by Peter Boyles | Feb 26, 2015 | Blasting with Boyles
I was shocked and appalled to read the letters to the editor following my January column on Sand Creek in this newspaper.
One reader told me I was much better as a drunk. Dude, it’s been 30 years since I had a drink. Another letter writer declared that the next issue of this ‘“rag’” will go directly from his mail box to the dumpster because of my column. Finally, a learned physician wrote that ISIL would applaud my reasoning and compassion. The point I was trying to make was political correctness and the John Hickenlooper apology tour only goes so far.
The attacks came under the auspices of political correctness. Let’s review a little history.
One of my favorite Bolsheviks is the young Trotsky who invented the term “politically correct’’as in all good Bolsheviks must be politically correct in the thoughts of Lenin. Note to letter writers, Trotsky, get it? Let’s further romp through history where all the good little Germans had to be politically correct in the thoughts of the Fuhrer and lest we forget the great Helmsman, the Little Red Book shakers. You kids all remember the Red Guard, everybody was lockstep in their thinking.
We have seen this performance before in history where no one dares to speak out. We all must think in the same manner and we all must be politically correct.
Today, political correctness is destroying big media, corporate America and the lives of a number of politicians.
Not to mention Common Core and what all your kids and grandkids are learning in school.
If you notice, the letter writers never said one thing about what I wrote but only that I was a drunk and a trash heap and a member of ISIL.
I did however get a couple of letters from pretty good historians who told me to keep up the good work.
When the left can control the language, as Orwell teaches us with Big Brother, false accusations can be made and charges rendered. We can now expect to have nursery rhymes, instead of ‘“Baa Baa Black Sheep,’’ changed to “Baa Baa Rainbow Sheep.” Remember there’s no such thing as black coffee now.
We have seen many things come your way including “global warming.” Now, when I speak against “global warming” I am called a denier, interestingly enough a term that was applied to people in the Neo-Nazi movement who said the Holocaust never happened. Starting to get the picture?
Cultural sensitivity and political correctness are wrecking this country. I’ve spent almost seven years and a number of these columns questioning who is Barack Obama. As you know, everything historians called bona fides, from a manufactured birth certificate to his college entrance papers, high school papers, social security and draft card numbers have been suppressed.
When I raised that specter (thank you Karl Marx) I’m immediately called a racist, a bigot and a hate speaker. Those are all politically correct charges but not one person supplies the bona fides. Are you getting now how the game gets played?
We are headed toward speech codes, state approved churches and temples and Internet that passes state muster and career ending truthful statements.
So really what is the purpose of political correctness in our society today? One of my favorite people, Pat Buchanan, charges political correctness is cultural Marxism. I can’t argue with that.
We now face a modern inquisition. And punish people who are not politically correct in the thoughts of the progressive left.
To all of you, you better stand to. Dietrich Bonhoeffer was right, they will come for you.
So I’d like to thank you on the behalf of the ‘“old drunk’” and dumpster diver and member of ISIL. You people scare the hell out of me. The time will come, as John Gotti said headed to the penitentiary, you’re gonna wish I was back.
— Peter
by Peter Boyles | Feb 2, 2015 | Blasting with Boyles
I love medieval history. Disease was one of the greatest course changers in the history of the world. According to historians when certain diseases hit parts of the world, history is changed.
One of the interesting parts of the First World War was the arrival of what was called the Spanish Flu. That killed more American soldiers than the Germans. By far. And in fact a lot of people believe the flu ripped through the trenches on both sides. Because as I’m sure some of you know, the Germans believed they were ahead in the war before the flu struck.
When the plagues befell Europe in the middle of the 14th century they came in waves. Black Death and Red Death.
Red Death was smallpox and Black Death was bubonic plague.
If you read the stories of Columbus and the sailors of the 15th century, when picking out crews they looked for pock marks on the faces of recruits knowing that meant they had survived the plague and could go on the ship.
Sea captains were under strict orders never to come into port when they knew they had plague on board and would hoist a yellow flag telling people on shore that they had plague on the ship.
Also since I’m a cat lover, medieval Christians during the heights of plague believed it was brought on by Satan and of course Satan’s handmaidens, witches. And what rode on the tails of those brooms and lived with witches? You got it, cats.
