Posted on 05/19/2020 10:02:13 PM PDT by MarvinStinson
This week’s column starts in a Georgia ghetto, and ends in the Middle East.
Some of you might remember Anthony Stokes. He was a 15-year-old DeKalb County, Ga., hood rat with a bum ticker who kept getting passed over for a heart transplant because of his “high risk” lifestyle, which included burglary, weapons charges, arson, and neglecting to take his prescribed meds.
Seeing how donor hearts aren’t found on trees (or in Dollar Trees), doctors were reluctant to give a young crime lord in training one of the precious organs. So Anthony’s granmoms or auntie or whoever the hell was raising him went to the local civil rights shysters screaming racism. Social justice gorgon Tara Culp-Ressler, managing editor of ThinkProgress, ginned up a media campaign, which soon went national. Anthony was given his heart transplant in record time by doctors who were basically told, “Perform this operation or you’re Mengele.”
Anthony Stokes was now armed with a new, healthy heart with a kickin’ beat. He was also armed with a variety of handguns, one of which he used on an old lady whose front door he kicked in during a brazen home-invasion robbery. After shooting at his elderly victim but missing, Tony carjacked a passerby, ran over a pedestrian, and lost control of the vehicle, smashing full-speed into a SunTrust Bank sign, closing his personal account for good.
Just as the doctors had feared when they wisely advised against giving this waste of carbon a healthy human heart, Anthony Stokes not only squandered his “second chance at life,” and he not only destroyed a donor organ that could have gone to a more deserving recipient, but he also damn near murdered two people who would not have been in harm’s way had Stokes’ timeline been allowed to expire naturally.
The Stokes affair took place in 2015. Back then, the story didn’t resonate with me like it does now. I’ve written in the past about my “Youthful Ward” who lived with me for a few years. What I haven’t mentioned is that her teenage brother came to live with us as well, for medical reasons. He’d been born with only one functioning kidney, which was in the process of failing. In order to qualify for a donor organ, the boy had to be 100% drug-free for a lengthy period of time, a challenge in his sleepy Nebraska hometown, where smoking pot and skateboarding is what teens do all day. So, we moved him to L.A. to keep a watchful eye on him 24/7. And even though we successfully kept him off the weed, the number of hoops he had to jump through just to be considered for a kidney kept growing and growing.
At one point, he was removed from the organ recipient list for “depression” (like a kid who’s facing death shouldn’t be a tad melancholic). At every turn, the doctors fussed and worried over whether he’d be “worthy” of that kidney. We couldn’t scream racism or sexism; we couldn’t twist arms. We had no angle, no advocate. And the process dragged on for years. No one cared about whether this white kid lived or died.
After Anthony Stokes pancaked himself against that bank sign, I asked Ms. Culp-Ressler if she had any regrets about forcing the issue and overriding the doctors’ concerns. After implying that I’m racist for calling her out on the matter, she admitted that the blowback she’d faced since Stokes became billboard graffiti had been very hard on her: “The vast majority of the emails I’ve received over the past several days (since Stokes’ death) have been incredibly rude, condescending, and full of unfounded assumptions about me. Reading through them all caused my patience to wear thin.”
Poor dear; it’s all about her.
“If we just pump a trillion dollars into the East St. Louis school system, we can totally graduate a generation of rocket scientists.” To answer my question about regret, she directed me to a quote about Stokes by “respected medical ethicist” Art Caplan: “The bottom line is I don’t really think today’s sad events mean we shouldn’t have given him a chance. We didn’t know what would happen to him.”
“We didn’t know.”
No, Einstein, we all knew. The doctors certainly knew, but they were forced to disregard their knowledge in the service of ideologues who are incapable of facing one of the ugliest truths about mankind: Some people are unsalvageable. Notice I said “ideologues” and not “leftists,” because rejection of the concept of unsalvageability is found across the ideological spectrum. Be it Jesus, the government, or any number of other icons, authors, or belief systems, most ideologues claim a savior for whom or for which nothing is impossible, including fixing the unfixable.
And to prove their point, these true believers will gladly put the rest of us in jeopardy.
