The Boots On Clinic

for people unwilling to settle for less than a moon launch on the way out

There are so many good thinkers and writers here on Substack, just waiting to be realized. Take this amazing commenter, for instance. On my last post, CPJ writes:

I do have a story to tell. It's not exactly linked to the so-called pandemic. Perhaps I will do so one day, or you will inspire me. It's all written actually; except of course what still lies in the future.

In relation to Covid there clearly is massive corruption, but a condition of its possibility is the insane fear we have of dying and the insane trust which we place in the medical establishment and medical procedures to save us from doing so, trust which is very often misplaced, or at least very highly under-merited and which blinds us to so many other sides of illness and of health. Many people were pointing this out in the 2010s; it seems they too have often fallen silent or even, in some cases, managed to switch sides.

The problem is philosophical and it is spiritual. That is abundantly clear. With the connivance of almost all of the world's religions, there is a war going on against those of us who are not afraid to live or die and find the whole commotion simply absurd. Those uncomfortable but at least fleeting moments in doctors' offices have become a generalised global psychosis. The power people accorded to doctors always mystified me. Even where allopathic medicine is needed, it is wise to get a second and third opinion. People may think they are trusting in science, but what they are actually doing is just as superstitious as at any stage in humanity's evolution. They are looking for salvation outside of themselves. Even if it is brought about by allopathic medicine, they still call it a "miracle" if it succeeds. It's perfectly clear that this is a kind of religion. Nobody accepts survival odds rationally. As I see it, if there is no escape from a transcendent mode of relating to one's own mortality, we need to embrace that consciously and see where it leads us. If one believes, or even just hopes, in the possibility of miracles, it is not reasonable to vest that possibility in any external actor. No external actor can be better placed than oneself. These days this is a widespread spiritual understanding, but because it has no name and no authorities, it is inchoate and unacknowledged. Yet it disturbs the establishment vastly, and so is being persecuted. Believing in ones own inner resources, however one thinks about them, has become a moral failing, and in some places, even a crime.

My emphasis added.

CPJ reminded me of a marvelous little piece of writing my late husband Robb produced after his brain cancer diagnosis. Without further ado, here it is.

THE BOOTS ON CLINIC

The “No Boots Left Behind” Cancer Clinic, for people unwilling to settle for less than a moon launch on the way out

by Robert LeChevalier

Coming back from another cancer clinic (in Denver this time), I'm struck how these places exude quiet desperation: patients hooked up to I-V's, half or full asleep, silent suffering and resignation. Then I thought of my own pronouncement here on Facebook awhile ago: I'd rather forego all the "life extending" treatments that suck the life out of you like a jet engine hooked up to your rectum, and leave you laying in a hospital bed with tubes forced down your nose and in your mouth and 27 varieties of I-V's perforating your body, with the drip-drip-drip of steadily increasing doses of chemo and morphine. I'd rather go, I said, standing up, enjoying life, with my boots on.

With that in mind, I got a new concept for a cancer clinic for those with a zest for life: The Boots On Clinic -- a medical regimen for terminal cancer patients, with the *highest* mortality rate of any clinic in the world, and proud of it. Motto: You may not die, but you'll wish you had!! Dedicated to letting you experience all the things you were too frickin' scared to do when you thought you were immortal!

Consider this sampler of these action-filled last days:

Day 1: Orientation. A bungee jump off the Royal Gorge! 2000 feet of sheer heaven... downward!

Day 2: Skydiving without a parachute! Fall fast enough and you might catch the 'chute thrown out before you exit the plane!

For those that survive the daily adventures, they get to join in on the monthly bonus trips:

Month 1: "The Most Dangerous Game": thrown in shark infested waters, you'll have to swim towards the only land in sight, a tropical island inhabited by a Dr. Moreau-type recluse who will invite you to a Last Supper and your role in the next days safari... and the prey! You'll be given a good head start, fully armed with a swiss army knife and a chance to pit your wits against your foes high-powered rifle with telescopic sights, 50 trackers and bush-beaters, and a 20 doberman pinschers! Survive *this* and you'll know you deserve to beat that cancer!

Day 3: Wingsuit jumping! Contemplate your fate as you skim past vertical granite walls at 240 mile-per-hour in a breathtaking fjord in Norway, and wonder if the parachute on your back was *really* packed properly!

Day 4: Rodeo day! Bucking broncos and Brama bulls!

Day 5: Base jumping without a parachute into an inflatable air bag, 5000 feet below, as you witness the beauty of Angel Falls on the way down!

Month 2 special event: Pissed off with the world? Upset by all the corruption around you? Do you think the stress of all this has caused *your* special form of incurable cancer? This is your chance to get revenge! Stage a revolution to overthrow the government of your choice!! All weapons provided (within reason), and a starter band of willing rebels (cancer patients like you). You will be air-dropped by helicopter at night to the capitol signifying your angst, there to stage a coup, arrest, try and execute the leader representing all your woes, and if successful, you will get to lead your new people, till the cancer kills you or they do!

Day 7: Our bi-weekly "shot-out-of-cannon" day.

Day 9: Ever wonder what it would be like to go over Niagara Falls in an inner tube? You're about to find out! Bring your own swimming trunks.

January special event: You will get to prove you really *are* tougher than everyone else, as you wrestle with a pack of lions in this realistic recreation of the premiere social event of ancient Rome -- to the cheers of 100,000 people at the next Super Bowl half-time event.

And more, much, much more, with never a doctor, nurse, I-V bag or syringe to be found. Each day begins and ends with a specially formulated high-caloric diet regardless of your condition, including belgian waffles, pancakes, donuts by the dozen, egg McMuffins, hamburgers and hotdogs right off the hoof, plenty of real sugar soft drinks, and banana splits du jour so loaded with chocolate, strawberry, caramel and pineapple sauce you will be able to feel your lips sucked right into your stomach! More thrill-packed days than you can survive, and never a dull moment, as you live life to its fullest. We guarantee satisfaction or your money back: you go with your *BOOTS ON* and not a tube up your nose!! 

That's the business concept. Any takers?