"get well" healing white light for NYC_SKP

[GOBUCKS]

On March 31 the will insert a bone flap made of polyetheretherketone.

I'm reminded of the TV commercial where that little fat guy repairs a big hole in a rowboat with a piece of screen wire that he sprays with his miracle "Flex Seal".

If he survives we can just count it up as another of those "God works in mysterious ways" deals, since there's no obvious justification for Skippy's existence.

[franksolich]

I would love to see the original post to be sure.

The original's buried too deeply in any search, as what happens with high-numbered posters here.

I found it in one of my own comments quoting you, but for whatever reason I didn't have the original link in my comment.  I probably forgot because I was so "taken" by that you managed to say what I've been trying to say.....but so clearly, so succinctly, while I'd been taking hundreds of words to describe Skippyism.

.....often, liberals are content to treat gestures as the functional equivalent of deeds, and intentions as adequate substitutes for achievements.

<<<noticed that Skippy did the gesture, but apparently not the deed, in Pamela's fund-raising thread.

[franksolich]

[Chris_]

I believe the original quote is from William Voegeli.

http://conservativecave.com/index.php?topic=100677.msg1267946#msg1267946

[franksolich]

I believe the original quote is from William Voegeli.

http://conservativecave.com/index.php?topic=100677.msg1267946#msg1267946

Wow.  How'd you find that?  I "refined" my own search to where it might as well've been sugar.

[Chris_]

I don't use the site search feature... I used Google.

[franksolich]

I don't use the site search feature... I used Google.

Oh.

Okay, I attributed it to the wrong person, but hey, it sounds like something obumazombie would say.

[franksolich]

If he survives we can just count it up as another of those "God works in mysterious ways" deals, since there's no obvious justification for Skippy's existence.

I'm praying--really, I am--that the brain surgeon's so good that while he's in Skippy's head, he finds and repairs some of the wrong turns, detours, dead ends, and convolutions in Skippy's cerebral arteryways that makes Skippy so ****ed up.

There's no reason for Skippy to be as silly as he is--and apparently he's been this way since at least 1976, when he was an angry teenager, pissed off at the world, working for Jimmy Carter in California.

He came from a good background--good, decent, honest, hardworking, modest people who'd hoped he'd turn out better than he has.

[GOBUCKS]

He came from a good background--good, decent, honest, hardworking, modest people who'd hoped he'd turn out better than he has.

That's an assumption.

Maybe they were democrats who hoped their kid would grow up to be a useless douchenozzle, in which case now they're proud.

[franksolich]

That's an assumption.

Maybe they were democrats who hoped their kid would grow up to be a useless douchenozzle, in which case now they're proud.

Well now, all indications are that they were hardworking, poor but honest folks.

His maternal grandfather owned and operated an asparagus farm always on the verge of bankruptcy.  His maternal grandmother used a washboard to do the laundry in the kitchen sink.  After Skippy's father deserted his mother and her two children, his maternal grandparents took them in.

Skippy went to a two-room, two-teacher country school.  For some reason he seems to think that was "bad," but hey--it got him a full-ride scholarship into one of the premier engineering colleges in America, so obviously it was actually "good," compared with what modern urban schools churn out.

I dunno about you, but I'm getting the impression of "family values" here.  There's no indication that the tow-headed, torn-overalls-wearing, barefooted lilliputian Skippy was less than cherished.

And so why he turned out bad is a mystery.

[GOBUCKS]

I dunno about you, but I'm getting the impression of "family values" here.  There's no indication that the tow-headed, torn-overalls-wearing, barefooted lilliputian Skippy was less than cherished.

And so why he turned out bad is a mystery.

So he lived with "Gramps".

Maybe he had a collie named Lassie.

[franksolich]

So he lived with "Gramps".

Maybe he had a collie named Lassie.

Well now, it wouldn't surprise me if he did.

When lilliputian, Skippy was living the sort of life other boys could only dream about.

When he was born, California was enjoying the services of one of its best U.S. Senators ever, William Knowland.  During his adolescence, he had George Murphy to inspire him, and about the time he started turning bad, one of the best, S.I. Hayakawa.  And Ronald Reagan as governor 1967-1975--well, Hell, I dunno why he never appreciated all these people making life better for him.

[franksolich]

It's now about 12 hours until Skippy goes under.

