(click cartoon to enlarge)By Andrew Birnbaum
I was surprised by the poor response to my internet ad. I had offered to do pretty much anything for money, provided there was minimal risk of prison or chafing. Only one of the responses sounded legitimate, and it was from a male model who needed help running errands. We communicated by e-mail, and I agreed to go to his house first thing Monday morning.
When I got to the house, I learned the male model was actually a sixty year old man. He was morbidly obese and bloated, his complexion a sad combination of pallor and artificial bronzer.
He introduced himself as "Bob." He looked vaguely familiar.
Bob invited me into the den, where he served iced tea. The task he required of me was straightforward. I was to go to his pharmacist and pick up prescriptions. He handed me the first prescription slip. I immediately knew something was amiss. It was for Oxycontin, and I was listed as the patient. Why was Bob laundering prescriptions?
And then it hit me.
I knew who "Bob" was.
I don't feel comfortable giving his exact legal name, but let's just say Bob is a multinational corporation with an enormous market capitalization, and several multi-billion dollar defense contracts to supply weaponry and mercenary personnel to warring nations across the globe. And his last name is "Inc." That's all you're getting. I've said too much already.
I told Bob I recognized him. He explained the reason for his various deceptions-he could not risk the scandal which would result if the world learned one of its largest weapons suppliers is an addict.
I was shocked. How could Bob function if he was perpetually stoned?
Bob downed a whiskey shot and the floodgates opened. The poor childhood in the South, raised by strict evangelical LLPs who taught him that real men beat each other senseless. Bob perked up briefly as he recounted his favorite religious story, the one where Abraham's father doubts one idol can destroy another. But Bob grew somber as he admitted the pictures of children maimed by his bombs were affecting him. Overwhelmed by guilt, he finally turned to Oxycontin.
I asked the obvious questions: Why doesn't he stop selling weapons? Couldn't he transition to a different industry?
Bob denied he could change. He insisted I not judge him, even though he continues to profit from the murder and maiming of innocent civilians. He claimed I could not possibly understand the pressures he is under. Sure, I have family and friends to worry about, but he has shareholders watching his every move! Bob showed me pictures of low-income elderly shareholders dependent on him for their retirement, only they were sipping champagne and playing golf. Bob later admitted the people in the pictures were not shareholders, but board members.
Bob said only one thing gives him comfort: the military's Don't Ask, Don't Tell policy. If a war profiteer like himself can stay in the military's good graces while gay Arabic linguists are discharged, Bob knows he is not so bad. Bob claimed there is no place for gays in the defense industry.
I told Bob I am a gay man and find Don't Ask, Don't Tell offensive. Bob requested I have sex with him. Haunted by past efforts to remove artificial bronzer from natural fabrics, I fled.
But I do not regret the encounter.
Meeting Bob changed how I feel about the business community's efforts, increasingly sanctioned by the Courts, to allow corporations the same rights as people, including free speech rights. I now know that corporations are not inanimate legal fictions. They are living breathing human beings, with faces and bodies. A prospective Supreme Court Justice may or may not have empathy for poor people. The more significant question is whether she has empathy for corporations struggling with overwhelming addictions and sexual desires. If you prick a corporation, does it not bleed? And if a corporation sees tax money being used to help the needy, does it not run to a tea party rally? I realize now that it was my own bigotry that blinded me to the fact corporations are exactly the same as people. Shame on me for ever doubting this.
Andrew Birnbaum @ shenluk.blogspot.com
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