Da kommt mir in den Sinn, dass ich wieder Vodka kaufen muss... Toller Pilz! Die getrockneten Stücke vom letzten Jahr sind noch eigelagert, vorrausichtlich ohne weitere Verwendung. Dieses Jahr möchte ich mehr Auszug machen.Zebra hat geschrieben: ↑10. Sep 2019, 12:38Nature’s first aid kit: a fungus growing on the side of birch trees
If you’ve ever stopped to admire a birch tree, you may unknowingly have something in common with a 5,300-year-old mummy called Ötzi. In 1991, hikers found Ötzi in an alpine glacier on the Austrian-Italian border, and perfectly preserved with him were pieces of fungus attached to leather cords, safely stowed in his bag. That fungus is the same one you can see growing on birch trees today: the birch polypore.
Sometimes called birch bracket, and known to scientists as Fomitopsis betulina, the polypore is a parasite that slowly kills the birch before feasting on the dead tree until there is nothing left.
The scientists who first identified Ötzi’s ancient birch polypore speculated that he could have used it for medical purposes, as some European cultures in more recent human history have been known to do.
With recorded applications ranging from pain relief, wound dressing, antiseptic and even cancer treatment, birch polypore has been used as a broad spectrum therapy for various health problems. But is there a true medical basis behind the anecdotal folklore?
A drug cocktail
Numerous studies have revealed that birch polypore does indeed produce compounds with antibiotic, antifungal, anti-inflammatory, antioxidant, and anticancer properties. Piptamine, polyporenic acids and triterpenoids are all compounds produced as part of the fungus’ self-defence mechanism against bacteria, explaining its observed antibiotic value. When tested on dogs and mice suffering from cancer, as well as cancerous cells grown in the lab, birch polypore extracts had a range of anticancer effects such as reducing tumour size and cell growth.
It’s hard to identify the mechanisms producing these results, however, as the activity of specific birch polypore compounds is not well understood – they have mostly been studied together in one combined extract, rather than individually isolated. Even more intriguing is that this whole cocktail seems to be more effective than single compounds, which may be a result of a synergistic interaction between the separate ingredients. Further research will be needed to disentangle the relationships in the birch polypore cocktail.
Pharmaceuticals are not the only thing that we can look to birch polypore for, though. All fungi have cells walls predominantly made up of things called polysaccharides. The most abundant of these is chitin, which also gets converted into another polysaccharide called chitosan. Both chitin and chitosan have roles in keeping cells hydrated and help protect from bacteria and other fungi, making them ideal components of wound treatments such as hydrogel, membrane and sponge dressings – with the additional benefit of being biodegradable.
Another kind of polysaccharide found in fungal cell walls are D-glucans, which have been shown to help regulate the immune system, as well as having some anticancer and antibiotic activity. A specific type of D-glucan in birch polypore is also able to speed up healing by accelerating the movement of cells to the wound site.
Look to the Fungi for new medicines
While the medical explanation is plausible, we will never categorically know that Ötzi used his birch polypore to treat injuries or ill-health. What we do know, thanks to modern chemical analysis, is that the historical use of birch polypore is grounded in real medical properties.
The State of the World’s Fungi report, produced recently by my colleagues at the Royal Botanic Gardens, Kew, highlighted how important fungi have been for the discovery and production of drugs, but also how little we have explored the vast fungal diversity for such uses: addressing new challenges such as antibiotic resistance could well rely on the potentially over 3m unknown species. Fungi have evolved extraordinary compounds and mechanisms which we can utilise for human health, and traditional practices – as in the case of the birch polypore – can act as a signpost for where to look.
https://theconversation.com/natures-fir ... SYQALBKF3s
Medizinalpilze und deren Aufbereitung interessieren mich momentan sehr.
Demnächst scheint es einen umfangreichen Kurs zum Thema Medicinal Mushrooms bei Mycologos zu geben, aber leider extremst teuer
Mach dann Fotos (wenns hübsch aussieht)
Skeptisch... Worum gehts da? Cubensis züchten?
€dit: Ah, Sorry, hab Magic gelesen...
In the current psychedelic renaissance, the original psychedelic is conspicuous by its absence. Amid all the buzz around LSD, psilocybin, DMT, ketamine and MDMA, and their potential for psychotherapy and mental well-being, mescaline rarely rates a mention. Yet the term ‘psychedelic’ was coined, in 1954, in response to Aldous Huxley’s first mescaline trip. At that time, it referred to only two substances, mescaline and LSD. Today, when dozens of new psychedelic compounds are being explored in more ways than ever before, why has mescaline disappeared from view?
‘Psychedelic’ emerged from a correspondence between Huxley and Humphry Osmond, the psychiatrist who supplied him with the mescaline he took at his home in the Hollywood Hills in May 1953. (Huxley thought the spelling should be ‘psychodelic’ and persisted with it, to little avail.) His essay on the experience, The Doors of Perception (1954), kickstarted the psychedelic era. The terms in vogue for these drugs at that time, such as ‘psychotomimetic’ and ‘hallucinogen’, had emerged from psychiatry and connected their effects to mental disorders. The mescaline experience, Huxley argued, was not a psychotic episode but a transcendent state, a communion with the ‘Mind-at-Large’.
