The Clown Gets a Upgrade
On January 14, I realized that my Associate of Arts was no longer cutting it. I found myself in a verbal wrestling match with a county supervisor, pointing out the blatant biases and cherry-picked data in his latest “damning” report (See 2023 Library Debrief & Research Report). I was running circles around him intellectually (See Protecting Our Libraries Legacy: A Call for Transparent, Data-Driven Decisions), but on paper? I was outranked. It was time for a PhD.
I didn’t head to Harvard; I headed to the internet—specifically to Abide University & Institute.
Inspired by the “Dude” himself from The Big Lebowski, Abide University offers honorary degrees to anyone with an email address and a name, provided you promise not to use the degree for unlawful purposes. It’s unaccredited, unconventional, and perfectly suited for my needs. At Abide, the traditional academic ladder doesn’t exist; you don’t need a Bachelor’s to get a Master’s, and you don’t need a Master’s to become a Doctor.
Given my recent acceptance as a probationary clown, the choice was clear: A PhD in Comedic Science.
From Student to “Dr. Leo”
Without a single class or transcript, I transformed. When it came to becoming a permanent clown, I changed my clown name to Dr. Leo, the Bard of Bizarre.
Abide University justifies this “instant expertise” with a refreshingly honest philosophy. They point out that celebrities are awarded honorary doctorates simply for being famous, and that, in today’s economy, the staggering cost of traditional tuition often outweighs the value of the degree. By making education “easy, fun, and rewarding,” they are playing with the possibilities of what a title actually means. As they put it: “It doesn’t hurt anyone and it’s fun to be able to call yourself a doctor.“
The Battle of the Wits (and Shirts)
Armed with my new title, I decided to test its weight during “Hawaiian Shirt Night” at my Masonic lodge at the stated meeting in July. I wore a t-shirt featuring the letters “HI” and a map of the islands—a clever nod to the theme.
A retired lawyer, armed with a “proper” law degree and a penchant for pedantry, took issue with my attire. He tried to “school” me on the difference between a Hawaiian shirt and an Aloha shirt, claiming mine wasn’t a “proper souvenir” and was missing a few islands.
I didn’t flinch. I countered with my PhD in Comedic Sciences.
He fired back by stacking his actual law degrees like he was filing additional charges in a courtroom. I looked him in the eye and told him the truth: Law and comedy are basically the same thing—timing, technicalities, and a lot of people pretending to understand Latin.
The Aftermath
The remark did not go over well. Tensions rose to a point where a flip-flop was lost in the ensuing debate. Possibly two. To this day, the lodge remains a witness to the fact that while the lawyer had the credentials, I had the punchline.
Justice, it seems, remains barefoot.
I may not be getting a job offer from a “respectable institution” anytime soon. Still, as a member of the honorary elite alongside some of the world’s biggest celebrities, I’m ready for the next battle of wits. After all, if you can’t beat them with data, beat them with a diploma from a fictional university.
