This was originally posted on July 11, 2017.
How stupid are we?
Talking about America, there seems to be no limit to the depth of our stupidity, the depth of the pit of stupidity we have fallen into. It’s rather amazing actually. Think about it. When the Soviet Union collapsed and the Berlin wall came down, the United States was the only world power. In the thirty years since then we have allowed Russia to regain its world-power status and we have allowed China to become a world power. China’s economy has overtaken ours and just recently, for the first time ever, the dollar is no longer the world currency.
So how stupid are we? Well, how stupid can you be?
The war on poverty has been going on for fifty-two years, since 1965. We’ve poured twenty-three billion dollars into it. That’s 23,000,000,000. For that money there has been no real noticeable change in the poverty rate and no real change in the demographics of the people in poverty. Yet we continue down the same road. Stupid?
As regards education, we spend more per capita than any other country and yet we rank a whopping twenty-seventh in the world in education. Now that’s a big bang for the buck. Furthermore, segregation was outlawed in 1954 and yet our schools are becoming more and more segregated. The rate at which segregation is occurring continues to increase.
Stupid?
It gets better. There are those who fought against segregation who now insist they have a right to their own spaces, or they insist that whites not be allowed into certain spaces. Well then…
Stupid? You bet
Just as stupid and actually most dangerous to our society is the disregard shown for logic and facts. Replacing logic and facts are feelings and subjectivity. The gender identity laws exemplify this. But that raises a controversial issue and God forbid that should happen. So let’s put it this way. Mr. X doesn’t have any cash and can’t buy that five-dollar super mochaccino he wants because he left his wallet in his Porsche. He feels poor. He identifies with poor people at that moment. In accordance with the gender identity rules, he is poor. He identifies himself as poor, ergo, by the new rules, he is poor. If that happened on April 15th, Mr. X should be eligible for not paying taxes and even getting an earned income credit.
Stupid? Beyond stupid. How stupid can we be?
Let’s see. Remember “you have to sign it to see what’s in it?” Stupid? Well, what’s even more stupid is that she’s still in office and the head of her party. She’s not stupid. She didn’t have to read it because she doesn’t have to deal with it. She and her cronies voted themselves an exception so they could stay on the government congressional plan. That’s the Cadillac of Cadillacs plan.
Stupid? Not them! Us. More than half of them are millionaires And they way their positions work, they don’t really have to pay for anything. Our tax dollars pay for everything. Or, they’re having a great, self-enriching time on our dime. So how stupid can we be?
Russia. Russia’s goal is to create chaos here in America. Well, look at what our media has been pushing for the last eight months or so. Look at what the party of opposition has done. How stupid are we as a people and as a nation? Haven’t we played right into Putin’s hands? Stupid.
Well, aren’t we stupid for allowing all this to go on? Aren’t we more stupid for continuing to fund it?
Finally, as the liberals push left toward the welfare state and socialism, history tells us that capitalism and the free market pay for the bulk of all charity work done throughout the world. It also tells us that no socialist government thus far has ever managed to succeed. Why would we push toward that which we know will fail?
Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. Really, how stupid are we? Pretty damn stupid.
Pick up a copy of my published works here: Books by Peter Weiss.
Coming Soon
Bill Wynn: The First Hundred
We were the only remaining super power in the world in the late 1980s. Ronald Reagan did that, a Republican. Of course it wasn’t just him. It was economics as much as politics. The Soviet Union was going broke, yet another sign, even back then, that socialism didn’t work.
It’s thirty years later. We have let ourselves be surpassed economically by China and we have let Russia return to world power status. Really, how stupid are we? Like him or not, President Trump is right. The world is laughing at us. It should be. As a country, the United States is acting like an idiot. Our leaders say and do the stupidest stuff and then tell us how great they are. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.
So let’s get a couple of things straight. The news and news media are no longer unbiased. A simple look at who owns what there and what their political leanings are demonstrates this. Any paper who hires twenty reporters to get dirt on President Trump clearly has an agenda.
Next, to listen to the Hollywood elite and believe those elites are looking out for anyone other than themselves is at best naive and more likely simply misguided. That’s putting it nicely. Those who know anything about socialism know it really sounds great on paper. But in reality there are only two classes: the rich (very few in number) and the poor (the vast majority who pay for everything and do all the work). Which ones are those Hollywood elites and what do they get from their positions? Easy for them to promote strict gun laws. They have armed bodyguards and live in gated communities. Easy for them to promote conservation and green energy since not only can they afford green energy, but they are exempt from their own preachings. It’s like Obamacare. Good for us, but not for Congress who snuck in their exemptions.
