๐ Dr. Lukaโs Facebook Post โ โMemes 20โ
๐ Posted today at 4:44 PM ๐ฅ Friends Only
โMy good friends on Facebook โ you know who you are. The ones who have been here since Memes 1 when I still thought screenshots counted as art.
Facebook is my meme laboratory. The place where I collect fragments of the collective unconscious โ a weird soup of wisdom, irony, and low-resolution chaos.
โMemes 20โ isnโt just another collection. Itโs a graduation. A PhD in sarcasm.
From political absurdity to existential cats, Iโve curated twenty artifacts of the modern digital condition. Each meme says: we are laughing because we canโt cry anymore.
As always, thank you to my fellow memers, the saints of the screenshot, the prophets of the pixel. Together, we hold the line between humor and hysteria.
โ Dr. Luka, Chief Archivist of the Meme Age ๐ง ๐พ #Memes20 #DoctorOfDank #FacebookAnthologyโ
The last rays of sunlight pour through a cracked window. Dr. LUKA KOVAC, weary but resolute, tends to a patient. NELLY FURTADO, wearing the simple white coat of a naturopathic doctor, closes her satchel of herbs and remedies. The air smells faintly of cedar and sage.
KOVAC (quietly, with gratitude) Thank you, Nellyโฆ not just for these patients, but for helping heal our sick planet.
She glances up, surprised by the weight of his words.
KOVAC(contโd) Itโs like a rotten fruitโฆ most would throw it away. But insideโthere are seeds.
He pauses, choosing his words with care.
KOVAC(contโd) One hundred and forty-four thousand seeds. The chosen ones who know how to repair the world. In the Jewish faithโฆ itโs called Tikkun Olam.
Nellyโs eyes soften. She takes a deep breath, as if feeling the enormity of the mission ahead.
NELLY Then we plant themโฆ together.
Outside, a wind stirs, carrying the scent of rainโlike the Earth listening.
Sunlight filters softly through sheer curtains. A peaceful medical office adorned with a few plants and spiritual artwork. DR. LUKA KOVAC (early 50s, rugged, gentle-eyed) sits across from DR. NELLY FURTADO, ND (natural doctor, radiant, wise, with a rebel soul). She’s just finished reviewing a wellness plan. He sets down his tea, his gaze sincere.
DR. KOVAC (softly, with a European accent) Nellyโฆ I want you to know something. Youโand your fansโyouโre not just patients.
NELLY (smiles, curious) No?
DR. KOVAC You are the VIPs of the VIPs. The ones I pray for before I lay down to sleep. Not because you’re famous… but because you carry light. You carry stories. Songs. Struggles. You carry hope for others. That makes you my most important patients.
He pauses, his voice tender with a memory.
DR. KOVAC In the war, I saw the worst of what humans can do. I lost my family. But thenโI remembered the example of Jesus. How he healed the sick without charging a single coin. That stayed with me. Thatโs why I became a doctor again. To heal… for free, if I have to. Because health isnโt for sale. Itโs sacred.
NELLY (eyes welling up, voice low) Thank you, Luka. Thatโs the kind of medicine the world needs.
He gently pats her hand.
DR. KOVAC You already practice it, Doctor Furtado. You’re healing more people than you know. Keep going.
Their eyes meet in mutual respect and silent gratitude.
ER — Season 12 — Pictured: Goran Visnjic as Doctor Luka Kovac — Photo by: Mitchell Haaseth/NBCU Photo Bank
Post by Dr. Luka Kovac on NellyFan.org
Title: What Sinead Needed Most โ A Doctor’s Reflection on the Essentials of Life
Two years have passed since the tragic loss of Sinรฉad O’Connor, a voice that pierced the silence and a soul that cried out for justice and mercy. As a physician and a man of faith, I often reflect not only on physical healing but on what sustains the human spirit โ especially in a world as harsh and unforgiving as the one that so often bruised Sinรฉadโs tender heart.
