"Monkey?" What "monkey?"

"Pride comes before the fall..." Or - as my dad would say -- "The higher the monkey climbs, the more he shows his arse."

Tuesday, July 3, 2007

"Sicko!" ~ And The Day Old Diamondback Bit Michael Moore's Arse



In interviews given to promote his new pseudo-documentary, ‘Sicko,” Michael Moore has made clear that he wants to remove the evil ‘profit motive’ from medicine.

O.K. Fair enough. That’s his solution.

Now – further down in this column, I’m going to ask you, dear reader, a question based on the following hypothetical situation which is also based on a very old joke:

You are a tour guide. You are mountain climbing with your client, a certain well-known fellow named Michael Moore. Halfway up the mountain, you stop for a snack break and Michael plunks his prodigious arse down on a log. Behind the log, nestled on a rock and absorbing the midday sun is a fanged, cold-blooded creature of the forest nick-named ‘Ol’ Diamondback.’ [‘O.D.’ for short.]

Throughout your snack break Mr. Moore denounces the American health care system. “It’s that damned ‘profit-motive’ that’s ruining health care in this country!” shouts Mr. Moore.

In the meantime, our forest friend ‘O.D.,’ is beginning to get a chill. Moore’s arse has eclipsed the sun. ‘O.D.’ slithers three or four feet to get out of the way of this giant shape that’s shading his rock.

It doesn’t matter. Moore’s arse is huge. O.D.’s still in the shade.

He slithers another ten feet this way – then ten feet that way – but no matter how far ‘O.D.’ slithers, he can’t seem to escape the gigantic shadow cast by Moore’s gigantic ‘can.’

On top of that, ‘O.D.’s sensitive body is picking up the annoying vibes of Moore’s shrill voice. It’s all too much for ‘O.D.’

He needs the sun’s warmth and he needs some peace and quiet

Whap!!

With his jaws agape, ‘O.D.’ plants two fangs into Moore’s butt. Moore starts the laborious process of jumping straight up from his seat. In mere minutes he is off the log and screaming, “Oh m’ God! A rattlesnake has bitten me in my privates!”

“Uh, where, exactly, on your privates?” you ask.

“My balls!” screams Moore.

[Ooooh, you think – that’s just too much information -- more than you really wanted to know. Still - you have a touch of admiration for the fact the snake could even find them. It says something about the killer instinct, doesn't it?]

“What are you going to do?” cries Moore.

“What am I going to do?” you ask. “Are you kidding? I’m a tour guide, not a doctor.”

“But I could die! Aren’t you worried?”

“About what?” you ask. “You already paid me….and I have your credit card number if anything else comes up.”

“No – you idiot! Not about your fee – what about me? Aren’t you worried about me?”

You take a sip of your mineral water. “Nope – I’m not worried in the least. That diamondback was six feet long. He packs one hell of a wallop. Even though your arse is the size of Belgium, that snake has definitely given you a ‘killer’ dose.”

“But isn’t there something that can be done? Aren’t you going to do something?”

“Well, Mr. Moore,” you reply, “those are two very different questions. Let’s deal with your first question: Is there ‘something,’ that can be done? – The answer is ‘yes.’”

“What? What can be done?!”

“Well, Mr. Moore, you could first drop your trousers. Then, if a hydraulic jack was available, we would elevate your stomach until your upper thighs were exposed-"

“Uh – I’m beginning to feel dizzy….I’ll drop my trousers. You set up the jack!”

“Hold your horses, Mr. Moore,” you say. “We’re still dealing with your first question about what should be done – we haven’t gotten to the part about what, if anything, I am going to do.”

“Well hurry it up – goddammit – I can’t feel my arse – it’s gone numb!!”

“Don’t worry – it’s still there. Believe me - you can’t miss it. Anyway – with your stomach elevated we would then attempt to part your thighs with an expansion winch. If that was successful – and depending on the availability of magnifying glasses, we would commence a search for your privates.”

“Hurry up! You work the winch and I’ll find my privates!”

“Ooohhh, Mr. Moore – if it were only that simple….But, you see, after locating your privates, I would then gently hold your – pardon me – your ‘balls’ -- in the palm of one hand, while I gently palpated the little devils with my other hand.”

“Gaaaawwwdammitt! Will you get started?”