So we, the regular American people, are the laughing stock. Look at Al Gore’s carbon footprint. Look at DiCaprio’s. I’m really glad Geraldo’s family in Puerto Rico is okay, truly, but the regular people who don’t have that kind of support got decimated. Same hypocrisy. Did Whoopi leave yet? She’s worth about 80 million. She could afford to go. Why should we believe any of them? If we do, we’re worthy of being laughed at.
Capitalism and the United States pay for almost all the charitable and philanthropic work throughout the world. While we give, give, give, they laugh, laugh, laugh. Excuse me, but I haven’t heard the Clinton foundation doing anything for these latest disasters. You know, Obama and Clinton, those who would move us toward socialist ways: sixty million dollar book deal for Obama and more than 250K per speech to Wall Street, and Hillary’s book deal isn’t being disclosed, but she and Bill have earned 250 million in about ten years. Yeah, they were broke.
Iran deal? They’re laughing at us.
Paris Accord? UN? TPP? Obama’s trade deals? They’re laughing at us.
Our Congress? Schumer, Pelosi, Ryan, and McConnell, they’re all laughing stock. In fact, it would be funny if it weren’t funny. And we’re laughing stock because we keep them in power.
So look at The Hunger Games and Resident Evil. That’s where we’re going unless we take our heads out of the sand. The world is laughing at us, and we keep acting stupid. We let Hitler take all of Europe before acting. Haven’t we learned that appeasement doesn’t work? We let China surpass us and Russia come back. We let North Korea and Iran get nuclear weapons and funded Iran so it could fund Radical Islamic Terrorism. We are the laughing stock of the world and we are truly stupid.
Pick up a copy of my published works here: Books by Peter Weiss.
Coming Soon
Bill Wynn: The First Hundred
Revenge is sweet. That’s what Jenny thought. She was intent upon making Peter pay for coming on to her cousin Pam, who happened to be Bill’s girlfriend. Not only did Peter make a pass at Pam, but he did it on the same night of the day Jenny had a coat-hanger abortion and lay bleeding in Pam’s bed. That was the night Pam and Bill were throwing a party which they didn’t cancel because they didn’t know Jenny was having an abortion.
It’s a dish best served cold, is how the saying goes, and Jenny got it that way using Bill to achieve her end some two months later when she was all healed and Peter was just coasting along thinking he wasn’t getting called out for what he’d done. Jenny was near dying and he was busy feeding his male ego. No, Jenny was not letting that slide by.
In her own way, Marie was doing like Jenny had done, except she was having a full-blown affair-like thing with Henry Lee. It wasn’t exclusively with Henry Lee since she had fooled around with Bill too. That, of course, was not quite what Bill had wanted, but surely what Henry Lee had wanted. Any way you sliced it, it was messed up.
Paybacks. Always paybacks. Bill had thought about finding the undercover cop who was in his Paddy wagon, catching him sometime in a dark alley and doing him in. While the thought in itself was serious, the notion that he could actually do it was laughable. Except for one time, he had never hurt anyone and he wasn’t sure he could hurt anyone now. That one time, so long ago, way back when he was all of sixteen, he had lost his head and nearly killed the boy who had started with him. That incident had scared Bill such that he could never, he thought, hurt anyone again.
So Bill didn’t stay too long inside the party room. He said hello to Robert and all the other cooks and to Mr. Jim and his family. He stopped by Mary and told her he would go upstairs to make sure that whatever needed replenishing was done. He said he was gonna take a minute to wash and tray up the potatoes for baking for the dinner and see whatever else he could do ahead to make sure that she wasn’t stuck there late.
Mary had slipped out of her kitchen uniform and was wearing a dress. She had also slipped out of her work shoes and was wearing heels. She had done her makeup and taken a moment to paint her nails. Bill took a moment to enjoy a long look at her. She was gorgeous, he thought, and he could’ve jumped her bones right there if no one else were around. Jesus Christ, he thought.
Alfreda followed him upstairs. Having checked out the buffet and made a mental note of what was needed, Bill thought he had slipped out quietly. Unfortunately, Alfreda had been watching and took the opportunity to follow behind. She told her husband that she had seen Bill heading up the stairs and that she was going up to see what she could do to help him. Henry Lee, drink in one hand, cigarette in the other, didn’t seem to care. He loved Alfreda. He told Bill this all the time and when Bill asked him why he fooled around he said one simple word: pussy. But then turnaround was fair play and Henry Lee had asked him how he, about to be married, could do the things he was doing. Bill had answered with the same word.
“So,” Alfreda said when they were alone in the kitchen, “really, man, when you gonna give me some?”
“When hell freezes over.” Bill said.
Pick up a copy of my published works here: Books by Peter Weiss.
Coming Soon
Bill Wynn: The First Hundred
At the party, Alfreda was downright brazen. Skinny and trim as she was, she wore a mini-mini that was very low cut on the top. She was mini on the top and mini on the bottom.