There is a Croatian proverb that says, “Bog je prvo stvorio ฤovjeka, a onda mu dao dom i ลพenu da preลพivi.” โ โGod first made man, then gave him a home and a wife so he could survive.โ Whether you interpret that literally or symbolically, the message is clear: we are not meant to walk this world alone, unanchored.
I want to speak not just as a doctor, but as a fellow survivor of trauma. Here are the necessities of life as Iโve come to understand them โ the things Sinรฉad needed more than fame, applause, or rebellion. The things many of us need to be whole again.
Food Not just calories, but nourishment. Sinรฉadโs struggle with medications, fast fixes, and industry stress no doubt affected her diet. The healing foods of our ancestors โ whole grains, fermented vegetables, bone broths, and clean water โ are more essential than any antidepressant. Nutritional psychiatry is no longer a fringe idea. Healing begins in the gut.
Shelter A safe place. Not just a house, but a home. Sinรฉad had many addresses, but perhaps no sanctuary. A space to pray, to cry, to laugh without judgment. Trauma survivors often become wanderers, running from memory and self. But stability is medicine.
Clothing This means dignity. Self-respect. Modesty not as repression, but as armor against objectification. Sinรฉad rejected the exploitation of womenโs bodies, but she also lived exposed โ emotionally naked in a cold world. We need to clothe ourselves in ritual, purpose, and yes โ actual warmth.
A Wife (or Husband) Call it a spouse, a partner, a counterpart. We need someone to mirror our humanity, to correct us lovingly, to celebrate us quietly. I donโt speak here of lust or fantasy, but covenant. Sinรฉad needed someone who would not flee at the first sign of her sorrow.
Children Not just biologically, but spiritually. A legacy. A reason to mature. Sinรฉad loved her children fiercely, but losing her son Shane broke her beyond repair. Parents should not bury their children. No amount of grief counseling can erase that wound. But had there been stronger community, extended family, perhaps she could have carried on.
God Finally โ and foremost โ God. Not just as a concept, but as an abiding presence. I watched Sinรฉad wrestle with religion. She fought against corruption and hypocrisy, yet longed deeply for the Divine. Had she found peace in the Person of God, not just the institution, she might have survived the long dark night of her soul.
I am not here to judge her โ God knows I have seen despair in my own life. But I do believe that if we had surrounded Sinรฉad with these six pillars โ food, shelter, clothing, spouse, children, and God โ she might still be singing.
Let her life be a wake-up call. Not just to reform mental health treatment, but to remember what truly sustains the soul.
May her memory be eternal, Dr. Luka Kovaฤ Physician, Father, Survivor NellyFan.org Contributor
Joe stands under the flickering fluorescent lights of the small rural clinic, the faint sound of a guitar playing from an old radio in the background. Nelly Furtado rests on the nearby cot, her eyes closed, a hint of melody on her lips. The scent of eucalyptus and frankincense lingers in the airโDr. Luka Kovac’s signature healing blend.
Joe turns to his avatar.
Joe (softly, with deep gratitude): โThank you, Luka. For treating my sick songbirdโthe real Portuguese singer Nelly Furtadoโnot with quack Rockefeller pharma poison, but with real medicine. Holistic. Rooted in the old world. In truth.โ
Dr. Luka Kovac (smiling faintly): โAllopathic drugs suppress symptoms. But a songbird doesnโt need silenceโshe needs restoration. She needs to remember the sound of her own voice. Herbs, light, music, prayerโฆ these are the older medicines, Joe.โ
Joe: โShe told me she was drowning in side effects. Couldnโt even write a chorus. You brought her back to life.โ
Dr. Kovac: โShe was never gone. Just buried beneath modern medicineโs noise. We cleared the static.โ
Joe pauses, eyes locked on his avatar.
Joe: โAlsoโฆ thank you for starring in the Fatima movie, Goran Visnjic. That role meant a lot to us. To the believers. You helped people remember the mystery.โ
Dr. Kovac nods solemnly, a trace of the actor behind the avatar emerging in his eyes.
