Dickinson College cashing out its troublesome lesbians while its alumnus sleeps in his car a dozen-odd nights a month

Credible gossip has come my way that the Dickinson College Board of Trustees is preparing to fire Nancy Roseman imminently. The decision hasn’t been made public yet, but I trust my source on matters of Alma Mater, Tried and True. My source told me that 84 faculty voted in favor of a resolution of no confidence in Roseman and that facilities workers filed an HR complaint against Roseman’s wife for verbally abusing them. Roseman has alienated many alumni of the sort who give a shit about college finances (I may be in their world, but I sure ain’t of it) by presiding over a precipitous drop in charitable (sic) giving. By objective measures, Dickinson has too much money, not too little, but the alumni council types live in a world catering to institutional feels, not equity. Many of them probably could not accurately explain equity as a legal or moral concept if asked. Their objection is muh moneys, and there’s less of them in the coffers of late.

One of the really pathological things about this donnybrook is that it’s bound up in political considerations having to do with Roseman’s womanhood and lesbianism. By the accounts I’ve heard, she cannot straightforwardly be fired for incompetence and bringing onto campus a spouse who harasses college staff. The trustees are forced to consider the diversity implications, not the content of their character, so to speak. The tangential comments that I’ve heard about these considerations are seriously fucked up, such that if I were a downmarket lesbian, I’d probably be of a mind to choke some bitches of various genders and sexualities. In the tradition of insubordinate open letters by Millennials to their betters, then, I present this to the Dickinson College Alumni Council and Board of Trustees: Yinz are supposed to be running a college over there, and instead you’re running a goddamned disgrace.

The backstory, though, is probably even worse. Roseman and her queen consort or whatever-the-fuck are actually being held accountable by their overseers, if belatedly so. Bill Durden never was. Durden’s lesser disgrace was his absurd running hagiography of Benjamin Rush, a somewhat embarrassing character widely known to the American history-reading public at large as a mercury laxative enthusiast. Making Rush out to be a near-peerless visionary was a disgrace to scholarship, and the hordes of students, alumni, parents, and so forth who ate that shit up and begged for seconds were second-order disgraces to scholarship. Why the fuck did I pursue a bachelor’s degree in history? It’s futile. The entire history department was futile against Durden’s Rush-worship fog machine.

Durden’s greatest disgrace, however, should have been a summary firing offense. I was very credibly told that he fired and smeared Public Safety Lieutenant Joe Fazio for whistleblowing, then rehired him days into the dead of summer as interim director after quietly firing Richard Sexton, the creepy bastard he had put in charge of public safety after firing Paul Darlington for crimes under color of authority including false arrest, the temporary disappearance of detainees into irregular facilities for interrogation (in a sort of Homan Square light), and violations of the Fourth and Fifth Amendments. I was credibly told that Sexton was at least as involved in the illegal detentions and interrogations as Darlington. I damn well did not submit to any portion of the San Diego Police Department’s background investigation process so that a Mr. Chips shitbird might knowingly harbor a bad cop and knowingly libel a good cop for a semester and a half for purposes of political expediency. Police recruitment and command procedures have to be executed properly and made to work, full stop. It is immoral and frankly illegal to give the likes of Bill Durden any quarter to fuck around with police forces. My own moral failure at the time was in not petitioning for the reassignment of primary jurisdiction over the Dickinson campus to the Pennsylvania State Police until DPS could be thoroughly cleaned out by court receivers. (Carlisle PD is chronically a garbage agency with recurrent serious breaches of command duty. Probably a third of its officers are psychologically or ethically unfit for duty. It’s a fish rotting from the tail, and has been for decades.) As a student, I had a vague moral responsibility to Dickinson and to Carlisle to blow the whistle on Durden’s criminal mismanagement of DPS. Durden had an explicit legal duty under Title IX to disclose DPS’s relationship with other police agencies and a clear fiduciary responsibility to bring DPS to heel and fire bad cops as he became aware of them. He willfully failed on all counts.

Honestly, Bill Durden is a fucking piece of shit. Worse, he’s a dangerous piece of shit because he bamboozles so many people who ought to show some modicum of critical thinking because they have a fucking liberal arts education. No one takes Johannes Mehserle or Kwesi Millington seriously as leaders. For that matter, Nancy Roseman is being called out as a bad leader and held to account. She must not have been slick enough to entrench herself. Of course the college’s financial decline, although by no means catastrophic, hurt her case, but much of Durden’s good financial stewardship was really a function of his slickness. He’s a greasy pitchman. No competent self-governing citizenry would put credence in such an oily prick, and no reputable association would celebrate such a man.

Nancy Roseman and her better half must be low-functioning shitbirds. We tried the high-functioning shitbird option under Durden, and it was a moral disaster, per capita and per dollar not all that much less embarrassing than Sandusky, Paterno, and Spanier at Penn State. WE ARE! Now Dickinson College will probably be paying out the balance of Roseman’s contract, in the amount of approximately a million and a half dollars, and then pestering me for money again. Maybe I’ll have a job whose income I’ll refuse to tithe to these crooks, or maybe I won’t. In any event, they aren’t getting another cent of my money unless they hook me up with the good stuff in the tradition of Tammany Hall, and so far they haven’t been game for that.

Next time I find skanky-looking pondwater and cigarette butts in the bottom of my cart at BottleDrop, I’ll have to remember where I went to school, and take joy and comfort in the cleanliness of my new lifestyle. And I’m never going back, no, I’m never going back–actually, I may go back to my old school for Alumni Weekend or some shit, but my money fucking won’t. Oregon state bottle deposit gibs aren’t enough to cover that, cracka.


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