I already lost this entry once, so you might notice that it sucks in that recycled-work sort of way. sorry. it ended up being the longest entry yet, so yeah.
Employment.
I've been trying to think of a good scapegoat on which to blame my lack of employment. Perhaps I could pin it on my high school teachers, who praised me for turning in work that I barely put any thought into. I could blame my church leaders who failed to reach me enough to instill the virtues of doing the Lord's work (that's one of my favorites.) Then of course there's the rock and roll music and experimentation with marijuana which seem to have polluted my mind and landed me on the wrong side of the tracks. These ideas sometimes help me sleep at night, and the more I think about it, the more I feel I should support myself this summer on court winnings from suing those who influenced me during my childhood.
Fuck you all, I know it's my fault.
But the last failure in seeking employment seemed to be a blatant effort by a force larger than you or I, to prove to me beyond any doubt that I am a penniless piece of unhirable human refuse. First, some backstory: A friend of mine works at MetLife third-shift and has been for some time. I asked him recently if he would be able to find me a job there and he said he would talk to his boss. I thought this was awesome because since the beginning of summer he and I have progressed from mere aquaintences to what might be called 'new friends,' whatever that means. It meant a lot to me for him to do this, and it was especially wonderful when he told me that someone had just left and that there was in fact an openining. He suggested I go to this temp agency in Dunmore and register with them, since Met gets a lot of their employees from this agency. The very next business day, I was up at 9am to drive my mom to work so I could go to this temp place.
Things seemed to be supernaturally in my favor. The place only accepts registrations from 8:30am until 11am, and the trip from my mom's lab to the place ended at almost exactly 11. I was able to register, also thanks to the cool guy who worked there who accomidated my slight lateness. We talked passingly about our schools and jobs and how trying to get employed tends to suck, but at that point I was pretty far from feeling down about it. Sure enough a position was available at MetLife, third shift, which happened to be the highest paying job in their database at the time. He really seemed as though he was pulling for me too. He indicated that there was another person interested in the job, but he would do what he could to put me in front. A college student himself, he was admittedly biased. Filling out paperwork never seemed so rewarding. Gleefully, I filled out even a W2, thrilled at the prospect of having MY hard-earned wages taxed. Hell, I was going to finish summer 4 figures richer! I felt beside myself. He contacted his superior to organize a tour of Met's premises, a precurser to employment, and he called later that day to say it was to take place the next morning at 11am.
Again, perfect timing. Once more, I drove my mom to work and, in spite of being lead astray a few times by a security guard who had his own definition of the "back" of the building, I was at Met to meet this woman right on time. Accompanying her was this slouchy, dopey looking man who was also interested in the position. To the boon of my confidence, he was not dressed to impress. Beneath his worn Yankees hat, his large glasses, his blue t-shirt and tattered pants, he looked like your most sketchy distant uncle. I tasted on the back of my tongue the bitter flavor of workplace competition, knowing that through my gestures, poise, and articulation, I would crush this man like the unqualified doofus he was. The final nail in his coffin would be the fact that he had the most severe stutter I had ever heard. The stars finally seemed aligned in my favor.
The tour concluded with both of us still interested in the job. I had cracked a few good jokes, exuded politeness, friendliness, and generally came across as a down-to-earth guy who seemed like he would have no problem getting the job done. Meanwhile, my competition had succeeded in looking dumb, and at one point taking no less than five seconds to say "if" before a sentence could finally collect at the back of his teeth and spill out onto our shoes.
Then, this force--larger than us all--found the perfect time to remind me of the decree that I am, under no circumstance, allowed to have a well paying job. The woman asked the question that has haunted me for as long a summer job was necessary: "So are you both looking for a fulltime position?" The back of my neck grew cold with nausia. "Y-y-y-yeees, fuufuuffufuuffuuull ti---," stammered my opponent. "To the end of summer, but also on my major school breaks," I then said. She explained that she would consult with HR at MetLife to see if they were looking for a summer position or something more permanent, and that she would hire whomever fit the bill later that day.
