. After the little boy succumbed, the Quèbec press exploded with stories that, in their luridness, matched the ones that had been appearing all over France after the Corsican “debacle.”
Some of the mysteries of the “Guynemer connection” will likely never come to light. Only later did it become clear that the true name of the leukemic child’s father was actually Lamer, a man who had claimed that, in past years, he had been an officer in the Royal Canadian Air Force and a “secret agent” attached to the French “underground” during World War II. To the Naessenses, the question has always remained: If he was an “agent,” then for whom, or for what?
In the spring of 1965, Naessens journeyed to France for his trial. When he returned to Quèbec in the autumn of that year, he retired from the public scene to live incognito in Oka, a Montrèal suburb, with a newfound friend, Hubert Lamontagne, owner of a business selling up-to-date electronic devices, whom he had met while looking for electrical components for his microscope in 1964. As a person skilled in electronics, Naessens was able to be of great assistance to his host, who also operated a large “repair shop” throughout the winter and the following summer, when, on tour with a troop of comedians, he was put in charge of solving all the acoustical problems in the many provincial cabarets and theaters hosting the troop’s performances. Deprived, for several years, of any support to pursue his life goals, Naessens was constrained to utilize his skills as a “Mr. Fixit,” able to repair almost anything from automobile engines to rectifiers.
In 1971, Naessens had a stroke of luck, perhaps the most important of his career, when, through another friend, he was introduced to, and came under the protective wing of, an “angel” who saw in Naessens the kind of genius he had for a long time been waiting to back.
That “angel” was the late David Stewart, head of Montreal’s prestigious MacDonald-Stewart Foundation, which for many years had funded, as it still continues to fund, orthodox cancer research. Despondent about the recent death from cancer of a close friend, and in serious doubt that any of the cancer research he had so long supported would ever produce any solution, Stewart’s guiding precept and motto was “In the search for a remedy for cancer, we shall leave no stone unturned.” The philanthropist therefore decided personally to back Naessens’s research. But after setting up a laboratory for the biologist on the Ontario Street premises of the well-known MacDonald Tobacco Company, which Stewart’s father had inherited from its founder, tobacco magnate Sir William MacDonald, David Stewart came under such violent criticism by leaders of orthodox cancerology that he advised Naessens to move his research to a low-profile provincial retreat.
Having, by that time, established a “liaison” with his bride-to-be, Françoise Bonin, whose parents lived in Sherbrooke, Naessens was, by 1972, able to take over the elder Bonin’s summerhouse on the banks of the Magog River in Rock Forest, “winterize” it, and establish a well-equipped laboratory in its basement. And there, the Naessenses, who were married in 1976, have ever since been located. Of his wife, Naessens has said to me, “She was persuaded from the very start about the intrinsic value of my research and at once saw the truth of it. Just as then, so now, years later, she continues her loyal assistance to get this truth out. Some ask if it’s moral support. Yes, it could be called that. We have the same kind of attitudes about things. Both of us, for instance, believe that if something new produces good results, it’s got to be pursued to the bitter end. This is not ambition, but moral honesty. When one gets to know her, one realizes that she doesn’t just repeat the things I think and say, but is convinced about them because of what she has seen and experienced.”
Because legal restrictions applying to foundations and their grants prevented David Stewart from transmitting monies directly to Naessens, the foundation director arranged for them to be funneled via the Hôtel Dieu – a leading hospital affiliated with the Universitè de Montreal that specializes in orthodox cancer treatment and research. Accused by Augustin Roy as a “quack,” Naessens has consequently had his work modestly funded by checks made out by a hospital at the heart of one of Canada’s cancer establishment’s most prestigious fund-granting institutions. No more anomalous a situation exists anywhere in the worldwide multibillion-dollar cancer industry.
Given the importance of the foundation’s assistance, it is all the more curious that Augustin Roy had not made the slightest mention of the foundation’s loyal support of the biologist over the years. Instead, at a press conference held after Naessens’s arrest to present traditional medicine’s case against Naessens, Roy, perhaps unknowingly, demonstrated the “Catch-22” that any “alternative” medical, research, or “frontier” scientist faces. Roy stated that if Naessens were a “true” scientist he would have long since submitted his results to proper authorities for check, but when asked by journalists whether the Quèbec medical community had thoroughly investigated the biologist’s claims, Roy inscrutably replied, “That’s not our job.” In answer to another reporter’s query about the assertions of many cancer patients that the Naessens treatment had completely cured their affliction, Roy added, “I just can’t understand the naivety and imbecility of some people.”
To get a more complete idea of the full impact of Roy’s attitude with respect to a brand new treatment and patients benefiting from it, we here excerpt some of his additional statements made during an interview on McGill University’s Radio Station in the summer of 1989.
When, to open the interview, Roy was asked his opinion about what the interviewer termed a “remarkable new anticancer product, 714-X,” the medical administrator replied, “I have been aware of Monsieur Naessens for twenty-five years. In 1964, he arrived from France with a so-called cancer treatment, Anablast, the very same medicinal he’s now using under another name – 714-X.”
That anyone in a position as elevated as Roy’s could publicly propagate so obvious an error is surprising. For Anablast, which, as we have seen, is a serum, has nothing to do with 714-X, a biochemical product. Yet here was the head of the Quebec medical establishment falsely stating that 714-X, developed over thirteen years in Canada, was nothing but the older French product bearing a new name, a statement tirelessly, and erroneously, repeated by journalists in the press.
As for Naessens himself, Roy told his radio audience: “That man’s professional knowledge is equal to zero! You should know that he has, behind him, in France, an imposing, even `heavy,’ past involving serious judicial procedures and condemnations.” It seems truly amazing that a doctor who, over a quarter of a century, had never met Naessens, or once visited his laboratory, or taken the trouble to investigate why hundreds of cancer patients had survived because of his new treatment, could so peremptorily reduce the biologist’s knowledge to nil.
