Thanks, Uncle Milty.
We’re all Englishmen here so we’ll dispense with the small talk:
We all know that when you go to the doctor, he’ll find at least one thing wrong with you.
That’s his job. To find something wrong with everybody who comes into his room.
That’s why he’s the man in the long white coat with his name on it in blue ink.
Mummy’s Daddy, Michael, from Milano, used to always say: “Little Giovanni, never go to the doctor, he will make you sick.
When you go in his room, you will feel fine, when you come out, you will be very sick. Never go in the room.”
Grandpere never once went to the doctor and lived to be a spry and gai 98, dying peacefully one night in his sleep.
When I was impossibly young, LSD was still legal and I took gobs of it and when that indulgence was found out I was taken to a psychiatrist who told my parents, in a letter I was never shown, that there are 12 specific and completely distinct things wrong with me mentally.
I was never told and now, as the all elders are dead, I never will learn, what those 12 things wrong with me are.
Can you possibly explain how, under the circumstances described, that information as to my mental incapacities and impediments was, either fair to me, for elders to know and withhold or, at any time, beneficial for anyone to have found out about in the first place?
- At Washington, capital city of the terminally self-absorbed, mortal man holds to fleeting, feeble and fallible opinion, God immutable fact.
In sunshine and in shadow~~I hold tight to the Republican view of time and money~~I write night and day~~yet~~while impecunious~~I am vastly overpaid~~in that taking pay to do what I love is unfair~~to my employer~~in a fair system~~under such circumstances~~I should pay him~~not he me~~I am far, far too old a man to be sexually confused~~praise Jesus~~but I am yet young enough to be politically confused~~is anyone not~~in an absolute sense~~I am a Catholic Royalist~~in a practical sense~~I am a Classical Liberal~~a Gaullist~~a Bonapartist~~an American Nationalist Republican~~in either sense~~my head is soon for the chopping block~~to hasten my interlude with Madame La Guillotine~~I write without fear~and without favor of~any man.~~Finis Origine Pendet…The escape commences…~~September, 1957~~Saint Jane Frances de Chantal Catholic parochial school, called, by anyone of any background, simply: “Chan~al,” a place where, of an autumn day in 1957, school, for me, began and ended in the first convening of the first grade in which a tiny nun, one Sister Dom Bosco, appeared before me, just behind the window appearing at far left of this photograph, and piped out this: “I may be small, but so then, is the Atom Bomb.”~~My determination to escape school commenced immediately on hearing about this Atom Bomb business and took 16 dicey and arduous years to finally accomplish.~~~~Non SibiThe escape continues…~~September, 1966~~The Cathedral Latin School~~Finis Origine Pendet~~Κύριε ἐλέησον~~
Rejoice and Glad!!
~The Original Angry Bird~~The Catholic University of America Screaming Red Cardinal Mascot~~
~~EX LIBRIS~~~~THEOS EK MĒCHANĒS~~Tuesday Morning, 20th Mai, Anno Domini Nostri Iesu Christi, 2015
http://www.linkedin.com/profile/view?id=122865699&trk=hb_tab_pro_top“Jean-Marie Le Pen is a friend. He is dangerous for the political set because he’s the only one who’s sincere. He says out loud what many people think deep down, and what the politicians refrain from saying because they are either too demagogic or too chicken. Le Pen, with all his faults and qualities, is probably the only one who thinks about the interests of France before his own.”~~
French actor~~Alain Delon
CONCEPT OF THE CATHOLIC AND ROYAL ARMY OF AMERICA (CRAA)
THE CATHOLIC UNIVERSITY OF AMERICASeal of The Catholic University of America
Deus Lux Mea Est
Acta Est Fabula
The escape concludes…
The Catholic University Of America, Washington, District of Columbia.
1976, Anno Domini Nostri Iesu Christi.
Acta Est Fabula.