[Vision2020] Politics and Poetry

[DonaldH675 at aol.com]

Aaron and Visionaries:
Perhaps Aaron understands the following excerpt from  Credenda Agenda 
differently than I do.  In my opinion, a  close reading suggests that the head of 
household represents the  family internally (within the church) and externally in 
the  secular community.   
"For example, when women were granted the right to vote, the  nation had 
already accepted the lie that a nation is nothing more than a  collection of 
individuals . And so the matter was framed this way men as  individuals can vote, 
so why cannot individual women do the same? We were so  muddled we thought we 
were giving the franchise to women when we were in fact  taking it away from 
families. ...How many churches reckon membership by  household? How many 
churches vote by household, with the head of each house  representing that family?"
Doug Wilson: "Recovering the  Masculine mind", Volume 7, Issue 5: Thema  
_http://www.credenda.org/issues/7-5thema.php_ 
(http://www.credenda.org/issues/7-5thema.php) 
I cling to the hope that I misunderstand the meaning of Doug's  remarks.  
Aaron, could you clarify this issue?  Do the wives of Christ  Church and Trinity 
Reformed vote on matters within those faith  communities?  Do the wives of 
Christ Church and Trinity Reformed vote in  civic elections - and if so, is it 
the policy of the church (and their  husbands) that wife vote in tandem with 
their husbands?  Perhaps a  better way to phrase the question would be, is a wife 
expected to be in  submission to the political opinions of her husband?
Thanks for the suggestion to read some poetry, Aaron.  I was  immediately 
reminded of one of my favorite Robert Burns  poems.  It is a saucy summary of my 
sentiments when I think  of the academic environment of NSA. 
To A Louse

On Seeing One on a  Lady's Bonnet at Church
by Robert Burns. 

 
Ha! whare ye gaun' ye crowlin ferlie?
Your impudence  protects you sairly;
I canna say but ye strunt rarely
Owre gauze and  lace,
Tho faith! I fear ye dine but sparely
On sic a place.

Ye  ugly, creepin, blastit wonner,
Detested, shunn'd by saunt an sinner,
How  daur ye set your fit upon her--
Sae fine a lady!
Gae somewhere else and  seek your dinner
On some poor body.

Swith! in some beggar's hauffet  squattle;
There ye may creep, and sprawl, and sprattle;
Wi' ither kindred,  jumping cattle;
In shoals and nations;
Whare horn nor bane ne'er daur  unsettle
Your thick plantations.

Now haud you there! ye're out o'  sight,
Below the fatt'rils, snug an tight,
Na, faith ye yet! ye'll no be  right,
Till ye've got on it--
The vera tapmost, tow'rin height
O'  Miss's bonnet.

My sooth! right bauld ye set your nose out,
As plump an  grey as onie grozet:
O for some rank, mercurial rozet,
Or fell, red  smeddum,
I'd gie you sic a hearty dose o't,
Wad dress your  droddum!

I wad na been surpris'd to spy
You on an auld wife's flainen  toy
Or aiblins some bit duddie boy,
On's wyliecoat;
But Miss's fine  Lunardi! fye!
How daur ye do't?

O Jeany, dinna toss your head,
An  set your beauties a' abread!
Ye little ken what cursed speed
The blastie's  makin!
Thae winks an finger-ends, I dread,
Are notice takin!

O wad  some Power the giftie gie us
To see oursels as ithers see us!
It wad frae  monie a blunder free us
An foolish notion:
What airs in dress an gait wad  lea'es us,
An ev'n devotion!

 
Rose  Huskey
Who speaks for the chickens, people?   Who?

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