As could be predicted, no phone call came. I'm back at square one, skunked again in spite of seemingly bulletproof leads. I'm also 20 bucks poorer because I bought myself 2 reward lunches in expectation of having an income.
Terrorism.
So I guess Al-Qaeda has our country on its toes again after a London "think-tank" asserted the obvious: that AQ's operatives are growing in numbers and organizing, in spite of their leaders being killed and captured, and the States reducing Afghanistan and Iraq to pads of land that resemble discarded scabs. Who would've guessed? Sarcasm aside, I question the sanity of our rulers who honestly felt that pressing the reset button on two countries would have a positive effect on terrorists. If you think of terrorists as bacteria, they thrive and multiply in war-torn states. Disgrunted youths whose parents are killed by errant missles, who see their land over-taken by foreigners, who see one oppressive, interest-driven regime replaced by another in the name of capitalism and a religion they don't believe in...can one really blame them for fighting back? Although it leads directly to frightening conclusions, one must keep perspective here. They are idealistic fighters striving for something in which they believe. Haven't American soldiers been doing that since there has been such a thing as American soldiers? What makes us so much more impregnable and protected then the "rest" of the world? It's surely not God's favor, if a reasonable person could even take solace in that.
I felt this way once before, on the afternoon of September 11th when I had no idea what could happen next. That was fear, being confronted with the possibility of having countable breaths. But by the next day, I saw through the panic and the thick rhetoric and generally distanced myself from the fear of another attack. Since then, I've boarded planes without reservation; I roll my eyes at the trepid countenence Tom Ridge when he goes on TV to talk about his little color system; I take no heed of Bush's efforts to ingrain concepts like "terrorist," "evil," and "cowardly enemy" into my mind to capture my vote. However, with this latest swelling of fear in America, I find myself again compelled by what's going on.
There is nothing we can do to prevent another attack. There is no lack of animosity to the policies of our country, and in no way could I imagine a decline in the number of people who would die to see America's empire fall. Something will happen again, and I am distinctly aware that someone I love may be killed. It's not so much the attack that I fear, but the aftermath.
The United States sits upon a table, and the way I see it, one leg has already been knocked out from under it. With 9/11 came the Patriot Act, the destruction of Afghanistan, and the war in Iraq. Things are deteriorating rapidly if you examine a couple things:
1) Our government is pouring a mind-boggling amount of resources into Iraq. Billions upon billions of dollars are needed to support troops, maintain and build equipment and armament, strengthen the army, keep up morale, sell the war to the public, and so on. Money, and it's lack, is not necessarily the end of America, but it will have to be accounted for at some point.
2) Legislation is being continuously passed that hopes to strengthen our defenses against terrorism. This includes surveilance technology, databases, and whatever else the higher-ups deem necessary to feret out terrorists and potentials. Civil liberties and freedoms are the casualties of this.
Things are not so bad right now. There are still strong skeptics doing their best to keep things in check. But consider how things will be if there is another massive attack on US soil. All efforts up to now will be exposed as completely fruitless endeavours. Skepticism of a law that allows unbridaled raping of liberties will be unwelcome and disregarded, just as diplomacy seemed completely out of the question on September 12th. Another large scale attack, therefore, would knock out another leg of the table that holds us up, and no table I've ever seen stands on two legs. With proof that weak legislation could not prevent another large-scale attack, I imagine the US would become nothing less than a police state complete with neighborly informants and Stasi files.
In my eyes, that would be the point of no return for the United States. With our most basic principles compromised, we would no longer be a nation.
So even beyond the risk of death, I fear the next large scale attack because of the impending fallout that would reorganize American life to the very last detail, in so doing, dethroning this country as the superpower.
I guess one upside--that is if I happen to survive the next attack--is that I would live an exciting life, trying to find my way out of this country and surviving somewhere else.
Posted by Alchemae at May 27, 2004 01:04 AM