What did cats kill? Cats killed rats. What rode on rats? Fleas. What did fleas carry? The plague. Are you starting to get the picture?
When I was a little fellow growing up in Pittsburgh I got scarlet fever. I have dim memories of it and remind everyone this was before penicillin was available to the average working class person. Today we call it strep but it can become scarlet fever and of course affects almost no one because it can be stopped in its tracks by penicillin.
The old man’s first floor apartment was quarantined by Allegheny County. No one was allowed into the house and I think only my dad would go out to work. One of the stories that was told to me about my mother is the Allegheny County health officials wanted to put me in a ward someplace in a Pittsburgh hospital. A friend of my mother’s said to her, “If they put that boy in that ward he’ll never come off it.” Things were so bad I may have died.
So after stuff like that, being sick, or as we say under the weather, doesn’t seem to be much of a big deal.
I also remember when the announcement came that Jonas Salk had cured polio. Now people won’t believe this but I remember the church bells ringing. I remember people hugging in the street because polio had been put to bed.
When I was in the fifth grade a kid up the street from us got polio. The panic that ran through the neighborhood was unbelievable. I make jokes today on myself that I can’t swim and a couple of reasons are that people believed you could get polio from swimming pools and that the river, which was close to the old man’s house was the wellspring for polio.
My dad never had a quarter for us to go swimming at a public pool and of course we were never allowed by the river. Because of polio I can’t swim.
In the last three or four months everybody I know is sick. In fact the publisher of this paper is also sick. I’ve been sick. And other people are talking about how everyone they know is sick.
You know we’re all going to get over this just as soon as this weather breaks (my mom used to say that).
But one of the things I think we can look at with pride is all the stuff that used to kill us, all the stuff that used to threaten us pretty much has been put to bed.
So now what do we have? We have obesity, high blood pressure, high cholesterol, heart attacks, diabetes, and all kinds of cancers.
But the little guys, like my grandson Liam and Chuck and Julie’s son Rev, will never have to worry like we did when we were little kids or some medieval Englishman about what was waiting for him in the shadows.
We do have good food. We do have clean water and the kinds of things that threatened my childhood will never threaten my grandson’s.
Be thankful. And that guy sitting next to you at work? Tell him to cover his mouth.
— Peter
P.S.: I’ve been sick since Thanksgiving.
by Peter Boyles | Nov 21, 2014 | Blasting with Boyles
As a young boy growing up I could catch the Christmas spirit right after Thanksgiving. I attended a little blue collar working class elementary school, William McKinley, and we would sing Christmas carols — remember when you could do that? Such political incorrectness as Silent Night, Little Town of Bethlehem and Santa Claus is coming to Town. There’s now fatwa by the high lord executioners in political correctness that prohibits all such merriment in today’s public schools. All of this good cheer and peace on earth must be stomped out and be replaced by the winter solstice.
So here’s a list of holiday celebrations I knew nothing about as a boy. Hanukkah. Kwanza. Ramadan and, of course, Festivus.
So let me bring a little focus on this time of the year. The funeral home across from the main gate of the steel mill I worked in was O’Neil’s. Run by a bunch of Irish drunks named O’Neil. One of the great things the O’Neils would do is put a live nativity scene in their front yard that consisted of a couple of dairy cows, a couple of sheep and maybe a goat. But I remember being in the sixth grade and from the cradle there was a beam of light that shone at night because this was the bed of the baby Jesus. I snuck under O’Neil’s fence, which was right across the street of the Edgewater Tavern to discover that the micks had put a bare 50-watt light bulb and extension cord in a little wooden cradle and I was shocked to see that a GE light bulb represented the Baby Jesus. Looking back on that I think it was my break point. After that the holidays have pretty much gone downhill.
Here is what I think of the various elements that help make up the yuletide season:
Decorating
I hate decorating. My father and members of his relatives put up a string of lights that would stay there 365 days a year. Plug that baby in December first, unplug it a couple of days after the New Year and neighbors would tell the old man if a bulb was out.
