By Zecharia Parker
Buy new: $14.99
First tagged by William Beattie
Customer tags: funny, islam, scientology, humor, dieting, program, fiction, hunter s thompson, ot levels, bill bryson, new, novel
Review & Description
SYNOPSIS
Tom Bradley emerges from the doldrums of obesity and enrolls in a revolutionary (seven-phase) weight-loss program developed by an enigmatic doctor at I.H.I (Incremental Health Improvement) wellness center. Suspicions bloom into full-blown paranoia as Tom becomes more and more invested in the precarious pyramidal-construct of the secretly developed system. Deeply conflicted and mesmerized by the cobweb of I.H.I’s luxurious-intrigue; he fearfully penetrates into the depths of the centers underbelly befriending a quixotic-geriatric who plots their frantic escape route.
Secret-service intelligence’s are not far behind as the two break rank and flee southbound to find a temporary safe haven. An unexpected turn of unfortunate events leaves Tom questioning his sanity as he humorously ventures on a mystery-quest to find the ever illusive Dr. Octagon. Sensitive information surfaces, as the story’s plot unfolds, triggering Tom’s unavoidable metamorphosis into a deep thinking philanthropist.
WARNING: “This story contains earth-shattering paranoiac episodes of sardonic-humor that may be unhealthy to stable minds.”
PREFACE
There I was, on a beautiful Saturday afternoon, starring at myself in the mirror and seeing reflections of everything I so detested. How could I allow myself to submerge into the pitfalls of degradation and the shallow doldrums of over-eating decadence? Five years have passed since the separation with my bi-polar, menacing wife, Linda. I was through with those long-winding, total-recall days of bitterness; that left me subjected to cheap cable television, dark rooms, and drive-thru fine dining.
The years passed by painfully like a maddening-whirlwind of emotions mixed with surreal memories of pleasure and pain. Again, I looked at myself in a large vanity mirror hitched to the large oak-wood dresser in my room. What happened to the good old golden days? The time when I was still in my early twenties and I used to go to the gym, run a few miles on the treadmill and lift all the heavy weights. I was oozing back then with the self-esteem and vibrancy of an andro-morphed pro-athlete—marking my territory in the roughest gyms, fitness centers, and Y.M.C.A’S. Maybe I was a little bit over egotistical during that period, but I never remembered lying around the apartment moping about things I couldn’t change. I used to be more resolute than this. How exactly did I lose grasp of my proclivity for self-confidence?
One thing I know for sure is that some things in my life need to change A.S.A.P. I felt that spark of insight start to trickle into some important part of my conscious brain. No, I didn’t need some quack artists’ snake oil, or a psychoanalyst-clone to write me out a prescription and send me into deeper depths of disparity.
I sat down and began to analyze my situation with a little bit more self-honesty than I had previously done during similar rationalizing episodes. What you are about to read is my personal story of victory in the face of slight obesity and how a visitation with a quixotic-homeopath (Dr. Gardener) set off a chain of events that changed my life forever.
SYNOPSIS
Tom Bradley emerges from the doldrums of obesity and enrolls in a revolutionary (seven-phase) weight-loss program developed by an enigmatic doctor at I.H.I (Incremental Health Improvement) wellness center. Suspicions bloom into full-blown paranoia as Tom becomes more and more invested in the precarious pyramidal-construct of the secretly developed system. Deeply conflicted and mesmerized by the cobweb of I.H.I’s luxurious-intrigue; he fearfully penetrates into the depths of the centers underbelly befriending a quixotic-geriatric who plots their frantic escape route.
Secret-service intelligence’s are not far behind as the two break rank and flee southbound to find a temporary safe haven. An unexpected turn of unfortunate events leaves Tom questioning his sanity as he humorously ventures on a mystery-quest to find the ever illusive Dr. Octagon. Sensitive information surfaces, as the story’s plot unfolds, triggering Tom’s unavoidable metamorphosis into a deep thinking philanthropist.
WARNING: “This story contains earth-shattering paranoiac episodes of sardonic-humor that may be unhealthy to stable minds.”
PREFACE
There I was, on a beautiful Saturday afternoon, starring at myself in the mirror and seeing reflections of everything I so detested. How could I allow myself to submerge into the pitfalls of degradation and the shallow doldrums of over-eating decadence? Five years have passed since the separation with my bi-polar, menacing wife, Linda. I was through with those long-winding, total-recall days of bitterness; that left me subjected to cheap cable television, dark rooms, and drive-thru fine dining.
The years passed by painfully like a maddening-whirlwind of emotions mixed with surreal memories of pleasure and pain. Again, I looked at myself in a large vanity mirror hitched to the large oak-wood dresser in my room. What happened to the good old golden days? The time when I was still in my early twenties and I used to go to the gym, run a few miles on the treadmill and lift all the heavy weights. I was oozing back then with the self-esteem and vibrancy of an andro-morphed pro-athlete—marking my territory in the roughest gyms, fitness centers, and Y.M.C.A’S. Maybe I was a little bit over egotistical during that period, but I never remembered lying around the apartment moping about things I couldn’t change. I used to be more resolute than this. How exactly did I lose grasp of my proclivity for self-confidence?
One thing I know for sure is that some things in my life need to change A.S.A.P. I felt that spark of insight start to trickle into some important part of my conscious brain. No, I didn’t need some quack artists’ snake oil, or a psychoanalyst-clone to write me out a prescription and send me into deeper depths of disparity.
I sat down and began to analyze my situation with a little bit more self-honesty than I had previously done during similar rationalizing episodes. What you are about to read is my personal story of victory in the face of slight obesity and how a visitation with a quixotic-homeopath (Dr. Gardener) set off a chain of events that changed my life forever.
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Why are some people so enamored with Phase 1? The reason is that it's simple and to the point. You don't have to do a lot of thinking about food choices. You're basically eating lean protein, high-fiber legumes, low-fat dairy, good fats (including some nuts), and plenty of vegetables. Those highly processed refined carbs that were your downfall are out of sight and, within a few days, out of mind (at least for most people). You're encouraged to eat until you're full and snack before you get hungry. And every time you step on the scale, you get a big grin on your face because those unwanted pounds and fat are just melting away. So it's not surprising to me that Phase 1 fans often ask, "If I'm doing so well on Phase 1, why do I have to move on to Phase 2?" Phase 1 is not meant to be a long-term eating plan. Its dual goals are to jump-start weight loss for people who have 10 or more pounds to lose (thus providing immediate positive reinforcement) and to control swings in blood sugar and eliminate cravings for sugar and refined starches. Phase 1 can also have a positive effect on sugar in people with pre-diabetes. In just 2 weeks, you should have achieved these two goals and be ready to move on. 