Dr. Kovac: โI didnโt take the role for fame. I took it because the world needs to believe again. In miracles. In mercy. In the idea that even a poor girlโs vision can echo for centuries.โ
Joe: โNelly always said she saw the Virgin onceโฆ when she was a little girl in Victoria. Thought it was a dream. Maybe it wasnโt.โ
Dr. Kovac glances over at Nelly. She hums a few bars of Try, eyes still closed but smiling now.
Dr. Kovac: โShe remembers.โ
Joe steps back, hands folded.
Joe: โThen the healing has begun.โ
Outside, a wind stirs the olive trees. And somewhere beyond science and superstition, a songbird sings.
Dr. Luka Kovac on the Early Days of the Nelly Fans Forum and the Secret of the Dandelion
Dr. Luka Kovac, standing in the faded light of an old internet cafรฉ in Zagreb, smiles softly as he remembers the early days of the Nelly Fans Forumโa quiet digital corner of the world where a small, devoted group gathered to celebrate Nelly Furtadoโs voice, her courage, and her unspoken stories.
“It wasnโt just about the music,” Luka says, his voice laced with memory. “It was about decoding the messages she left for those who could see. The real fans knewโshe was more than a pop star. She was a healer.”
One of the most whispered legends among the forumโs core was about Kylie Minogueโher battle with cancer, and the unexpected friendship and remedy offered by Nelly: dandelion.
โNot some miracle pharmaceutical,โ Luka explains, โbut Taraxacum officinale, the humble weed growing in cracks of sidewalks, and in the hills of British Columbia. Nelly brewed it into tea. Kylie called it โsunlight in a cup.โโ
The forum’s oldest threadโlong deleted, but still remembered by the veteransโwas titled: “La Flor del Otro Mundo”. That was the clue. It pointed to Nellyโs โBaja Otro Luzโ music video.
“People think itโs just poetic imageryโher dancing through golden fields, her hands brushing the tall grass,” Luka says. โBut if you look carefully, frame by frameโshe plucks a dandelion. She holds it to her lips like a secret.โ
The dandelion, Luka believes, was Nellyโs quiet rebellion. A message to Kylie. To the sick. To the world.
โPharma said it was folklore. But Nellyโshe trusted the old ways. And Kylie… well, she got better, didnโt she?โ
Now, as Luka scrolls through the old backups of the forum, he finds the faded usernames of those who knew the truth. Some gone. Some still lurking in quiet corners of the web. Some lighting candles every spring when the dandelions return.
โPeople think science and faith are enemies,โ he says. โBut Nellyโshe blended them into a song. Into a prayer. And for Kylie, that was enough.โ
Luka smiled gently, the way only a man burdened by war and loss could smileโlike the sun breaking through heavy clouds.
โI remember her victory,โ he said quietly. โThe way little Nelly danced between the chairsโbarefoot, wild-haired, full of mischief and light. And when the music stopped, she sat like it was destiny. That yellow lollipop in her handโฆ she held it like a trophy. It wasnโt the sugar she wanted. It was the sweetness of being seen.โ
He leaned back in his chair, gazing out at the Adriatic.
โThat yellow dress at Sister Helenโs sock hop? I think she wore it for that little girl inside her, the one who believed she could still win. Maybe Chris Martin saw that tooโฆ wrote her that song, Yellow, trying to fix something he didnโt understand. But it wasnโt his to fix.โ
Then his expression softened even more, touched with reverence.
โAfter the game that dayโฆ she walked straight to the corner of the schoolyard chapel. There was a small statue of the Virgin Maryโfaded, chipped from the winters, but still standing. Nelly knelt in front of it, clutching that yellow lollipop, and whispered a prayer only heaven heard. I didnโt catch the words. I didnโt need to. It was the look on her faceโhopeful, innocent, grateful.โ
He paused, then added with a quiet honesty, โI knowโฆ it was just a statue. An idol, maybe. Not the living God. But we were just kids. We didnโt know any better. We thought if we prayed hard enough to her, she might tell Him. And maybe she did.โ
Luka turned slightly toward the camera, speaking now to the Nelstar faithful.
