The Curse of Tutankhamun... Now in a Test Tube Near You
Ancient tomb fungus once blamed for killing archaeologists is now targeting leukaemia cells; scientists cheer, while Barry from Ibiza prepares to launch his scarab-infused healing tea.
If only I had a pound for every time I read a story like this… about some ancient, oozing, festering substance turning out to be the next miracle cancer cure; I’d finally be able to afford one of those sugar-free almond flat whites from that smug cafe that also sells dreamcatchers and reiki.
Last week’s headline reads like a rejected Indiana Jones script; “Toxic Fungus Linked to Pharaoh’s Curse Could Help Fight Cancer.” Yes, you read that correctly. A fungus, one thought to be responsible for the mysterious deaths of the team who cracked open Tutankhamun’s tomb; is now the star of a potential leukaemia treatment. Move over Big Pharma, here comes Big Pharaoh. I liked that one!
The science is genuinely astonishing. The fungus, Aspergillus flavus, long suspected of killing off overly curious archaeologists and Polish scientists in the ’70s, contains a type of peptide known as RiPPs. Apparently, when these RiPPs aren’t busy haunting crypts or turning lungs into puff pastry, they can be modified to attack cancer cells. Two out of four variants tested managed to slap leukaemia cells around the petri dish like Paul Hollywood with a blunt rolling pin.
So far, so promising.
But the moment this story surfaced, I knew exactly what would happen. My inbox would soon be brimming with links from well-meaning strangers telling me about “The Pharaoh Protocol” and some bloke called Barry who now sells “spiritual fungus tinctures” from a beach hut in Ibiza. Because in the world of cancer, every real scientific breakthrough is quickly gatecrashed by a conga line of people flogging nonsense with the sincerity of a children’s party magician who’s just discovered moon crystals.
It starts with a mushroom and ends with some poor patient being told their survival depends on drinking fermented yak milk, charging their chakras; and dancing barefoot around a scarab beetle during a full moon. I’ve seen it before and not just once!
When I was going through cancer treatment, a woman earnestly told me I didn’t need chemotherapy. “You just need apricot kernels,” she whispered. “It’s what they don’t want you to know.” She handed me a link to a website that looked like it had been designed by a man using crayons and paranoia.
Another one swore blind that if I stood on a copper mat for twenty minutes while humming at 432Hz, my blood would “resonate with the universe’s healing frequency.” I tried it. All I got was a mild electric shock and a confused cat.
So yes, fungus from ancient tombs might hold promise. It really might. But here’s the difference… this is being tested in labs, with controls and scrutiny; and researchers who wear actual shoes. It’s not something you stir into your green smoothie and sell at £45 a bottle through an Instagram influencer with questionable ethics and a discount code.
The recurring gag is always the same… a real breakthrough emerges and within 48 hours someone with zero qualifications is selling something “inspired by” it, usually involving powders, patches or potions, none of which have seen a clinical trial, but all of which have seen your wallet.
That’s the difference between science and snake oil. The science takes time, funding, failures and peer review. The snake oil just takes a desperate person and a slick label.
So here’s your nudge for the day; celebrate the researchers who are poking around ancient tombs, risking fungal inhalation and long evenings writing grant applications. Because they’re the ones who might actually find the cure.
Ignore Barry with the blog and the jars of tomb-dust smoothie. Because if something sounds like it was invented by a man in a hemp vest who once licked a mushroom and saw Cleopatra; it probably won’t cure your cancer.
Instead let’s fund the science. Let’s test the mould. Let’s turn this curse into a cure; and leave the fake treatments buried with the rest of the historical nonsense where they belong.
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Chris Geiger, Author of The Cancer Survivors Club.
Daily Dose of Disbelief!
Bsky: @chrisgeiger.com
Bsky: @thecancersurvivorsclub.com
Bsky: @dailydoseofdisbelief.com
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