Osama Bin Laden is dead.  Yes he deserved to die.  I hope he burns in hell.  I was elated when I heard the news.  However, when I logged onto facebook most of my ultra-liberal brethren were posting shit quoting Dr. King talking about how they personally took no joy in his death and how it was wrong to do so. I, for once, was outside the ultra-liberal mainstream.  SO three questions come to mind.  First, why do I and my liberal friends disagree? Second, who is right? Third, is this even tangentially related to anything having to do with being in debt?

The first thing that struck me about the Dr. King quote was that he was talking about enemies who directly and repeatedly wronged him and his family.  Most of my liberal friends do not have that relationship with Bin Laden.  They hadn’t lost anyone in the attacks and the ten-year war that followed did not affect their lives in any material way.  They’re liberal, but they’re not self-immolating to bring the troops home from Afghanistan.

Second, are they right?  Probably.  I am sure I should not be fantasizing about the first lonesome, hideous bottom-feeding sea creature that might stumble upon a delicious, stinking bag of white-wrapped flesh and manage to use some gruesome appendange to wrest it open.  I know that’s not right.  But I know something about having enemies, about waking up everyday knowing the person (people) responsible for your situation are waking up in relative comfort everyday snickering about what they did to you and hoping they can do it to others like you.

Now I am not saying they are DEFINITELY right.  I believe that killing him and recovering his body was the right (and only right) thing to do.  I also believe that the visceral reaction to the death of a monster is inextricably linked to the burning desire to sacrifice everything for one thing that is sacred.  That is why we risk sacrificing many lives to save one life.  Because a life is sacred.  We do not do this for vengeance, justice or to honor the dead.  We do this because it is who we are.

Hello, my name is Benito Mario.  I am a 31 year-old balding two-time graduate level ivy-league grad who is unemployed, living with his mother and has never held a full-time job for more than 18 months.  My two older brothers each earned their GEDs after age 35 and are millionaires.  They refuse to employ or speak to me because they feel our parents favored me due to my academic success.  They won’t come by the house if I’m there unless it’s Thanksgiving or Christmas.  My mother tolerates my presence in part out of stubborness towards them.  That’s my reality everyday when I wake up in the morning. Oh, and I have $200k in debt that I have no way of ever paying.

Now, here’s what I could have said

Hello my name is Benito Mario.  I’m a doctor (of the arts).  I stay on campus, I try to give something back to the kids you know? Do you like my hat? I’m a free spirit, I could NEVER do the 9-5 thing.  I mean, corporate America? Hello?? I’m the first in my family to go on to do post-graduate work, and if you’re going to do something you might as well do it all the way right?  I mean you can’t go ivy-league for undergrad and then settle for less afterwards right? My older brothers give me a lot of shit about the debt but come on, they are plumbers who never even graduated from high school.  They resent me because I was the favorite. In fact, I’m the only one who ever checks in on mom.

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Clarence Thomas is only the second African-American ever to sit on the Supreme Court.  He was nominated by the first President Bush when Thurgood Marshall, the first African-American ever to sit on the Supreme Court, retired.  I do not care for Clarence Thomas.  Neither do 98% of African-Americans – ever since he first caught Reagan’s eye for being willing to perpetuate lies about African-Americans and his systematic destruction of the EEOC.  Twenty years later, he sits alienated and alone on the court, under a self-imposed vow of silence.  After his wife accepted over $700,000 to lobby against President Obama’s groundbreaking Healthcare reform, Thomas stands poised to cast the deciding vote rendering a law unconstitutional, purely on political grounds, that will directly cause the death of hundreds of thousands of the poorest Americans.  Ladies and gentleman I give you Clarence Thomas, the first Student Debtor.

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So I was letting a buddy crash on the couch while interviewing in Philly for a job.  He’s been out of work for about two years now, about nine months of which he’s been looking for work outside of the legal field.  His interview didn’t go well, as I knew it wouldn’t.  Even after two years of living on couches and eating Chef Boyardee, the kid is not quite over himself.  Anyway, he spent more time getting to the within-walking distance interview than he spent in it, and of course he comes back to the Princess and I going at it and I don’t always close the bedroom door in my own place when nobody else is around.

So he bangs on the door and get this says “show a little respect.”  I come out still at attention and ask if he has some sort of problem.  He then goes on to list several problems he has with me and when I tell him to get the hell out he laughs.  You know what he says? He says “you owe me.” Well, the police begged to differ.  But let’s examine what he meant by that.

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I’ve always wanted to die during the holiday season.  A few days after Christmas, but definitely before the new year.  I suppose I’d feel sorry for those survived by me, but like most in debtor’s prison I am on the fast track to dying alone. For those of us who actually ask ourselves what we should believe versus what we do believe the mostly secular celebration that is connotes Christmas (not to be confused with the welcoming of the Christ child during the season of Advent that marks the beginning of the Christian liturgical year) merely provides a backdrop for life’s harder questions.  Regardless of where one falls on the spectrum of faith most would agree that things that are bad are worse during the holidays, and things that are good are better during the holidays.