Was Roy really being impartial when he said, “I’ve got to be a bit careful because Naessens is currently under legal prosecution. … But the fact remains that he was in serious trouble with the French legal authorities. Let’s just say he’s a ‘slick talker,’ one who knows how to address an audience. But, I ask you, why is it that he’s been working in secret for so long?” In asking this question, Roy was obviously not in the least ashamed to be adding a second error to the one he had already propagated. For the truth was, and is, that Naessens, far from having worked “in secret,” has at all times – as I have repeatedly witnessed over the years – kept his laboratory open to “all comers” and has stood ready to discuss his research with any of them. “It’s so obvious,” Roy disparagingly continued, “that all this man’s affirmations and allegations just don’t have a leg to stand on. …”
“But,” ingenuously interrupted his young interviewer, “haven’t there been several people who have testified in writing, or on TV, that they’ve been cured by 714-X?”
Roy’s unhesitating answer was breathtakingly categoric: “No one’s personal testimony has any value whatsoever! All such testimonies are purely suggestive and anecdotal. Let’s show a little common sense, after all ! Common sense indicates that if Naessens had a real treatment for a malady such as cancer, it would have been criminal not to put it at the disposition of the whole world! I don’t understand what he’s up to, and I have even less understanding of those who go about publicizing his reputed treatment, which is pure quackery.” Given the hyperbole on Roy’s part, one could well wonder what hope there might be for any kind of new discovery in the health field ever to become authorized, or even known. For years, Naessens had been assiduously, but unsuccessfully, trying to “put his discovery at the world’s disposition.”
Unabashed by the weight of her interviewee’s authority, the interviewer was not loath to press in on Roy again: “There have, however, been certain doctors who have been most surprised at how terminal patients have been brought back to good physical shape with 714-X. Would that not make anyone eager to verify the facts with respect to those recovered patients?”
“Not at all!” Roy’s rejoinder was a virtual explosion. “It’s not my job, or that of the Medical Corporation, to check on pseudocures of that kind! So what, if two, three, four, or half a dozen doctors, in their isolation, have something good to say in support of it? No matter where they come from, their statements are worthless!”
To get a countervailing idea of what Naessens might have said in rebuttal in Roy’s presence, we shall next excerpt part of an interview with the biologist, by the same interviewer on the same radio station a few days later.
Interviewer: “Gaston Naessens,” she began, “is your 714-X really effective?”
Naessens: Absolutely! It builds up the immune system so that all the body’s natural defenses can regain the upper hand. I don’t make the claim in a void, because there are a lot of people around who were gravely ill with cancer who can now state they have gotten well due to my treatment.
Interviewer: If your product really works, why hasn’t Dr. Roy been interested in doing an in-depth study of it? Does he know you at all?
Naessens: Many people have asked me both those questions. If you ask him the latter question, he will pull out a thick file on me and hell tap it, and say, “Sure, I’ve known him since 1964.” But the fact is he has never met me in person, never visited my lab, and never investigated my work!
So, he is absolutely incapable of making any judgment whatsoever on whether that work has a solid foundation, or not!
In his lengthy reply, uninterrupted by the fascinated interviewer, Naessens, after a brief pause, began to reveal the essence of the difficult situation in which he had been placed over the years:
Naessens: Let’s get to the heart of this matter! The medical community, on the one hand, and I, on the other, speak completely different languages. That anomaly connects to the important fact that all approved anticancer therapies are focused only on cancer tumors and cancerous cells. The reigning philosophy, medically speaking, is that a cytolitic (cell-killing) method must be used to destroy all cancer cells in a body stricken with that disease.
But I, on the contrary, have developed a therapy based on what has been called the body’s whole terrain! To understand that, you have to realize that, every day, our bodies produce cancerous cells in no great amount. It’s our healthy immune system that gets rid of them. My 714-X allows a weakened, or hampered, immune system to come back to full strength, so that it can do its proper job!
If medical “experts” pronounce my product worthless, it might even be admitted that, in terms of their own scientific philosophy, they are making some sense. This is largely because, when they examine my product for any cytotoxic effect it might have, they find none!
Interviewer: Is the Medical Corporation interested in sitting down and talking with you, or running tests to verify your product?
Naessens: No! Because they firmly believe that any success it might have is due to some kind of “psychological” effect, and they say that the product itself contains nothing that could possibly be of benefit.
Interviewer: Where did they get that idea?
Naessens: It seems that, with officialdom, it’s always a case of misinformation, or of bad faith. If this whole affair were limited to patients I’ve successfully treated, patients who might have remained silent, I would still have small hope that my research will one day be recognized. But, now, a crucial turning point has been reached. I’m back in the international limelight. My arrest, incarceration, and indictment are important if only because, immediately following them, people “in the know” have begun to take action on my behalf. That being so, the medical community’s negative reaction is no longer the only, or the dominant, one! It may be too bad that all this has to be thrashed out not in a scientific forum, but in a court of law. But that’s the way it is. In my upcoming trial, many of my patients’ cases will be examined, one by one, and exposed in full detail, in the courtroom! So the medical “authorities” will no longer be the sole judges.
After continuing on with this theme for several minutes longer, Naessens came to a firm conclusion: “I wouldn’t want you to think that I’m even trying to boast when I say that my work represents a brand new horizon in biology! I have found a successful way of adjusting a delicate biological mechanism. I have no pretensions beyond that! If I can be of service to anyone, my laboratory is always open.” ( More about 714-X )