The do-gooders who thought Anthony Stokes could be redeemed took a healthy donor heart out of circulation, thus denying it to any number of worthier candidates. And two lives were nearly taken during Stokes’ post-transplant crime wave. Others paid for that brief extension of life he received. And while that extension was due mainly to leftist race hustlers, it was also facilitated by generally decent people who couldn’t—wouldn’t—grasp that even though his heart could be replaced, his basic nature couldn’t.
This denial of reality has forged a nation lousy with unsalvageables. I broached that topic last year regarding Baltimore. That city is an example of what happens when an area reaches what I call Critical Mass Unsalvageables (CMU). When you get too many unsalvageables in one area, the area itself becomes unsalvageable. The little old ladies in Baltimore want the same things as little old ladies anywhere: to walk to the store, go to church, enjoy tea with friends. But the good people of that city are stymied in the face of CMU; unsalvageables outnumber decent folks to such an extent, people with aspirations are dragged down and reformers are rendered impotent. That’s what unsalvageables do in large numbers; like hive-mind aliens, they instinctively terraform the environment to suit their needs.
There is only one sensible approach to an area that has been afflicted with CMU: quarantine. Give the people who by their own merits can leave as much help as possible to leave. And then wall that shit up, figuratively if not literally. As I wrote in 2018, think “urban reservations.” Shrink them with gentrification until you’ve gotten them as small as possible, and then write ’em off. Even the most beautiful country still needs landfills, places that are out of sight and mind, where the rats reign supreme. Nuclear waste dumps for radioactive people.
If this seems extreme, it’s no more so than the left’s position on such matters, which is the exact opposite of quarantine—the importation of urban rot to areas where it doesn’t exist; dispersal rather than isolation.
Had Anthony Stokes died waiting for a new heart, his advocates would’ve claimed that if we’d only given the kid a chance, he’d have grown up to cure cancer or invent the hovercar. The cold reality of how things turned out will not shake them from that fantasy. They’ll continue to support the abolishment of the criminal justice system (because those teens who raped and murdered that woman just need us to believe in them and they’ll become good, productive citizens), and they’ll continue to push for the mass importation of foreign iterations of Anthony Stokes, because “they’ll be inspired by our freedoms” (the leftist version of “they hate us for our freedoms”).
Because these poor blind fools just know that they can salvage the unsalvageable.
And they’re all too willing to bet your life on it.
When he got out the new judge said he was a-going to make a man of him. So he took him to his own house, and dressed him up clean and nice, and had him to breakfast and dinner and supper with the family, and was just old pie to him, so to speak. And after supper he talked to him about temperance and such things till the old man cried, and said he’d been a fool, and fooled away his life; but now he was a-going to turn over a new leaf and be a man nobody wouldn’t be ashamed of, and he hoped the judge would help him and not look down on him. The judge said he could hug him for them words; so he cried, and his wife she cried again; pap said he’d been a man that had always been misunderstood before, and the judge said he believed it. The old man said that what a man wanted that was down was sympathy, and the judge said it was so; so they cried again. And when it was bedtime the old man rose up and held out his hand, and says:
“Look at it, gentlemen and ladies all; take a-hold of it; shake it. There’s a hand that was the hand of a hog; but it ain’t so no more; it’s the hand of a man that’s started in on a new life, and’ll die before he’ll go back. You mark them words—don’t forget I said them. It’s a clean hand now; shake it—don’t be afeard.”
So they shook it, one after the other, all around, and cried. The judge’s wife she kissed it. Then the old man he signed a pledge—made his mark. The judge said it was the holiest time on record, or something like that. Then they tucked the old man into a beautiful room, which was the spare room, and in the night some time he got powerful thirsty and clumb out on to the porch-roof and slid down a stanchion and traded his new coat for a jug of forty-rod, and clumb back again and had a good old time; and towards daylight he crawled out again, drunk as a fiddler, and rolled off the porch and broke his left arm in two places, and was most froze to death when somebody found him after sun-up. And when they come to look at that spare room they had to take soundings before they could navigate it.
The judge he felt kind of sore. He said he reckoned a body could reform the old man with a shotgun, maybe, but he didn’t know no other way.
Thank you for that.
Mark Twain was no dummy.
The writer of this article is correct and incredibly racist
One can be both at the same time in some instances
God knows I go off sometimes with my emotions filled and say racist things
I’m not a writer.