Since I'd been up all last night--but not at the computer--during the late afternoon I laid down to take a nap.

When I awoke in early evening, I happened to glance over at a mantel, on which sits the oldest personal possession of mine.  It's not an antique or anything; it's just the physical possession I have, that I've owned longer than anything else.

It's an 8" high light brown alabaster statue of St. Francis of Assisi, and was given to me by a little old lady lo, those many years ago, that very first night I slumbered in the emergency room--I was kept there three days, as the hospital had no intensive care unit--after having been put together by four little-known but highly-competent physicians, and it's hovered somewhere around me every night of my life.  I even had it with me while seeing Europe on $5 a day, and then later in the socialist paradises.

It's an exquisitely-made, but very modest, thing, easy to carry around, and usually I've just done it automatically, without even thinking about it.

I dunno why that long ago little old lady--God rest her soul--thought St. Francis of Assisi was appropriate for franksolich, given that I have little, if any, of his kind, gentle manner.  My real patron saint is St. Michael the Archangel, the Warrior of God, who drove Lucifer and his primitives out of Heaven down into Hell.

I was never exactly sure what to do with it; as a child, since it was the appropriate scale for the large Italianate-made nativity set the family displayed at Christmas, I irreverently parked it with the shepherds watching their flocks, even though the shepherds and all else were exquisitely multi-colored, and St. Francis is just ordinary light brown.

But anyway, it's always been around me, since that first night in the hospital.

When I awoke in early evening, that statue was the first thing I saw, from across the room; as I've hinted before, it's just one of those ordinary mundane things that's been around so much one rarely, if ever, pays attention to it.  It's just something that's there.

Then I thought of Skippy on the morrow, hoping more than just the fallible mortal world-class brain surgeon is in the operating room.

- - - - - - - - - -

Now, Big Mo had better see this, so she gets it blasted out of her hard head, that decent and civilized people don't care about the primitives and their important plights.

[obumazombie]

I believe the original quote is from William Voegeli.

http://conservativecave.com/index.php?topic=100677.msg1267946#msg1267946

Now I'm glad I didn't claim that quote as my own, and I did attribute it.
But like coach said, it sounds like something I would say.
that is a compliment beyond measure.
I only wish I had been the original author.

[franksolich]

Okay, Skippy’s probably being “prepped” and gassed right now, for the operation.

Of course he hasn’t paid the least bit of attention to this thread, as he’s got more important things to worry about.  And he wouldn’t like us anyway, no matter how nice we are to him.

But this thread was actually started as a reminder to Big Mo that we care.

About things that are truly important, that affect the primitives, we care.

The primitives may disagree with decent and civilized people, about “what’s truly important,” but the primitives have no sense of judgement; all they’re about is feel-sorry-for-me-feel-sorry-for-me-feel-sorry-for-me.

And so best for that people who have a sense of judgement and proportion determine what’s truly important and what’s not, on behalf of the primitives.

- - - - - - - - - -

I don’t want to do this any more, proving to the primitives that we care; it’s a lot of work, and it’s taken me away from more-important writing chores.

It’s long been a “given”—it doesn’t need advertised--that decent and civilized people care about the primitives on matters affecting them, that are truly important.  We don’t need to wear our virtue on our sleeves.

And I’m sure that the primitives, if they paid attention, would see that yes, decent and civilized people care about them…..on things that are truly important.

The other 99.842% of the things the primitives whine about, are rather silly and trite and frivolous and ridiculous, and well worthy of mockery and derision.

- - - - - - - - - -

Godspeed, Skips.

Yeah, yeah, I know; you think God’s a silly idea, Skippy; it’s not hip, it’s not cool, it’s not trendy, it’s not with it, to acknowledge God, and if there’s anything you always wanted to be, it’s hip, cool, trendy, with it.

But I’m confused.  God and Reality are Infinite.

How is it possible for a finite human mind to comprehend the Infinite?

A human brain may have billions of brain-cells—in your case, Skippy, trillions—but still, while that’s a very large number, it’s only a finite number.

How is it possible for the finite to understand the Infinite?

I know you think you’re smarter than even nadinbrzezinski, but your human, finite, fallible smartness has its limits.

So **** you, Skips, in your stupid mule-headed refusal to acknowledge God, but I sincerely hope God’s in the operating room with you and the surgeon this morning.