I just got a ban from a group for suggesting a person might want to see a doctor for a CPAP machine because it goes against "giving medical advice"
What do?
Preach, sistah! I'm ever so chuffed you're Fighting The Good Fight re health and vigour and remaining well-ventilated. CPAPs are the money-tits.
But dear oh dear. You're discovering the hard way that loads of people just can't be reasoned with. You can't just splat The Facts in most peoples' faces and expect them to gravitate towards mundane ol' reality unassisted. Headbutt most random schmucks with any message whatever that might radiate Persuasion-powers less hot-hot-HOT than "free sex forever omg", and chances are they'll just poo in your mailbox and call you a homo. Go on. Ask me how I know that.
You and I indeed may be serene cerebral polystyrene, graceful and ethereal and a million times more humble than thou art, and resplendent in our propensities to snuffle up The Facts in their friggin' millions. But regular ol' mouth-breathers require guidance. So much guidance. I'm rather partial to sledgehammerlike social pressures. I'll show you how:
Health! We all try to stay healthy and vigorous, don't we. A cornerstone of health is breathing of unsurpassed excellence. For Eastern mystics bamboozle us relentlessly about breath work, don't they. Apparently we must reinvigorate our bodies, and revitalise our chi, and use our penises as pogo sticks, and all kinds of other whimsical woo. I mean honestly. When's the last time you encountered a qualified scientist preaching all three?
Health in all its forms is spectacularly important. And a ton of work! Breath work, good nutrition, vigorous exercise, early bedtimes, minimal heroin, leprosy quotas, on and on and ON. It's exhausting. Sometimes we can't be arsed.
And, more to the point: since the dawn of friggin' civilisation, us humans have carried the dark psychological desire to be Wealthy, and to Flaunt our obviously staggering and bountiful wealth, and to make our neighbours exclaim "check out Mr. Bigshot! So tremendous! So rad! I want his babies!"
A sure-fire crowd-pleaser is to employ staff for even the most basic functions in life. Consider Xerxes in the movie 300. Nothing's stopping him using a bog-standard ladder to descend from his slave-borne litter. Nah. Slaves there too. A living staircase of their whimpering heads. Yeah. Degrading them is the entire point, see. They're nothing and he's everything. No-one's leaving an encounter with ol' Xerxes without thinking "this disgusting asshole is disgustingly rich and powerful omg so hot".
It is this phenomenon we shall exploit.
You want to persuade this group of the wisdom of imbibing rich oxygen supplies, yeah? The trick is to lead by example. You must bombard this group of yours with a gazillion examples of neighbouring peers absorbing oxygen in vast quantities, and then immediately achieving wild success at all their life's goals.
You've neglected to tell me the nature of this group you're accosting, so I'll play it safe and assume you're harassing ISIS and their suicide bomber chat rooms. It's honestly not that much of a long shot! You know YouTube's video autoplay feature? So many people disable it pronto, because we discover quickly that when enabled, YouTube autoplays the video its algorithm insists will harvest the greatest engagement and most polarising reactions, which in practice often means peoples' viewing habits bend towards the most batshit insane conspiracy theories imaginable. Flat-Earth bullshit and suchlike. So beware.
Anyhoo. Bombard the group with Good News! Gush unrelentingly to all these wannabe-martyrs of a fab new McDonalds snack, and social-pressure advertising campaign. It's centred around the latest coolest raddest gnarliest food fad in Christendom. It's the phat new snack that the in-crowd simply simp for. McDonalds management have become concerned that their traditional deep-fried frozen Coke perhaps fails to meet the needs of their crucially important Dingbat Terrorist demographic. So Coca-Cola's foremost Islam-Boffins have once again wowed the crowd with their latest culinary miracle: deep-fried McOxygen McIce.
Yeah. Pure oxygen. Frozen into ice cubes. Deep-fried. Yum! Who'd not nom that? Then, tell these ISIS dingbats that it's the height of refinement and good manners to consume these in the Traditional Western Fashion: swallow your deep fried oxygen ice whole.
And bam. Got 'em.
Ever read the warning labels on a bottle of liquid nitrogen? Chiefmost they scream DON'T DRINK THIS! Upon evaporation, most liquids expand to thousands of times their prior volume. Down a pint of liquid nitrogen and your torso will explode. Same with frozen oxygen. Should your trusty ISIS-homie chomp down a lovely snack of that bullshit? It'll melt then boil in their tummy, and supply them all the precious, life-giving oxygen that they and their local neighbourhood marketplace could ever need. It's a suicide bomber's dream come true. All that unleashed oxygen-gas will make their imminent bang even bangier.
Mission accomplished! Now, simply collect several thousand glowing testimonials from the depleted survivors of your ISIS group about the incredibleness of your spangly and forward-thinking oxygen therapies. All your oxygen therapies. Including CPAP machines.
Thus armed with an avalanche of Xerxes-esque ISIS-dingbat praise, you're now in prime position to bludgeon the hearts and minds of any CPAPphobe group in the world with unrelenting wealth-based social coercion tactics, and to trounce anti-CPAP-racism wherever you find it. Problem solved π