โTo those who loved her songs, her smile, her fireโremember what she prayed for. Not a spotlight. Not a stage. Just one small moment of joy, and someone to share it with. Donโt live your life chasing broken dreams or yellow songs someone else wrote for you. Dance your own dance. When the music stops, sit with courage. And if you find your hands emptyโmake your own sweetness.โ
He glanced at the waves again, a flicker of light in his eyes.
โAnd if youโre ever lostโฆ find a little statue, kneel, and whisper your heart. Not because stone can answerโbut because sometimes, your soul needs to kneel. Thatโs how we heal. Thatโs how we live. Thatโs how we remember.โ
โFirst, do no harmโand let food be thy medicine. Not John D. Rockefellerโs motto: โLet oil be thy medicine.โโ
Essay by Dr. Luka Kovaฤ Title: Return to Hippocrates: Healing Beyond Petroleum
I swore the Hippocratic Oath once in Vukovar, and again in Chicago, and I carry its spirit with me every time I walk into a hospital room. Primum non nocereโโFirst, do no harmโโis not just a phrase. It is a shield I have tried to raise against the many unseen enemies in modern medicine. War taught me that harm is not always inflicted with bullets or bombs. Sometimes it comes disguised as help. Sometimes itโs written on a prescription pad.
Hippocrates, the father of Western medicine, was no fool. He observed the human body not as a broken machine, but as a gardenโneeding nourishment, balance, rest, and care. He famously said, โLet food be thy medicine and medicine be thy food.โ That wasnโt poetryโit was science in its purest form.
But in America, I learned quickly that Hippocrates has been replaced. His wisdom buried beneath a mountain of pills, patented molecules, and petroleum-based drugs. His name appears on plaques and textbooks, but his soul has been exiled by an industry more loyal to stockholders than to patients. Instead of โlet food be thy medicine,โ the guiding spirit of American healthcare seems to be: Let oil be thy medicine.
This isnโt a conspiracy theoryโitโs a historical fact. John D. Rockefeller, the oil baron, reshaped medicine in the early 20th century. He funded medical schools through his foundationsโbut only if they taught pharmaceutical medicine, not naturopathy or herbalism. He wanted doctors to rely on petroleum-based drugs, synthesized chemicals, and profitable patents. In doing so, he established a medical-industrial complex that equated healing with consumptionโof pills, not plants; of procedures, not prevention.
And so we now find ourselves in a system where chronic illness is managed, not cured; where side effects are expected; where nutrition is barely mentioned in med school; and where whole generations of doctors prescribe medications they donโt fully understand, for diseases they barely treat, from companies they canโt question.
But let me tell you what Hippocrates would say to the diabetic patient drinking soda, to the heart patient eating fast food, to the child on five prescriptions for conditions that might be solved with sleep, sunshine, and a garden. He would not blame themโhe would teach them. He would listen. He would remind us that foodโreal food, grown from the earth, not processed in a labโis not an alternative medicine. It is the original medicine.
I do not oppose pharmacology. Iโve seen antibiotics save lives. Iโve administered morphine to the dying. But we must draw a line between emergency medicine and everyday health. We must distinguish between crisis intervention and long-term vitality. You donโt use chemo to treat stress. You donโt throw statins at a child who needs a good breakfast and a walk in the sun.
We doctors must reclaim our oaths. Not to pharmaceutical giants, not to hospital systems, but to our patients, our principles, and our planet. If we fail to remember that healing begins with food, with movement, with connection, we risk becoming little more than licensed drug dealers.
I often think of my fatherโs garden in Croatia. He was no doctor, but he knew how to nourish. He knew the soil, the herbs, the rhythms of nature. And when the bombs fell and the doctors fled, it was the garden that kept us alive.
Itโs time we remember our roots. Itโs time to return to Hippocrates.