She came into the party high. Nevertheless, first thing she did was corner Bill and make him take her into the deep freeze to smoke a joint. Once they’d done that, on her own she went into the bourbon drawer and helped herself to a long pull from Bill’s and Henry Lee’s bottle.
“Damn, Alfreda, can’t you wait till you get next door into the party?”
“Why I gotta wait?” she said. “Give me a little kiss, baby.” She stepped close to Bill.
Bill moved back away from her but she cornered him against the counter and kissed him. It was just by the grace of God that Henry Lee did not walk in at that moment and bust the both of them. Not only did she kiss him, but she reached down to help herself to a long, intimate feel of him. At the same time, she grabbed his hand and pushed it up under her mini. Bill fought her, but even as he did so she still reached up and kissed him again.
“Goddammit,” Bill said.
“Goddamn what?” Alfreda asked.
“What the hell is wrong with you?”
“Ain’t nothing wrong with me,” said Alfreda. “What the hell is wrong with you?”
A long moment they stood with their hands on each other, much to Alfreda’s happiness and Bill’s chagrin. But finally he was able to step away from her.
“I don’t need the trouble with your husband,” Bill said.
“Won’t be no trouble,” Alfreda said. “Don’t you like me?”
“I like you fine. That’s not the point.”
“You only live once,” Alfreda said. “What’s good to you is good for you.”
“Maybe we should get into the party,” Bill said. “Sooner or later they’re going to miss us.”
“Wait,” Alfreda insisted. “I gotta know,” she said. “You and Mary have a good time at The Upper Room?”
“Yeah,” Bill said. “We had a good time. Ain’t the first time, and won’t be the last.”
“When you going to take me?” Alfreda asked.
“Never,” Bill said. “I told you, I don’t want a problem with your husband. We work together every day and I ain’t stepping into that.”
“You’ll change your mind,” Alfreda said. She kissed him again, another long kiss, tongue and all, all the while Bill hoping Henry Lee would not step into the meat room. Again, only by the grace of God, they did not get busted. “He ain’t the only one who could fool around,” Alfreda said. “What’s good for the goose is good for the gander.”
Inside the party room, music was blasting from the stereo, Bebe was behind the bar pouring drinks and people were out on the dance floor having a good time. Mr. Jim seemed kind of awed by the whole thing. He stood with his wife, and while not all his kids could be there, several of them were along with several of his grandchildren. Eddie was there. He was hanging out with Henry Lee. Henry Lee was drinking heavily. Even though they still had to work the night, he didn’t care.
Alfreda stepped up into Henry Lee’s arms as if nothing had transpired in the meat room. Bill walked in a moment after her and the first thing he did was check out the buffet to see what needed replenishing. He was convinced it was better for him to work than to hang out at the party where Alfreda seemed intent upon causing trouble.
Once again, and not for the first time, Bill remembered Pam’s cousin Jenny and what she’d done to get even with her boyfriend Peter. Alfreda was on that same path.
Pick up a copy of my published works here: Books by Peter Weiss.
Coming Soon
Bill Wynn: The First Hundred
Another Spring Snow
We thought belated April Fool
Just New England Weather.
Pick up a copy of my published works here: Books by Peter Weiss.
Coming Soon
Bill Wynn: The First Hundred
Loving and supporting Yulie did not stop him from using drugs.
Yulie was the only man that Mary had been with since her husband had left her, and she was reticent about going with him. But there was something about him she found irresistible. Perhaps it was his vulnerability, or perhaps it was that he was such a beautiful person in spite of his drug use, as beautiful, she thought, or perhaps more so, then was his voice. Maybe, in retrospect, it was that she knew one day he’d check out, that from the start she knew what she was up against. Maybe that’s what she liked about Bill, that he was taken and temporary and just a…
She hadn’t meant to fall in love with Yulie. She certainly hadn’t meant to fall in love with Bill Wynn. Nevertheless, love had struck her both times. She was angry about this, but then despite knowing better, she let it happen anyway. Sometimes she told herself that come the summer Bill would be gone and she’d be free from all the burdens and dangers. The burdens and dangers weren’t from him. They were from her own flesh and blood, from Eddie, her son, who simply did not like her being with a white man.
There were other dangers too. Out in her neighborhood it was dangerous for her to be going with a white boy. Late at night, in his car, if they were stopped, that could be a catastrophe. Not only could Bill be sent back to jail for violating his probation, but she could be who-knew-what? If that occurred, she would be at the police officer’s discretion and that, she knew, was always dangerous. What a screwed up world, she often thought.
The preparations for Mr. Jim’s party were relatively simple. Mr. Bowman had fixed it so that they could buy almost everything in frozen form and all Mary and Alfrieda had to do was heat it up and set it into the serving pans. This way they could attend the party which was important because both of them were favorites of Mr. Jim’s. As well, from church and from outside church, they knew his family.