“Believe me – I’m almost done with your first question… -- Then, when I located the puncture wounds, I would take a razor blade from my snake-bite kit – “

“FOR CRISSSSAKES! YOU GOTTA A SNAKEBITE KIT? WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU WAITING FOR?”

“Well, Mr. Moore, you see, we seem to have reached the nub of both of our problems simultaneously…”

“I feel faint – oh no – don’t tell me.. You’re a Republican aren’t you?”

“No – I’m a registered Tree Hugger. But that’s not the problem….See – I would then take the razor blades and ‘lance’ the entry point of each fang…and then – well, then, I, uh – well…then we start getting to the answer to your second question.”

“Wait a second - What??? You would do WHAT??? What are you supposed to do?”

“Well - then I would place my lips on the site of each puncture wound and suck out the poison. If I were to do that, then you might have a chance to be rolled down this hill and live to see another day.”

“What do you mean ‘if’ you did that? What’s stopping you, dammit? Why don’t you get started?!”

“Mr. Moore, we have now fully arrived at the answer to your second question: ‘What am I going to do? I am going to do ‘nothing,’ Mr. Moore. ‘Nothing,’ is what I am going to do.”

“Why? What do you want? Tell me!!! I’ll pay you anything!!!”

“Ahh! You see Mr. Moore, you’ve gotten to the heart of the situation. Mr. Moore: I WOULDN’T TOUCH YOUR BALLS FOR A MILLION DOLLARS!”

“What about two million dollars?”

“No way in hell…”

Moore groans…“How about ten million?”

“Ten million, it is! Mr. Moore, you have a deal!!”

All right then – dear reader. Let me now ask you the question I promised in my opening statement.

If Michael Moore and, let’s say – the first ten random people you met today – all came to your office, took off their clothes and asked you to examine every one of their bodily orifices – how much would you want to get paid to perform those examinations?

Remember – it’s not just Michael Moore, we’re talking about. Pick the first ten people you see today and imagine having to paw over their naked bodies all day long. Imagine having to peek into places that even they cannot see.

How much would you want to be paid for each appointment?

A lot? I would think so!

And now – let’s add a few elements to this hypothetical.

Each one of your ‘clients’ has some sort of infectious disease compounded by oozing bodily sores. And each one of these people expects you to breathe the same air as they are breathing and to touch their sores. They also expect you to do this for them in a gentle and caring manner.

Additionally – one half of your clients are guys who work at the fish docks. They have been hurt on the job. They have come to your office straight from work.

Not one of them had time to go to the fumigator or put his or her body through a car wash.

Now how much would you charge to pat and rub the bodies of your naked clients in an office that now smells like old Sea Bass?

Lots and lots and lots of money!! Right?

Of course!

Then why does Michael Moore, who – despite his politics and his lies is obviously an intelligent man - believe that - after you served twelve years of your life to achieve your medical education - you would want to palpate his nuts and, say, do a colonoscopy on him for, say, twenty bucks?

Well, Michael Moore is not only a purveyor of propaganda, he is apparently a believer in the propaganda of others.

He must truly have been suckered into believing that young men and women go into medicine for one reason and one reason only: ‘to help mankind.’

Yeah……Right.

Dear Reader, if you have a high school classmate who became a doctor, I want you to think back to your days in school with that person.

Was the Future Doctor you knew a person who was an ‘artsy’ type? Was he or she the type of person who was always leading little protest movements to save the starving people of “Any Third World Country?”

Was he or she the type of person who volunteered to do anything that wasn’t specifically recommended to help improve their resume for medical school?

No. And why? Because they were not stupid, that's why.

The kids who were determined to go into medicine were technical and scientific worker bees. And, like the bees, they worked day and night – skipping parties – avoiding wasted time – single-mindedly pursuing their goals to become doctors. And – not only to become doctors – BUT:

To become WEALTHY!!! [Not "J. P. Morgan Wealthy" - but certainly 'well-to-do.']

Yes!! Let’s say it! Forget the medical associations and their public relations stuff – they worked their noses to the grindstone so they could make a bundle of money! They wanted to make a bundle of money so they could have a nice home and provide for their families.

Oh – and – yeah, incidentally – we are the beneficiaries of a side-effect to all this worker bee activity in high school which was induced by the profit motive.