Christmas Trees
I always thought that the tree was supposed to go up on Christmas Eve. It took my brother Jeff to figure out the reason we always got the tree on Christmas Eve was that it was as cheap as it was going to get. Selling a tree on Christmas Eve is like trying to sell a dead cat; no one wanted one. The old man would wait to 6 p.m. on Christmas Eve, go to Allegheny Boulevard and buy a good tree. What are the odds he was not going to get a good deal? By the way, only later in life did I discover that bubble lights weren’t just for the rich people.
Shopping
I hate shopping. I’m not a good gift buyer or giver. I always like women that would do their own shopping and I would just pay for it and of course you can never go wrong with cold hard cash. I’ve written about him before but I had a wonderful Uncle Barnie who was a Seabee and worked on a dredge on the Allegheny River. The greatest gift package he ever gave me was a knife and a cigarette lighter that, when you tipped it upside down, the sailor girl’s clothes came off. For a sixth grade kid that’s the mother lode. A knife and a nude woman.
Fighting
Fighting may not be a standard Christmas night activity for all ethnic groups but it is a venerated Irish tradition. Now the Mayor of Glendale and recent gubernatorial candidate Mike Dunafon and I had discussed and pondered this question. How many times on Christmas Eve did the tree get knocked over? It’s like the Richter scale if you ever saw your uncle fall into the Christmas tree or somebody pushed him in. I’m telling you, that’s Christmas. Fighting is part of that.
The Blues
I know for many it is the most wonderful time of the year, but I find myself suffering once again from the Christmas time blues. I don’t seem to get them on Halloween or Groundhog Day, the Fourth of July or Labor Day. I know I’m not alone and as my friends say there’s standing room only at AA.
Santa
I don’t hate Santa but then again we have the Easter Bunny, the Tooth Fairy, God and Jesus. We teach kids they’re all real. But now with a grandson I think it will be most fun to watch him fall in love with Santa.
Let’s recap. How many times are we going to listen to Mariah Carey’s “All I want for Christmas is You.” Do you remember your drunk parents? Remember getting Christmas cards you have no idea who they were from? Living on nothing but turkey-based meals for a week after Christmas?
Once those presents are unwrapped it’s depressing. So I don’t want to be too middle class and we’ll ignore the obvious target of big box stores moving product. But doesn’t every one of us remember when they found out Father Christmas does not exist. Why it is shocking is because your sainted parents have simply been lying to you for the first seven or eight years of your life.
My real problem is that I never did get that pony.
So happy “ramanahanakwanzma. “ No “Merry Christmas.”
Put up your holiday tree and shut up. Remember this folks, Christmas trees are a pagan ritual. Happy New Year.
— Peter
by Peter Boyles | Oct 24, 2014 | Blasting with Boyles
Are you confused by the United States’ foreign policy in the Middle East? Let’s begin.
- We support the Iraqi government in its fight against ISIS.
2. We don’t like ISIS but ISIS is supported by Saudi Arabia who we do like.
- We don’t like Assad in Syria. We support the fight against him. But ISIS is also fighting against Assad.
- We don’t like Iran. But Iran supports the Iraqi government in its fight against ISIS.
- Some of our friends support our enemies.
- Some of our enemies are now our friends.
- And some of our enemies are fighting against our other enemies who we want to lose.
- But we don’t want our enemies who are fighting our enemies to win.
- If the people we want to defeat are defeated they could be replaced by people we like even less.
10. Reminding you all this was started by George W. Bush invading a country to drive out terrorists who weren’t actually there.
- But are there now.
Now do you understand American foreign policy??
I am currently reading political scientist Andrew Bacevich. He writes, “Since 1980 the United States has invaded, occupied or bombed 14 nations in the greater Middle East. If you’re following along at home let’s count them.
- Iran
- Libya
- Lebanon
- Kuwait
- Iraq
- Somalia
- Bosnia
- Saudi Arabia
- Afghanistan
- Sudan
- Kosovo
- Yemen
- Pakistan
- And now… Syria
So once again let’s do the math.
Tens of thousands of brave young men and women are wounded or dead. No one knows how many trillions have been lost and no one knows how many people in the Muslim world are dead or how many have become refugees. And I ask you for what?
Pat Buchanan asks that wonderful political question, are you better off now than you were 30 years ago with American policy in the Middle East?
Which terrorist organization do we want to win this battle?
