Tild uncovers a real treasure: a book from the heyday of patent medicines, full of advice specifically for women, and loaded with testimonials for Dr Pierce’s ‘prescription’. When you find out what was in the concoction, you’ll understand why all the accompanying photos show women looking both cheery and glazed.
The results were startling. Richardson’s Concentrated Sherry Wine Bitters had 47.5 percent alcohol; Hostetter’s Stomach Bitters, 44.3 percent; Boker’s Stomach Bitters, 42.6 percent; Parker’s Tonic, “purely vegetable,” 41.6 percent. Lydia Pinkham’s Vegetable Compound had relatively little—20.6 percent.
Bok saw a real problem. Women were doctoring themselves and their families with dangerous alcoholic nostrums. Temperance women were turning to “bitters” to cure their sluggishness. Pregnant women used “Doctor Pierce’s Favorite Prescription”, which contained digitalis, opium, oil of anise and alcohol (17 percent).
Ladies, go read it. You’ll get the impression that early 20th century women were all sick and diseased, and also all doped to the gills.
Gentlemen, though, might want to read another link Tild provides. Fellows, do you suffer from Spermatorrhea, or the emission of semen without intercourse? I get the distinct impression from that libertarian thread that there are many here who have not ejaculated healthily into a vagina in quite some time. This is bad news.
The seminal fluid consists of the most vital elements in the human body. It not only assists in maintaing the life of the individual, but communicates the essential, transforming principle with generates another mortal having an imperishable existence. Its waste is a wanton expenditure, which robst the blood of its richness and exhausts the body of its animating powers. No wonder that its loss enfeebles the constitution, and results in impotency, premature decline, St. Vitus’s dance, paralysis, epilepsy, consumption, softening of the brain, and insanity. No wonder that conscience and fear become tormenting inquisitors, and that the symptoms are changed into imaginary spectres of stealthily approaching disease.
Look what happens if you do not heed Dr Pierce’s advice!
And then there’s the moral terpitude instilled by the filthy habit.
The fancy creates an attractive partner, possessed of girlish beauty, a perfect type of goodness, blended with sexuality, and whom the subject worships with all the ardor of passion. Around this beau ideal all his affections are clustered; to her the purest of his blood is offered in sacrifice, and it is no wonder that female associates seem tame and unattractive when such imaginary and consummate divinity is courted. In the sensual delirium is conceived an elysium of carnal bliss, where half-nude nymphs display their charms and invite to sensual enjoyments. Thus we see how this habit makes the spiritual faculties subservient to morbid passion, and by what means elevating influences are prostituted to vulgar and base-born creations.
Oooooh. It all sounded pretty good, except … only half nude? Clearly, we could all give Dr Pierce some better advice in what constitutes a good fantasy. We could also point out that a teaspoon of seminal fluid isn’t exactly a major loss to the body, nor is it exceptionally rich in “vital elements”; it’s also a bit murky on how ejaculating into a vagina transforms the loss of that small quantity of precious fluid into a positive, healthy experience.
I suspect that what made his female associates seem tame and unattractive is that they were all taking Dr Pierce’s patent medicines and they were all permanently blotto. And his female patients were all taking his ‘prescription’ because their male partners were all made anxious and jittery and paranoid by the lies they were being told about a normal and harmless practice. It’s a clever self-perpetuating circular market — he must have gotten rich off of this.