[JUST] BEFORE and…

Standing in the lecture hall, awaiting the next student question, I’m still tasting the bitter adrenaline of yesterday’s late-afternoon meeting…

<<>> 

That spring Michigan sun had just set beyond the window of Dr. Broadman’s office, casting an odd, golden… unusual… glow about everything. The light was so… entrancing. Colourful. Almost animated.

Maybe it’s my hyper-heightened senses from catecholamines. There sat the Dean, Dr. Broadman, my boss. He was droning on, trying to be cordial to a non-tenured Professor as he made overtures that he was going to promptly boot my sorry ass out of the University.

I can smell it. I’m about to get fired.

“Dr Thomas, your, um, recently published works caught all of us by surprise…” guess you don’t know what’s going on with your professors? “… and the subsequent interviews on local TV… and causes this University a great number of… difficulties… and scandels.” He was looking straight at his large aquarium, three feet away from any direct eye contact with me, a tank filled with three bolbous puffer-fish, comical look-alikes to their keeper sitting before me.

“We finally get back on our feet post-pandemic, and …our science and technology departments receive such generous amounts of funding from the major companies you implicated in your article… and called out on TV. They built our new lab complex, for example.”

He tensed up, “Our research arm does good work, and graduate some of the best scientists in the industry. All you’ve done is bite the hand that feeds!” Unexpectedly, his hands clumped on the desk as he finished the sentence… Thump!

I jumped a bit. Unexpected. “Hell, CNN showed up this morning, poking around, investigative reporter from the Detroit Review calling for interviews…” Thump! Again. I was looking intently at his reddened face, his neck veins bulging…

I have to say some-thing… “Dr. Broadman; the article was peer-reviewed… twice! The incidents and companies in question have been subjects of pubic Congressional hearing… public! Three players indicted and in jail, and another six waiting indictment. It’s a sociologic analysis of the for-profit industries harming thousands by gross criminal activity under the guise of regional warfare and conflict.” Broadman was squirming, boiling, waiting to explode… “Besides being the leading social anthropology journal, it’s the hardest one to get in for publication. This University should be proud… “

Thump! Thump! He lost his cool. “Proud? Proud!” He was screaming. “Doc-tor Thomas, the only thing we’re going to be prrrroud about is cancelling your faculty status! The Board meets later, tonight, and after the seering phone call I just received from the president of Blouer Industries, and their plans to can-cel their funding after your so-called scholarly work…”

I was stunned. “Blouer? They’re not listed in in any of our University public disclosure donor database…”

“Of course not, you idiot!” His volume was increasing with every word. “They can’t directly give to us! They fund us through back-channels and a dozen subsidiaries…”

I was starting to make some connections. Of course! The shadow I’d been chasing during the field research. “Blouer. The same Blouer that’s connected with the human experimentation in the Sudan… Blouer, connected to the neuro-control incident in India last year? Innocent populations were attacked! Hundreds died! Children made subjects for experiments! Crimes against humanity? Our University was involved? We participated in mind-control experiments on innocent populations? Possibly the worst human rights violation since Tuskegee? Blouer? They’re criminals! Are you insane?”

Broadman went from anger to center-of-hell frozen. “You just don’t get it, do you? Every fracking University on the planet is in the pay of the White Witch, you fool. Not only did you publish an article that gives every academic peace-nick a reason to demonstrate here, BUT you called out our major donor as a player of your so-called ‘investigational research’. CNN, you bastard! What you called experimentation was a small mis-calculation. Now, questions are being asked, and they’ll follow the money trail. This is a disaster! Disaster! Many…” He was being careful, “…many in this University could be implicated, life-long careers destroyed. The University could be… permanently impacted!”

Well, call your lawyer, you morally heartless idiot. Mis-calculation, my ass…

It all suddenly became very, very comical to me. I chuckled, muttered. “Who thought you’d even notice my work?”

“Notice? Oh yes, we noticed, Dr. Thomas. Once the Board kicks your polly-annish ass out of this University, good luck getting ‘noticed’ for another faculty position… on this planet. You’re now an official pariah! You won’t be able to get an hourly job serving iced chai within a hundred miles of any University… anywhere!”

Broadman stood, his towering frame darkening the entire room. “I am late for dinner with the Provost. I’m sure your name will come up.” He grabbed his briefcase and made for the huge oak door. He stopped, turned, and finally looked at me. “I am informing you that tomorrow is going to be the last lecture of your mercurial and short-lived career in academia. Tonight, the Board meets to move that you be officially terminated from Southern Michigan University, effective noon tomorrow. Academic maleficence. Don’t appeal, or we’ll find some cutzy freshman who’ll claim you groped her in your office… ” He smiled a twisted smile. “Enjoy your swan song tomorrow, doc-tor!”

Thump! Went the door, and so did two decades of hard work and sacrifice and trying to do the right thing.

Does the dragon always win like this?

crisbaj

<<<>>> 

‘The Last Last Lecture’ is copyright ©2018-2021 by crisbaj. All rights reserved. No reproductions, reprinting or reposting without express permission of the author.

Contact:  http://www.crisbaj.com

<<>>