In the news last week, al Qaeda and the Arabian peninsula, who the United States has been attacking for years, (remember the mind of George W. Bush — if you’re a Muslim and don’t like the United States you’re Taliban.) they sent a suicide bomber in an explosive filled automobile into a hospital occupied by Houthi rebels. Remember those boys? Their slogan was “Death to America, death to Israel, a curse on the Jews and a victory to Islam.” As Pat Buchanan says, how do you figure this one?
The Houthis are fighting Al-Qaeda like Hezbollah is fighting Al-Qaeda. Both are Shia supported by Iran which is on our side against ISIS and Syria and Syria is on our side against the Islamic state in Iraq.
I have no idea what this is all about. Can you attempt to understand any of this?
I’ll leave you with this.
George W. Bush’s most compelling evidence for an invasion of Iraq was forged reports alleging Saddam Hussein had been secretly buying raw material to build an atomic bomb. Remember it. It was called the “Italian letter.”
Happy Thanksgiving.
— Peter
by Peter Boyles | Sep 29, 2014 | Blasting with Boyles
Cary Grant, Age 70
Maybe you can relate to this column, except if you have been happily married for 45 years, in which case you are the human equivalent of a unicorn.
I always described my mother and father’s marriage as being like the Vietnam war. They fought every day until they forgot why they were fighting but continued battling on anyway. I’m a big fan of Hank Williams Sr., who in the legendary country song Mind Your Own Business, declared: “Me and my old lady got a license to fight.”
I have long joked that I can’t do math and I can’t do marriage. This is not the Courtship of Eddie’s Father or Sleepless in Seattle. I can’t get it right. The protocols and practice of dating I think vary with each relationship to where you live, how old you are or whether or not you drink.
Back in the old days one of my many mantras was, “I can drink her pretty.” Or again, another country legend, Mickey Gilley’s Don’t the Girls All Get Prettier at Closing Time. I was a whirlwind at that. I couldn’t miss. There were degrees to my drinking. One of the levels arrived about nine o’clock on Friday nights when in my mind I became Robert Redford. I became bulletproof until about one-thirty in the morning when I became invisible. That worked well then. That was then, this is now.
How many really cool singles places are there for guys my age? I tried the websites. My personal favorite is bikerplanet.com, where you want to take her with you in case there’s a bar fight. I love these women, they’re my dear friends, but it’s not my idea of a partner in an intimate relationship with eyes on the future. I also gave millionaire.com a shot where everyone is a liar. But, if I had millions stashed away, I wouldn’t have to work so hard for a date.
Also, there’s the Christian singles but for a practicing pagan like myself that leaves me little room. I looked at OurTime.com but these people were born well before the Japanese hit Pearl Harbor.
I’ve tried them all and I’ve given up on matchmaking services, family as matchmakers, Ouija boards and TV shows.
Some of my friends are seeing women in their 20s. Their so-called “nieces.” We have talked about downtown Denver hotels where you can see older men saying goodnight to their “nieces.” But I think that’s a little over the top.
As guys approach septuagenarian status they like to see themselves as being Cary Grant squiring around Dyan Cannon, except they are not Cary Grant. Plus Grant and Cannon were reportedly miserable together. She divorced him before he even hit the big seven zero.
This is a quandary. I know there are many men and women my age who feel like this is the last chapter of “What’s the use.”
How do you go about being a single guy or gal in this part of our lives? I have a homosexual friend who once said to me. “Nobody loves you when you’re old and gay.” I think that’s true for straights, too.
So if you have any suggestions, let me know. We could make a fortune because I know a lot of people out there who share in my dilemma.
I have therefore decided to forget about relationships and I am going to take the time I would otherwise have devoted to dating and building a relationship to helping others. There are lots of vets from Iraq and Afghanistan with physical disabilities, PTSD and TBI that could use some support that the VA is not providing. Moreover, there are going to be a lot more on the way with our latest insane Iraqi/Syria incursion.
There are also plenty of recovering alcoholics and drug addicts down at Step 13 who, as they say, need a “hand up and not a hand out.” I have found helping others is the best way to stop worrying about myself. Moreover, you never know who you might meet when you are not looking. As the inestimable Scarlett O’Hara so pithily stated, “After all, tomorrow is another day.”
— Peter
