Exorcising Intelligence: The Rise of the Parasite Panic

Let’s get one thing straight: you are not a walking worm farm. You are a complex, symbiotic ecosystem. A living library of microbial poetry. And every time you chug a shot glass full of black walnut hulls and turpentine because a TikToker told you parasites are the reason you can’t get your life together, a brain cell quietly weeps.

Let’s talk about the rising cult of parasite cleanses. Suddenly, everyone is convinced their bloating, brain fog, or breakup is because of an evil nematode or microbe hiding in their colon like a Bond villain. But here’s the punchline: the parasites might actually be the smartest thing about you.

The Dumbest Way to Get “Smarter”

Here’s the modern myth: kill all the parasites and emerge enlightened, vibrant, and finally able to organize your pantry. Reality? You’re likely irritating your intestines, disrupting your terrain, and reducing your resilience. Also, your pantry’s still a mess.

Turns out, many so-called parasites are actually contributing to your adaptive intelligence. That’s right. Some helminths and protozoa modulate your regulatory system, teach your body tolerance, and may even keep toxic build-up in check. They’re like tiny Zen monks riding shotgun through your gut, reminding your body not to absorb negativity in the form of poisons.

If intelligence is defined as the ability to adapt and respond appropriately to your environment, then blindly murdering your microbial companions because someone on YouTube had a weird poop is the opposite of intelligence. That’s right—parasites might not be making you dumb. Removing them might be.

Parasites: Nature’s Brain Supplements?

Let’s entertain the idea that certain “parasites” (really more like misunderstood microbial diplomats) have co-evolved with us for millennia. They’ve helped train our bodily systems, support microbiome balance, and maybe—just maybe—given us an edge.

There are studies suggesting that helminth therapy (i.e., purposeful exposure to organisms like Trichuris suis) may improve symptoms of what we call allergies, asthma, and even neurodevelopmental conditions. So now who’s the dummy? The person hosting a few intelligent worms or the person blasting their gut with clove oil like a medieval exorcist?

If It Comes Out of You, It Might Be You

Let’s pause here to clarify a tragic misconception: just because something stringy came out of your rear doesn’t mean it was a worm. Often, it’s mucosal lining, biofilm, or the charred remains of your gastrointestinal dignity. Many of the photos shared on social media are not parasites at all, but the result of aggressive herbs or laxatives breaking down the gut wall—yikes.

And those “moving things” in your toilet? Sometimes it’s just undigested plant fibers doing a bad impression of a tapeworm. It’s amazing what psyllium husk and paranoia can create.

Don’t Nuke the Ecosystem to Kill the Imaginary Invaders

You wouldn’t set fire to your entire backyard because you saw a beetle, right? Yet people are ingesting high doses of antiparasitics—often originally designed for livestock—with the fervor of doomsday preppers. Long-term? This can compromise digestion, eliminate beneficial flora, damage detox pathways, and ironically, make you more vulnerable to absorbing chemicals and poisons.

A well-regulated system doesn’t need a cleanse. It needs support.

What people are calling “parasite symptoms” are often the result of poor diet, stress, toxic exposures, and emotional constipation—not actual worms. But blaming it all on a parasite lets you avoid changing your life. It’s the same reason people buy vision boards instead of getting 8 hours of sleep.

Intelligence Isn’t Sterility. It’s Symbiosis.

The deeper intelligence of the human body isn’t about domination or eradication. It’s about discernment, flexibility, and relationship. If you keep viewing nature as the enemy, you’ll never learn from it.

Let’s reclaim the intelligence of terrain. Parasites, bacteria, fungi—they all speak in the language of adaptation. It’s the language of life.

So next time someone tells you to take six rounds of wormwood and hold in a coffee enema while chanting “die, die, die,” just smile and say: “Actually, my helminths and I are in a committed relationship.”

Because you’re not hosting an invasion.

You’re curating an ecosystem.

Bonus Side Note: Things That Lower Intelligence More Than Parasites

• Influencer protocols with affiliate codes

• Pooping selfies

• Taking horse dewormer because you read Reddit

• Believing the human body is a battlefield, not a garden