So the delivery came in, and Mary checked it out, seeing to it that everything was stored away properly. Looking at what came in, she estimated it would take less than an hour’s work to set it all up and have it ready. Every now and then she and Alfrieda might have to leave the party room and head back up to the kitchen for replenishments, but waitresses would be able to carry down the pans and set them into the steam tables. Bill would help out too, as would Robert. Mr. Bowman had promised to open up the bar so that they could all have a good time.
Lunch was very busy. Dinner, like the night before, was gangbusters again. Jimmy had to work late. Bill had to work late and he was late heading out to get Mary. Being late did not deter him. Just about nothing could have deterred him.
When Marie had come in in the afternoon, she’d spent the first half hour with Henry Lee. They messed around in the staff bathroom, which was nothing unusual. Bill stayed in the meat room to cut meat when really he should have been upstairs helping Mary set up for the dinner service. It wasn’t the first time Henry Lee and Marie had caused him to be late going up, and Bill knew it probably wouldn’t be the last. So he drank bourbon and cut meat and worked through until Henry Lee and Marie finished.
“About time you got up here,” said Mary when Bill had appeared in the doorway. “What you been doing down there?” she asked.
“Ain’t me,” Bill had said. “Ask Henry Lee and Marie what they been doing.” He had taken a quick inventory of where Mary was at and jumped in with what he knew had to be done.
Pick up a copy of my published works here: Books by Peter Weiss.
Mr. Jim was a humble man. He was a quiet and soft-spoken man. At sixty-five, he was still trim and fit. He had a full head of woolly-white hair and sported a ragamuffin white goatee. Most often he was smiling and happy and nothing that happened in the kitchen ever perturbed him. He had been married all his adult life. He and his wife had four children, six grandchildren and three great-grandchildren so far. On many levels he was the American success story and he’d lived the American dream.
He’d begun working at the steakhouse almost from its opening because he was a friend of Robert’s. Robert had been a friend of Mr. Bowman’s long before Mr. Bowman owned the steakhouse, and when Mr. Bowman told Robert he was thinking of buying it, Robert told him he could certainly help staff the kitchen. Together with Mr. Jim, Robert had put the whole kitchen staff together. It was a good staff, a loyal one, one that was loyal to Robert, to Mr. Jim, to Mr. Bowman and to the restaurant. Only two cooks had left voluntarily. That was because they had not come in from the beginning and did not share the family values that Robert and Mr. Jim had instilled. Those cooks, when they left, were no great loss.
Then came the second restaurant. Mr. Jim and Robert staffed that one too. Along came Yulie.
Mary had loved Yulie. But Yulie was a drug addict and drugs killed him. Robert knew Yulie and his family from church. Yulie was never married. He had two sisters who went to the church, as did his mother and his nieces. Yulie went because his mother forced him to go, and even though he was old enough to easily say no, he was respectful. Mary, Bea, Henry Lee and his wife Alfrieda, along with all their kids, went to the church too. Robert directed the church choir. Mary, Bea, Alfrieda and Yulie all sang in the choir. As messed up as Yulie was on drugs, that’s how beautiful his voice was.
Mr. Jim and Mary had watched Yulie. They watched him self-destruct, and they watched him work, and they watched him self-destruct as he worked. Oftentimes he would be so messed up that he would fall to his knees. The cooks on either side of him would pick him up by his elbows so that he could keep working. Rarely did he miss a step or a beat. He never fell behind in the rushes.
“The boy gonna die,” Mr. Jim had told Mary frequently. “Ain’t nothing we can do,” he’d said.
Mary would cry. “I know,” she’d respond. “Goddamn world.”
“Ain’t the world,” Mr. Jim would say. “Ain’t his color neither. Can’t say why some people are weak like that, but he’s one of them and he’s gonna die.”
“That why I love him?” Mary would ask.
Mr. Jim would hug her then hold her tight. “I done taught him how to cook and I taught him how to be a man and stand up on his own feet. It’s the goddamn drugs. Maybe Mr. Charlie responsible for that.”
Mr. Charlie. Mary’s boy Eddie, her oldest, referred to Bill as Mr. Charlie. To his face he called him whitey or cracker. Eddie didn’t like Bill, probably more because he went with his mother than because he was white. Eddie’d heard Henry Lee’s story about how he lost his leg, about how he’d gotten charged but the white man hadn’t even though the white man picked the fight and drew a knife first. Being younger and understanding less, Eddie was vicious, more so than Henry Lee or the gainfully employed black men. This was because Eddie had nothing to lose, at least not yet.
“I’m sick of it all,” Mary would tell Mr. Jim sometimes, specifically referring to life in general and to Yulie in particular.
“All you can do is love him and support him,” Mr. Jim would say.