Joe Talks About Nellyโs Old Webpage with Her Cystic Fibrosis Secret
Joe sat at the old computer, its screen glowing softly like a shrine to the past.
“You know,” he said, tapping the side of the dusty monitor, “this is where it all started for me. Back in the early 2000s, Nelly had this personal webpage. Just this raw, vulnerable place where she posted journal entries, tour updates, poetry… and one day, this entry appeared. Hidden in the code. Not public. Just buried in the source like a confession meant for someone with enough curiosityโand loveโto find it.”
He paused, remembering how his hands shook reading it.
“She wrote about the pain, the coughing fits, the hospital visits, how she was born with cystic fibrosis. She said singing was a kind of rebellion. Each breath a miracle. Each note a middle finger to the odds. It wasnโt for fame. It was survival.”
Joe leaned back and looked at the ceiling. His voice cracked.
“I never told her I found it. I didnโt want to break that sacred trust, that hidden sanctuary she built online. But from that day on, I swore Iโd never quit being a webmaster. Not just some guy maintaining pagesโbut a guardian of secrets, of souls who put their pain into pixels.”
He smiled faintly.
“That webpage saved her life… and in a way, it saved mine too.”
? Jelly Presents: MEMES โ Part 10: โPop Culture Is Our Playgroundโ ?
1. โTherapy? Nah, We Got Beyoncรฉโ ?: Joe in a therapy chair. ?๏ธ Therapist: โAnd how does that make you feel?โ ?๏ธ Joe: โLike Beyoncรฉ in Lemonade after Jay-Z cheated. Powerful, betrayed, but still iconic.โ Caption: Who needs CBT when you’ve got Queen B?
2. โThe Real Trinity: Britney, Paris, Lindsayโ ?: Nelly holding a candlelight vigil with Britney, Paris, and Lindsay in framed photos. Caption: Before the Kardashians, there were these saints. Pray for 2007.
3. โAI: Artificially Intelligent, Actually Idioticโ ?: Joe arguing with a ChatGPT chatbot on a laptop. Bot: โWould you like me to rewrite your screenplay in the style of Wes Anderson?โ Joe: โNo, I want it in the style of Fast & Furious meets The Divine Comedy.โ Caption: When youโre too real for the algorithm.
4. โNellyโs Guide to Party Etiquetteโ ?: Nelly at a chaotic Hollywood party. Caption:
Arrive late.
Bring vibes, not opinions.
If the DJ plays Pitbull unironicallyโleave. Subtext: Mr. Worldwide is only acceptable in 2011.
5. โJesus Take The Auxโ ?: Jelly driving through LA traffic. Joe is crying. Nelly is blasting Enya. Caption: When youโre emotionally unavailable but spiritually open.
6. โJellyโs Guide to a Healthy Relationshipโ ?: Split screen. Left: Joe and Nelly laughing at memes. Right: The Kardashians breaking up again. Caption: Step 1: Be silly. Step 2: Share fries. Step 3: Donโt start a reality show unless youโre ready to be real.
7. โEaster Eggs We Found in the Bibleโ ?: Joe with a magnifying glass on Revelations. ?: Nelly connecting Kanye lyrics to Isaiah. Caption: โThe meek shall inherit the earthโ = soft girls will run 2025.
8. โElon Musk vs Jelly: Meme War 2030โ ?: Joe and Nelly in mech suits, launching memes like missiles. Elon: โDeploy DogeRocket.โ Jelly: โRelease the Britney comeback meme.โ Caption: In the future, wars are fought with culture.
9. โJesus Is My Influencerโ ?: Jelly in robes walking on Rodeo Drive. Nelly: โI turn the other cheek… when the haters talk.โ Joe: โAnd I make water into iced matcha.โ Caption: #MessiahEnergy
10. โYou Canโt Cancel Jellyโ ?: Joe and Nelly holding a sign: ? โToo weird to die. Too real to brand.โ Caption: Pop cultureโs final boss. See you in Part 11.