Who should be proofreading is work to make sure he just doesn’t come across as a hateful vengeful racist
I wonder if he is a Christian. Or just one of those part-time ones
I myself am guilty of being a part-time one. I am trying
He is 100% percent correct about the transplant being wasted. I never said he wasn’t
Daaaamn......this just made me go down a David Cole/Stein rabbit hole. What a long strange trip he’s had.
Thanks for posting.
No, I didn’t get that impression at all. He is saying that some people, institutions, nationalities and ideologies are beyond redemption, not that race itself contributes to the condition. It’s a classic error to believe that if (for example) you criticize a black man, your criticism is founded on his being black. And it’s more often than not true that once a person reaches a certain level of badness, and the badness becomes ingrained within him, that person is beyond any viable attempt to redeem him.
Facts are not racist. Some people are unsalvageable. The color of their skin has nothing to do with it.
L
the author is not racist at all
This sentence is unintelligible. Perhaps some words are missing in it?
Me thinks your work could also use some proofreading.
Regards,
I don’t see anything racist about it.
Any racism was in the thug’s champions suggesting folks were racist for not immediately giving him a new heart and perhaps an ass kissing.
Sadly, Ahmaud Arbery was unsalvageable and that led to his confrontation and death
I have always maintained the every city needs a slum area actually fenced off. Where prostitution and drugs are mostly ignored and the governments main job is to pickup the garbage and the bodies. But, any thug or whore that tries to ply their trade outside of those boundaries find themselves on a chain gang.
We exported our jobs and imported crime and poverty. For example Baltimore, it was a hard working productive industrial city, that is until globalists Free Traitors™ gutted it and ruined it. But they got a nice aquarium in the deal...
I wouldn’t be surprised if we’re going there. Sort of like “Pleasure Island” in Pinocchio. If that sort of thing is what someone considers pleasure, then they can move into the fenced off area until they die. But keep that stuff away from normal people who wish to live according to higher standards.
I don’t understand why you contend the author is racist. To my eyes, he is pointing out the facts surrounding two disparate transplant situations, where the cry of racism was used in one to overcome the clear pattern of criminal behavior by the recipient.
As Christians, we are not called to ignore racism and hatred - we are called to combat it. Acknowledging the reality of someone’s ongoing behavior is not racist at all - it is knowing the person by their fruit.
American society is plagued by a well-trained Pavlovian response to the word “racist” combined with an extremely racist definition of the word, where only certain ethnicities can be adjudged to harbor racist thoughts because of a supposed “imbalance of power”. The Pavlovian response ingrained into us is to cower in fear, and to hurl ourselves against the spikes protruding from the shield of the word “racist” as if in bleeding we absolve the “sin” our accusers proclaim.
Racism is real, but it is not what American society proclaims it to be. Racism is the inherent belief in superiority or inferiority of one or more races (or ethnic groups).
Highlighting the weaponized use of the word “racism” cannot be, in and of itself, racist, IMO.
Racist how? Quote from the article.
The mind was the disease that should have been transplanted, yes the heart was wasted on this cretan
Hood rat for starters. This one’s so easy don’t bother me with it again
And yeah I say some pretty bad stuff sometimes so I know it when I see it.
I’m trying
It was completely wrong to get this person a perfectly good kidney knowing they were going to waste it and look what they did.
But there was no reason to use other names.
If it was an Italian neighborhood like mine I would have cared quite a bit if he used the word wop.
Hood rat is not a compliment :-)
The transplant system is corrupted by money unfortunately. My sister has had 2 kidney transplants. The first was my mom’s kidney. This they can’t stop - a parent donating an organ to their child. My sister was only 3. At the time she was the youngest child ever to have an adult kidney transplanted. It was a pioneering surgery that took place in Boston’s Children’s hospital in the early 1970’s.
This kidney lasted 9 years before he body rejected it. She then went on the transplant waiting list and dialysis for the next 8 years. While on the list waiting saw at least 5 kids from Saudi Arabia have transplants done in Boston. All from the extended royal family. The nurses and doctors told us what they could, but bottom line - millions of Saudi dollars talked.
Any reason you left out the additional paragraphs (Kurt Schleichter, international problem of unsalvageables, etc)? Just curious.
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