Okay, it’s Sunday morning, and only twenty hours before I go under the knife, but as closing up things here takes a lot of time, I’ll write this now and be off.....until we all meet again, either in this life or the next.
The earliest possible release date from the hospital is this next Friday, and since I don’t bother taking the internet with me when going somewhere, unless something untoward happens, this is the last one will hear from franksolich until then.
On the other hand, if something untoward does happen, I’m sure the sheriff here will solemnly inform dutch508, who will then inform all decent and civilized people in the Sandhills forum, which of course is closed off from lurking primitives and others with malicious natures, who wouldn’t need to know.
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Since the operation involves some risk, I steadied my nerves for it by watching the greatest movie ever made,
La Revolution francaise from 1989; this was about the twentieth time I’ve watched this particular movie, and it never gets old.
Of course, current events, in whch the Old Order, the Man, the Establishment, is being laboriously overturned, gives it a new meaning. After more than forty years of running things, it’s long past time the old hippies—Democrats, liberals, primitives—went to the chopping block, having long outlived their uselessness.
Last week, when undergoing a couple of cardiological examinations (actually, there were seven, total, undergone last week)—one where something is jammed down the throat to get back behind the heart, the other a catherterization—anesthesia was given me, putting me in a slumbersome state.
During which time, according to the attending nurse, it appears I mumbled
Allons enfants de la Patrie, Le jour de gloire est arrivé!, which of course is from
La Marseillaise, the national anthem of France; I’d watched the six-hour series from 2002,
Napoleon, the day before, which was perhaps the inspiration for that.
And so I won’t be surprised at all when going under the gas some hours hence, I’ll mumble things like
Liberté d'égalité fraternité pour tous sauf a l'exception des sauvages (Liberty, equality, fraternity to all but the primitives) or
Pas de travail, pas de pain; mort de parasites, la richesse de ceux qui travaillent (No work, no bread; death to parasites, all wealth only to those who toil.)
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The only thing that bothers me is that my literary masterpiece about being an Innocent in the socialist paradises of the workers and peasants remains unfinished. It’s about as long as
War and Peace now, the idea being than an editor would cut out about 90% of it, pre-publication.
I used to write it on the internet, but abandoned that when I decided there’s a big difference between commenting on the internet, and typing something in black ink on white paper. That happened after the heart attack two years ago, and I discarded the internet-written stuff and started anew.
I’ve been
crafting a literary masterwork; it’s totally different from anything by franksolich that’s been on the internet. On the internet, it takes me no time at all to sloppily dash off something circa 800-1000 words long; here, I’ve been lucky if I could get that much written in a whole day.
I’m pretty confident however God is going to give franksolich enough time to finish it.
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Farewell all, until we meet again.....
I sought God, and God heard me, and delivered me from all my fears.