I think this is the reason for the heightened suicides, drinking and…did I mention suicides? Seriously, imagine for a moment downing a bottle of pills with a nice glass of wine and looking at a beautiful Christmas tree, comfortable on the couch with a roaring fire, and watching that tree’s splendor increase expponentially until suddenly and before you even know it you are in the very glory of…sorry, I get carried away.  Particularly when I don’t have to be bothered making every little thing rhyme. 

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When you’ve been out of work a long time you can’t help but count the number of holiday seasons since you’ve been unemployed.  This will be my third. My first Thanksgiving of unemployment I was thankful for my family and the meeting of my basic needs but frustrated at what would essentially be a six week delay in job search progress. The second Thanksgiving of unemployment I was mostly distressed by my loans. By this point it was clear that whenever I got a job I wouldn’t be making what I made before and therefore my loans would consume all of my after tax income and possibly still fall short of the minimum monthly payment. That’s when I began to form the idea for this blog.

Now I am on my third unemployed debt-laden Thanksgiving. I have to tell you this unemployment/debt thing has gotten old. Everything I am thinking and feeling can basically be boiled down into one of the first two categories: angry at the time of year when my almost zero chance of landing a job actually becomes zero and resentment that my best case scenario of being offered a great job January 2 and starting January 15 would simply constitute a breath of fresh air after I’ve already drowned but my brain hasn’t shut off. Except, of course, it’s worse. Not new just worse.

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One of the worst sensations associated with being in Debtor’s Prison is the sensation of having been lied to. You relied on an implied social contract and gave up not just money and time, but countless experiences (concerts, sporting events, family functions, even and probably most foolishly opportunities for romance). Now our best case scenario is to work for people who made none of those sacrifices, living proof that many of us do get to have our cake and eat it too. You were lied to and everyone thinks you a fool because of it.

Speaking of lies, while it is not in me to talk about a public figure directly but the random influx of Sarah Palin themed quotes caused me to remember the whole “death panel” debate, I can’t help but sort of go there.  This debate was raging about the time I realized that the economy passed me by and my degrees were useless.

What happened to me, to us, is pretty horrible but I gained a valuable perspective today when I learned about a patient in Arizona who was denied a liver after being promised one. He’d already been prepped for surgery when Arizona state budget cuts caused the state to no longer cover such procedures. Because he didn’t have 200,000 the liver went to another patient. Heh, if only they’d given my degree to someone else instead of saddling me with these loans.  The story gets worse however.

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I’m not doing well folks. I’ve had a series of financial and career (or lack thereof) humiliations that are still so traumatically fresh I can’t even blog about them. They are also so outlandish that to describe them would likely lead to other specifics being known about my life that I want to keep private. So I turn to my shame diary. I won’t tell you what’s in it but I will tell you what it is, how to use it and how to tell if you need it.

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Roy Jones Jr. is a 16 year-old engineering protege who decided to attend The Florida Agricultural and Mechanical University, an HBCU, over ivy-league institutions and since has suffered ridicule for his courageous, brilliant and right decision. He exemplified honor, discipline and pride throughout the ordeal and has responded admirably to his critics. It is high time someone commended this young man and help him up as an example of someone who has acted with audacity, pride and power.

The implication for this blog is obvious. Mr. Jones chose the school that offered him the best scholarship, education and experience. He demonstrated wisdom beyond the grasp of 18 and 19 year-oldsters, citing the quality of his specific program and his recognition that many of the schools that accepted him are prestigious in name only. Mr. Jones is not a clown or a performer. He is not here to amuse or impress you because you don’t have a job for him. You can’t afford his services. Mr. Jones has impressed Lockeed Martin. Perhaps you’ve heard of them – they are one of the many employers unimpressed with your over-academic pedigree and has yet to respond to your unsolicited job application.

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When I was just a kid with a newly minted driver’s license I was dropping off my first girlfriend who happened to be of the Caucasian persuasion when I was spotted by a cop. He tailed me from a distance and pulled me over after I dropped her off. Now I was just a kid and I didn’t believe pigs, er cops were really as bad as the rappers and every single black male in my family made them out to be. I sputtered and stuttered said I’d never been in trouble, stated my gpa, church and showed him my honor society membership. He laughed in my face, yanked me out of the car, harassed me and in the end wrote me up for reckless driving and every other moving violation in existence. The point is groveling doesn’t work with cops and it doesn’t work with law school deans, Sallie Mae or anyone else with the power to free you from some crushing debt.

Look, I understand that this idiot was either desperate, giving into a moment of weakness or trying to be funny. Unfortunately it doesn’t matter because either way you gave some asshole dean the personal satisfaction of putting a face and a testimonial to the lives he helps ruin. Think of it. This idiot is tired of the freedoms of academia and now is comparing himself to his friends who are mid-level and senior partners who by now have amassed net worths of $1 million or more. Maybe if he was a federal judge the prestige of poverty would be worth it but not a likely dean. You just made this fool’s day.

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