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The #OWS Crowds’ Sucker Bet on Higher Ed

I admit; I chortled (in a completely inappropriate way):

The number of people participating in the Occupy Wall Street sit-ins because they are angry that their education has not yielded the fruits that they hoped it would becomes more apparent by the day. Many of the protesters I have met are understandably ruffled that they are unemployed, and they often finish their remonstrations with a non-sequitur, delivered as if it were a knockout blow: “And I went to college!” Well, one might ask, “So what?”

I first noticed this “college = good life” fallacy back in England. A close friend of mine was looking for a job straight out of college, and remained unemployed for six months while he searched for what he described as a “graduate job.” Outside of those careers that rely on specific skills and expertise — doctors, veterinarians, and so forth — I have never been sure quite what this term means. My friend has a degree in modern history. Congratulations! But there is no obvious career path for this qualification. Why should it lend itself more to working in, say, finance than to working in a 7-Eleven?

This is why I can’t accept that some among the people Stupid Fucking Hippies, while no doubt earnest, possess anything resembling the ability to bring critical thinking to bear in regards to their “message” when they whine about college debt. I took a full measure of Higher Education™, as offered by CUNY/CSI The Thirteenth Grade, and walked away from the place in disgust… pushed, actually, by a couple of–okay, one was a full professor (who got me a part-time job as a back stage wage slave for a waay the fuck off Broadway company where he was pals with the guy running it, after I had completely ripped off an almighty Harlan Ellison short story and mashed it into a one-act play, leading Prof to believe I had a future in thee-ah-ter… until he read my first original manuscript, which he gave an “A” grade, with a margin note, “You are insane if you think anyone will stage this.”).

The other guy was an adjunct who had just published an ass-kicking novel that CSI’s The Thirteenth Grade”s English Department had studiously ignored (so I ran full page ad in the student rag), and was himself planning to bolt. They both

side note: there was a third guy, who taught “The Bible as Literature” that, on the first day of class, asked everyone why they had signed up for the class. He “hmm” and nodded, and offered an occasional “Interesting,” till he got to me; then, burst out in laughter when I said “Because a bunch of the Old Testament and pretty much all of Revelations is just fucking nuts, and I wanted to talk about that with someone not wearing a Roman collar.”

–told me to run away as fast as I could… sure, jousting with teachers can be fun, they all admitted as much, but in their eyes, I was just wasting time.

As the Prof put it, “you in a classroom here with anybody teaching business approaches the surreal. You staged a coup at the student newspaper because you were pissed off about “flop sweat” getting cut from one of your columns. Yeah, I heard about that; a lot of people here think you’re my pet project. And I’ve heard you’re running riot in the PoliSci faculty, because of the stuff you’ve printed in the student newspaper since then, and I have been told, I quote here, “a penchant to throw the NY Times on the desk with a headline circled in red and say “What about THAT.”

“That only happened once,” I replied. “C’mon, Herb, they call themselves “Political Science” guys and can’t figure out Guy Molinari? That asshole instructor was trying to convince the class that Ronald Reagan was, in fact, a liberal, and bringing up ancient Greece. I told him that classical liberalism died sometime between 1959 and 1965. I asked him, “What about your hero Bobby Kennedy, wiretapping anybody who pissed his brother off, like Martin Luther King?” He wasn’t happy. He was used to feeding the dumb his blithering bullshit and I wouldn’t stand for it. The class turned into a tennis match; I’d volley his bullshit and he’d return his weak claptrap. Everyone else in the room just watched the show….

“And then Gorby fell; THAT was the day’s paper I tossed on the desk. I figured the collapse of the Supreme Soviet King High Heir of Khrushchev deserved discussion in a PoliSci class, even if the rest of the room were ignorant assholes. And he blackballed the topic.”

“And two days later you trashed him in the newspaper,” Herb said.

“I never used his name, department, anything identifying.”

“Except for that “grey haired, four eyed, pony-tailed fool with tenure” bit?”

“Herb, that’s half the fucking male faculty here, including you.”

Anyhoo, they told me to head for the hills, because they both knew I had an overview, which, in those halls of “learning,” was akin to having triple sixes stamped on your forehead. I was 30-odd hard, not 20-dumb stupid. I’d spent some time in the world…I knew how it works. I knew what it mean’s when Daddy is suddenly dead while you are just halfway through ten. When they met me, I’d spent half of my life working, because no one was gonna just give me anything.

And I had read a ton of books before I ever crossed their paths.

At this point, I should delineate the Stupid Fucking Hippies from Asshole Yuppies’ Puppies. The latter are the crew I’m honestly too full from listening to their whining bullshit and are the target for this rant.

Stupid Fucking Hippies are easy and cheap on the dime. They will buy any sad-story song sung in the key of Alinsky, that explains why piercing your face, and covering as much visible skin with tats, PROVES the Man is Against You. Asshole Yuppies’ Puppies are different. When you folks walk into an HR office and the chick behind the desk recoils when she sees you majored in something that ends in “Studies,” it’s not about you; you are a Precious Snowflake. It’s about the Patriarchy, which the chick on the other side of the desk is oblivious to, while also in cahoots with, and if she would only let you explain what your 202 Poli-Sci prof turned you onto, you could show her why you deserve $80K, three weeks paid vaycay, and a full benny package to boot.

You, my strawman jackhole, are a godawful schmuck who deserves to be beaten and robbed. Like this silly bint:

“Stealing is our biggest problem at the moment,” said Nan Terrie, 18, a kitchen and legal-team volunteer from Fort Lauderdale.

“I had my Mac stolen — that was like $5,500. Every night, something else is gone. Last night, our entire [kitchen] budget for the day was stolen, so the first thing I had to do was . . . get the message out to our supporters that we needed food!”

You took a  5 GRAND laptop into a free fire zone, and are all Capt. Renault when you turned your back to it and it got nicked?

Honey, this is NYC; if it ain’t chained down, it’s gone. It’s the way this city rolls.

Asshole Yuppies’ Puppies think they deserve the fruits of society just by existing. They were brought up in the Helicopter wash; where Mom or Dad could fix anything… can’t cut it on the soccer pitch? Easy Peasie; force the league to adopt “no scores; no trophies.” Every one of you loser bastards are special! I believe the reason high schools have cut back so hard on gym classes is because you can’t fake climbing the rope, especially when there is that one show-off who can go up and down while holding his legs parallel to the floor. They couldn’t allow the fat slob dork to be shown to be a fat slob dork, because then his Mom would helicopter in and scream bloody hell that Her Snowflake had been demeaned.

I loved seeing this bit in the Old Gray Lady’s: Countless Grievances, One Thread: We’re Angry:

In Boston, a hub of colleges and universities, a higher education theme emerged among protesters. “What did I spend the last four years doing?” asked Becky De Freitas, a recent graduate of Gordon College in Wenham, Mass. “Fluent in Mandarin and French and no one wants to go for that? And it’s like, now what?”

Honey? Two words: Goldman Sachs. Hell, any international bank or multi-national corporation would dive on those language skills… unless that’s all you brung to the dance, Tootsie. If you didn’t take any, say, “critical thinking” courses; you know: business, math, hell, even economics, then all you know–according to your résumé–is how to read snot-nosed menus.

PS: You should read you some Smitty, you ignorant git.

 

 

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