… Of The People In Your Graduating Class You Were Reasonably Certain Were Not Going To Amount To Much Because Of Our Delusional Beliefs.

‘Puter moseyed on over to the Occupy Wall Street “We Are the 99 Percent” website today, just to gander at the human flotsam and jetsam. A few observations, then on to the hilarity. First, there’s no verification that anything said on this site is in any manner true, no matter how heart-tuggingly sad it may seem. Second, most of these folks seem to not have the first clue what got them in trouble in the first instance, despite it being patently obvious on first glance. Third, what’s the proposed solution to your identified issues? ‘Puter hasn’t seen anything realistic as of yet. That said, let’s jump in.

Here’s what one fine lass wrote:

Today my sociology professor asked a class of 35-40 hard-working students at a respected, if public, university how many of us expected to get a job after graduation… No one raised their hand. Then she asked how many of us had over $10,000 in student loans… Almost every hand in the classroom, including mine, shot up.

Of course every hand went up. You’re sociology students. In ‘Puter’s day, way back in the late 1980s, nearly every single sociology major at his rich kid Catholic college was either (1) a dumb jock or (2) a dumb, yet hot, girl looking to get her Mrs. degree on with a pre-med or economics/accounting major. ‘Puter’s guessing that if you asked a room full of, let’s say, mechanical engineering freshmen at Michigan State the same question, nearly every single hand would stay down. Your poor life choices do not rise to the level of a problem requiring a national solution. Let ‘Puter know when the kids with STEM degrees can’t find jobs. Then ‘Puter’ll start worrying.

‘Puter continued reading hard-luck story after hard luck story. ‘Puter finally decided to give “The 99 Percent” the following Steve-Jobs-Style-Commencement speech.

You say you are The 99 Percent. You are not. Ninety-nine percent of Americans don’t sit around whining about how miserable their lives are to complete strangers. Most Americans slog through the daily shit storm that makes up life in this recession without whining to anyone except their families.

And guess what? It’s scary all around. ‘Puter’s an attorney licensed in three jurisdictions, graduate of a Top 20 Law School, with 15 years’ experience in commercial, corporate, bankruptcy, creditors’ rights, transactional and real estate law. ‘Puter’s company had significant issues back in 2008 as a result of the economic collapse, coupled with the regulatory uncertainty ushered in by the Obama Administration’s vendetta against the financial industry. It was a near thing for his company. You didn’t catch ‘Puter whining about it, not even on his blog, and he whines about everything.

Complaining about corporations and conspiracies and foreigners and rules and The Man isn’t going to make it any better. Nor is sitting there waiting for the government to come give you a handout. “But ‘Puter, I can’t even qualify for benefits!” Well, good. That means you’re better off than many others in this country, so figure it out. Find a gosh-darned plumber, or electrician and follow them around. Learn a real skill that no one can take away from you.

Hopelessness and anger is a choice. If you’re a single hippie barista living in a roach infested tenement and you’re scared, move. You’ve got nothing to lose, and everything to gain.

Look. Everyone is scared right about now. Take a lesson from the British attitude during the Blitz. Those folks were in danger from falling bombs every night for months on end. They slept in subways like rats. Yet they got up and got about it without whining because it sucked for everyone.

And as to your claims that “it’s not fair!1!!1one!!” that the evil corporations got bailed out, look at it this way. If the government had stood idly by and let the banks and large corporations go tits up at the 2008 tipping point, no one would have a job. Would it make you feel better to know that everyone’s life sucked equally as bad as yours? Because if it does, you’re a demonstrably bad person. And, to be clear (stealing a phrase from The One), if the banks and EVUL CORPORASHUNS!11!!!eLeVENty!! had gone tits up, the people laid off would be where you are now, and you’d be living in the streets fighting with feral hamsters over scraps of year-old Slim Jims behind the 7-11. So stop crying.

You know what grown ups do? Grown ups assess the situation and figure out how to proceed. Sometimes, the answer is that there’s nothing to be done. And that sucks ass. But the way to deal with it is to do your best, rather than sitting around in a drum circle and navel gazing with your comrades in arms who seem to have plenty of money for weed and tattoos, not to mention cell phones and sleeping bags.

Whoever told you life was going to be fair did you a grave disservice. And you know what, ingrates? Your life, no matter how bad it may seem now, is better than 100% of those on the other side of the dirt. Including those men and women who have died protecting your right to protest moronically. You know what else? How many Bangladeshis do you think would trade places with you, right now, no questions asked? You’d better hope that’s never put to a vote, because although the Bangladeshis would likely have a tough time with the language, at least they wouldn’t be whiny little bitches. So look on the bright side. You’re not dead, and you’re not living in Bangladesh. Things could be far, far worse.

Here’s how people like ‘Puter see these protests. The participants are either burned-out hippie retreads looking for a new Ken Kesey to follow, or they’re college kids who know exactly shit about the real world. The former group abdicated their claim to sanity and sympathy simply by virtue of being hippies. The latter group, for whatever reason, is taken seriously by society despite their absolute lack of knowledge and wisdom. Why do we listen to the political wisdom of a group that’s never had a big boy job? What are they going to add to the conversation, aside from their economic horseshit about redistributing the corporate malefactors’ (‘Puter’s looking at you, Krugman) pelf and thereby cratering the economy into a European socialist malaise from which it will never recover.

Go home. Figure it out. Try something new. This will pass. But if you keep up this self-indulgent crap, then by God, ‘Puter and his cohort are going to beat you so badly you’ll think the Pinkertons had climbed out of history’s dustbin and gone all Khmer Rouge on your pampered asses.

So that’s ‘Puter’s hasty, ill-considered, foul-mouthed, ADHD-riddled rant of the day. And ‘Puter didn’t waste his time rewriting and editing, as he’s busy trying to get the economy moving again, rather than sitting in a park in his own filth, stinking of reefer and eating vegan bean pies. If you don’t like it, too bad. Get your own damned blog.

'Puter

Always right, unless he isn’t, the infallible Ghettoputer F. X. Gormogons claims to be an in-law of the Volgi, although no one really believes this.

’Puter carefully follows economic and financial trends, legal affairs, and serves as the Gormogons’ financial and legal advisor. He successfully defended us against a lawsuit from a liquor distributor worth hundreds of thousands of dollars in unpaid deliveries of bootleg shandies.

The Geep has an IQ so high it is untestable and attempts to measure it have resulted in dangerously unstable results as well as injuries to researchers. Coincidentally, he publishes intelligence tests as a side gig.

His sarcasm is so highly developed it borders on the psychic, and he is often able to insult a person even before meeting them. ’Puter enjoys hunting small game with 000 slugs and punt guns, correcting homilies in real time at Mass, and undermining unions. ’Puter likes to wear a hockey mask and carry an axe into public campgrounds, where he bursts into people’s tents and screams. As you might expect, he has been shot several times but remains completely undeterred.

He assures us that his obsessive fawning over news stories involving women teachers sleeping with young students is not Freudian in any way, although he admits something similar once happened to him. Uniquely, ’Puter is unable to speak, read, or write Russian, but he is able to sing it fluently.

Geep joined the order in the mid-1980s. He arrived at the Castle door with dozens of steamer trunks and an inarticulate hissing creature of astonishingly low intelligence he calls “Sleestak.” Ghettoputer appears to make his wishes known to Sleestak, although no one is sure whether this is the result of complex sign language, expert body posture reading, or simply beating Sleestak with a rubber mallet.

‘Puter suggests the Czar suck it.