A Jake talks a lot.

Raves a lot, you may say. Ravings of a madman.

And sure, you might take what I say to any number of mainstream sanctioned professionals, and they will scoff. Foolish nonsense, they will say. Myopia is genetic and glasses are the only treatment known to man (man with bills to pay and lens inventory to sell). Glasses don’t harm your distance vision, they only help!

Perhaps they’re right.

Or also perhaps they’re entirely notably clueless (or malicious, or at least turning thee proverbial blind eye, depending on your propensity for conspiratorial ideas). But also either way, all this boring theoretical volleying of opposing ideas only get’s interesting once you realize an entirely game changing premise:

You could yourself test whether minus lenses have an immediate, measurable, negative effect on your eyesight.

You could. If you had dissenting tendencies.

Without naming names of those with objectionably dissenting tendencies, let’s look at what Ian finds, when he changes diopter degrees in his lens use:

Unruhestifter.

Ian. Probably always was a troublemaker.

Of course I don’t suggest that you conduct this sort of heretical experiment yourself. If you were to, known side effects would include disillusionment, potentially missing out on future 2-for-1 glasses sales, reduced diopter dependence, and a shedding of both literal and proverbial myopia.

Yes, those are all things you don’t want to burden your naive and trustful soul with.

But let’s assume that you happen to read this likely baseless incitement, a potential foreboding of opposition, of defiance, of questioning of mainstream doctrine and authority, and you feel a crawling unease in your stomach. Fear not, because professional reassurance is always within arm’s reach.

Take Maria’s ophthalmologist, as comforting example:

See … it’ll be all right, kitteh.

Nobody can make your choices for you.

Or rather, they absolutely will insist on making all your choices for you immediately, unless you fight for your own well-being.

Or rather, who knows. Raving madman and all. Or even in the words of the classical string quartet, Rage Against the Machine: “Sure thing, I’ll do what you tell me.”

(NSFW)