Of the two original psychedelics, LSD was the newcomer: its mind-altering properties had first been discovered by the Swiss chemist Albert Hofmann in 1943, and it was still a little-explored research chemical. Mescaline, by contrast, already had a long and storied history. It had first been isolated from its natural source, the peyote cactus, in 1897, after a series of scientists and literary figures such as Silas Weir Mitchell, William James and Havelock Ellis had described its hallucinatory effects in glowing detail.
It was first synthesized in the laboratory in 1919, and from 1920 mescaline sulphate was available as a pure drug from European pharmacy suppliers such as Merck. Psychologists and neurologists, particularly in Germany, conducted trials on dozens of subjects that generated hundreds of pages of reports of dazzling visions, bizarre sensations and cosmic revelations. Avant-garde painters worked under its influence, and it was administered under clinical supervision to philosophers such as Jean-Paul Sartre and Walter Benjamin. By the 1950s, with psychiatry’s biomedical turn, it was being widely used in schizophrenia research, the context in which Huxley encountered it.
Psychiatrists and pharmacologists agreed that mescaline and LSD intoxication were very similar: Albert Hofmann had noted immediately that LSD’s effects ‘largely matched the commonly held view of mescaline’. The most significant difference was the dose. LSD was massively more potent: a gram of mescaline was around three doses, but a gram of LSD was thousands . This made LSD more intriguing to the mind scientists, since it was obviously working with far greater precision on whatever brain mechanisms these drugs were activating. It was also, of course, much more economical. Even as The Doors of Perception was bringing mescaline to global attention, behind the scenes LSD was replacing it.
After 1962, when the Federal Drug Administration tightened its guidelines on psychedelic research, there were few plausible reasons for working with mescaline and LSD came to dominate what was by now a shrinking field. By the mid-sixties illicit LSD was hitting the streets, where its potency meant vastly greater profits than mescaline for equivalent risks. Mescaline retained a certain mystique, particularly for those who had been turned on to psychedelics by The Doors of Perception, and it was occasionally produced for the connoisseur market by underground chemists not motivated by financial gain. Both were prohibited for non-clinical use in 1965, after which LSD was cheap and ubiquitous, while mescaline became a substance of legend and rumor.
The most significant mescaline trip of the 1960s, with hindsight, was that taken by the chemist Alexander Shulgin, which he later wrote ‘unquestionably confirmed the entire direction of my life’. He was struck by how little work had been done on compounds with similar structures, and he began to synthesize new ones, including 3,4 methylenedioxymethampetamine, or MDMA, which entered the underground drug market as ‘ecstasy’. MDMA was, in many respects, mescaline tamed for the new chemical generation. Its duration was three or four hours as opposed to mescaline’s grueling ten or twelve; its psychedelic effects were less disorientating and challenging, and its physical effects more euphoric. Shulgin went on to synthesize dozens of similar compounds, many of which have found a niche in today’s teeming marketplace of novel psychoactives. Mescaline itself may have disappeared, but its stepchildren have become the beating heart of twenty-first century drug culture.
Pure mescaline today is a rare substance indeed. It is still supplied by pharmaceutical companies such as Merck and Sigma-Aldrich but is tightly controlled, its uses largely limited to forensic analysis and criminal toxicology. It can occasionally be found for sale on the markets of the dark web, along with every other designer psychedelic imaginable. It retains its legendary status in psychedelic culture thanks to The Doors of Perception and Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas, in which Hunter S. Thompson portrayed it as the ne plus ultra of psychedelic craziness. It is the psychedelic that everyone has heard of but almost nobody has taken.
By contrast, use of the mescaline-containing cacti–the San Pedro of the Andes, and the peyote of the north Mexico and south Texas desert–is expanding. The Native American Church, which uses the peyote as its sacrament, is thriving, with over a quarter of a million members. San Pedro curanderos or shamans, who until recently were only to be found along the coasts of Peru and Ecuador, can now be encountered everywhere from California to Goa, Ibiza to Thailand. In the century since it was first synthesized, mescaline has gone from scientific and popular sensation to virtual extinction. The cacti, which were used for millennia before the drug was extracted from them, look set for the long haul.
Article by Mike Jay
http://blog.yalebooks.com/2019/08/06/wh ... n4BbTtJK-Y
Hab ich mich auch schon gefragt. Das Angebot ist fast nicht vorhanden, die Nachfrage ist bestimmt grösser, fraglich aber wieviel. Schwer zu beurteilen. Im Internet meine ich tendenziell zunehmend Erfahrungsberichte zu Zeremonien uä. zu sehen, quasi im Windschatten von Ayahuasca. Vermutlich bleiben auch viele Heimanwender bei der Kaktusplörre um nicht extrahieren zu müssen, (was vielleicht sogar medizinische Vorteile bringen könnte).
Wenn man demnächst ein Schabau kriegt mit dem man sich risikolos zuschütten kann ohne zu leiden kann man sich ruhig mal wieder oane hewe.