Hi. Innumerate Joel here. Okay, so I had other things on my mind after getting home yesterday and couldn’t successfully complete a simple arithmetic equation. I expected (wild-ass guess) the leg to come in at an estimated $10,000 simply because that’s a nice round and completely absurd number. I spaced on the fact that the total bill is almost twice that, which in the clear light of morning makes a co-pay that’s only 150% of the original estimate sound almost reasonable by comparison.
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They say that Louis XIV had the inscription Ultima Ratio Regum cast into all the cannon of the French Army. It means “The Ultimate Argument of Kings,” and that always struck me as one of the most honest and up-front things any ruler or would-be ruler ever said. “We can dress it up prettier than this, but when it comes down to the unvarnished truth this is what it’s about: You’ll do as I say or I’ll send my goons to kill you.”
I thought about that for a long time. If there’s an ultimate argument, it seems only logical that there must be an ultimate answer. For years I thought the ultimate answer must be the bullets in my rifle, but it never seemed quite right. I’ve got bullets – he’s got frigging Cannon Balls. I mean, if there were three hundred million rifles throwing bullets at him, then maybe. But we all know that’s not going to happen. So if there’s an ultimate answer to his ultimate argument, it sure as hell ain’t bullets.
It finally came to me – and that’s when I abandoned the city and most of my stuff, and gave all that was behind me a good stiff Randian Shrug.
The ultimate answer to kings is not a bullet, but a belly laugh.
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Numberz is hard! I was wondering about your method of figgerin’, but all things considered you appear to be handling the situation quite well. Look at it this way: if you were a guvamint lackey, being off by only a few decimal points would be considered a job well done. Congrats on the new leg.
Toatally OT (I need to vent, if you don’t mind): I do personal care for disabled folks. That means (among other things) wiping butts and flossing teeth- wait, I always get those two confused. Anyway, Official Company Policy wrt possible COVID-19 exposure: maintain at least six feet distance from a client suspected of having COVID-19 Cooties. Um? We are so screwed. Enjoy your desert hermitage, Joel; perhaps you can write our collective epitaph.
My ETA: anyone who can do what you have done ain’t innumerate. And are obviously literate.
Well, it’s starting to look like Corona isn’t going to be the end of humanity, but it might take a generous bite from the oldest generation of humanity. And yes, that demographic would include this writer.