That side effect: Human beings were benefited, and a little piece of the world was saved each time these worker bees -- who became doctors – opened an office for business.

There was another tremendous side-effect from which humankind benefited: Some – not all – but some of those doctors dedicated portions of their lives to volunteer work.

Why?

BECAUSE THEY COULD AFFORD TO WORK AS VOLUNTEERS A FEW WEEKS A YEAR FOR NOTHING AND STILL AFFORD A SUMMER HOME, A MERCEDES, AND A BOAT!!!

Why?

Because: THEY ACQUIRED WEALTH BY PRACTICING MEDICINE!!! With their families fed and clothed, with college education money socked away - they could then afford to donate some of their hard-earned skills for charitable purposes!!!

For goodness sake, people – get a grip on reality.

Do the students who are less technically inclined become plumbers because they have an idealistic desire to bring ‘piping’ to the world?

Uh-uh. That’s not why they show up and stick their hands in our toilets.

They do it because it pays damned well. They do it because they can afford a summer home located next door to their doctor’s summer home.

Michael Moore has the same stupid flaw in his thought process that afflicted Karl Marx and his insane ideas about communism:

Moore and Marx forgot – or never knew - that people work to improve their own lives.

The profit motive is what makes them do it.

They may or may not also be motivated, secondarily, to ‘help their fellow human beings.’

But – and here’s the irony of the situation – the insight that Moore and Marx missed:

IT
DOES NOT MATTER IF PEOPLE WORK HARD AT HIGH PAYING JOBS FOR THE BENEFIT OF MANKIND OR FOR THE BENEFIT OF THEIR OWN ‘SELFISH’ LITTLE FAMILIES:

EITHER WAY, WE ALL BENEFIT.

We benefit through the payment of taxes by the wealthy; by their creation of jobs; by their creation of medicines; by their creation of plumbing and by their opening of doctors’ offices.

We benefit by the creation of wealth.

And, it is because people in America have the possibility to create and acquire wealth that we have the greatest health care system in the world.

Remember – Britain has socialized health care. And, by all American standards, doctors in Britain are just barely middle class.


You must also keep in mind that when I say those doctors are just barely British middle class - that I'm referring to a British middle class - and that is several notches below what we consider to be American middle class.

When I visited Britain in the 1970’s, I was a second year public school teacher in Massachusetts. I was earning $9,800 dollars per year.

And guess what? I was making just one thousand dollars less per year than a fully licensed British medical doctor working under Britain’s National Health system.

[It might interest you to know that, at the same time, a college friend of mine was in his second year of medical practice in America. He was making ten times as much money as I was.]

There are a couple of other problems with eliminating the profit motive as was done in the British system.


The creation of the National Health System [NHS] in Britan resulted, many years ago, in a huge escaping migration of British doctors to Canada where they could make some decent coin.


Then - the Canadians, displaying an odd sense of humor, instituted their own 'single-payer' system and once again ruined the financial futures of the British doctors who had migrated.


The result, British doctors who moved to Canada, now want to come to the States.


But there's also been another effect created by Britain's socialized NHS that was unforeseen.


With the emigration of smart and motivated British born doctors to Canada, and now to the U.S. to avoid socialism, the Brit's have had to recruit foreign-born and foreign-trained doctors to fill the British medical positions.


Most recently it was reported that some 30 to 40 per cent of British doctors are now foreign-born physicians who emigrated to Britain to practice medicine.


And why did they move to Britain? For the money?


Uh-uh.


They emigrated because, for the most part, they were born and raised in Middle-Eastern hell-hole countries where toilets are a luxury item and where Katusha Rockets and Incoming Mortar Rounds are considered part of the weather report.


For them, anything was a step up.


Of course that has had another unintended consequence. Some of those physicians have taken up the hobby of bomb-making and we've recently seen the results of that actitivity.


Back to my personal experiences:


If I had stayed at teaching for ten years, I would have made twice as much as a British doctor was then making per year.

But, even though I loved it – I left teaching and went to law school.

And do you know why?



I left because there wasn't enough money in teaching. And why didn't I take up the profession of medicine?


Because no matter what I was paid, I never wanted to see my clients naked, let alone have to palapate any part of their bodies.


The defenses rests - case closed.

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