Portal de Periódicos da CAPES

Prelude

2005; Wiley; Volume: 14; Issue: 2 Linguagem: Inglês

10.1111/j.0906-6705.2005.0285b.x

1600-0625

Melanie Harpy‐Witch, A. De Saint-Léger,

Medicine and Dermatology Studies History

Dear Sir, I have to confess that I much hated Peter, John, William and Albert, respectively, from Boston, Iowa-City, Leeds and Philadelphia. The latter described me as 'a bewitching lady, pursued with more passion than intelligence' (1). Since centuries, I have dedicated my long life to revenge. Afflicted by various skin disgraces, my face is, by itself, a textbook of Dermatology. Disadvantaged, I hate adolescence, its blossoming promises and succeeded to disfigure a vast majority of teens and, better, give them a bad quality of life (2). I went even further: post adolescence, many of them still remain concerned (3). Am I alone? No. Some of my old allies are suspected (not all yet, for comedone's sake), because these hated guys call me a multifactorial disease (4). My good companion, the Duke of Seborrhea constantly helps me, fuelling my flame of revenge. Although now facing the 13th division of cis-retinoics or the anti-androgens troops, my valiant Duke never fails despite their brutal assaults. Once fortunately withdrawn, these orally borne divisions always leave my Duke ready for revival, thanks to its faithful and rapidly replenishing sebocytes (5). I invariably succeed to build private follicular homes lodging my good fellow, Duchess Flora and her gram-positive knights (6), among which Sir Propionibacter is, without doubt, the bravest (7). They find these condominiums cosy, supplied with luxuriant food, giving privilege to those deprived by oxygen through my squalene companion (8) or those where damn essential fatty acids cannot be found (9). Brother Sun always shines on my enterprise, helping me a lot (10). I take pleasure in carefully selecting my victims irrespective with gender or ethnies, but rather upon their genetic profile, androgenic vigour, potent sebaceous equipment and, better, their prompt firy reactions you call inflammation, leading to subsequent deep dermal invasions that I find so elegantly disfiguring (11,12). From the brief achievement I have depicted, it is clear to me that my quest still prevails: Did you ever succeed in preventing my actions? Will the moment come you could mail to every Homo sapiens: acne is not any longer a human skin disorder? You can adopt any scientific arsenal for defying me. I am confident since fewer and fewer brains pay attention to me. I am alas referring to a Kligmanian dogma where the commonest affliction is always more ignored, the only point upon which I do agree with this Philadelphian master. Although a bewitching lady, I intend to behave as a good girl and give you a starting clue. Why does oily sebum turn to thick/solid? Look around the lipid oxidative pathways, scavenging enzymes and their dictatorial genes. Squalene and acne are specific to humans (8,13,14) … just a coincidence? I leave you with this scientific challenge, still riding my broom towards my 'oily' Grail … Aetiologically yours