Isaiah: Long necked women and their boys

Isaiah 1:1 1-49. “The vision concerning Judah and Jerusalem that Isaiah saw

“I reared children and brought them up but they have rebelled against me.....woe to the sinful nation, a people whose guilt is great, a brood of evildoers, children given to corruption! They have forsaken the Lord; ....your hands are full of blood!...Wash and make yourselves clean, Take your evil deeds out of my sight; stop doing wring, learn to do right; seek justice.  Defend the oppressed. Take up the cause of the fatherless; plead the case of the widow. .See how the faithful city has become a prostitute! She was once full of justice; righteousness used to dwell in her - but now murderers! .....Your rulers are rebels, partners with thieves; they all love bribes and chase after gifts. They do not defend the cause of the fatherless; the widow’s case does not come before them.

2. In the last days....the mountains of the Lord’s temple will be established as the highest of the mountains....Come let us go up to the mountain of the Lord, to the temple of the God of Jacob...He will teach us his ways so that we may walk in his paths.....stop trusting in mere humans who have but a breath in their nostrils. Why hold them in esteem?....

3. “I will make mere youths their officials ;children will rule over them..people will oppress each other -man against man, neighbour against neighbour. The young will rise up against the old, the nobody against the honoured....the look on their faces testifies against them; they parade their sin like Sodom, they do not hide it . Woe to them! They have brought disasters upon themselves.....Tell the rightestous it will be well with them for they will enjoy the fruit of their deeds, Woe to the wicked!....Youths oppress my people, women rule over them.....the Lord says the Women of Zion are haughty walking along with outstretched necks flirting with their eyes strutting along with swaying hips, with ornaments jingling on their ankles....therefore the Lord will bring sores on the heads of the women of Zion....instead of fragrance there will be stench...instead of beauty, branding...Your men will fall by the sword, your warriors in battle.’

Reading the Bible so often is as if the events described are today when indeed they are universal and forever.  That’s the  nature of the Holy.  It resonates.  It’s open to interpretations.  

In the Bible like in science there is cause and effect and there’s possibility of change.  In Materialistic Determinism all is fixed. There is no ‘free will’.  Naturally people take pride in success and blame others or fate in failure but they deny ‘right and wrong’. The Bible has morality and ethics.  I’ve left out a lot of this passage of Isaiah.  I like Isaiah.  Great images.  

Manning Park Marmots

On the way back from Princeton, I stopped at Manning Park lodge to see the marmots. The last time I picnicked there was years past, later in the year, and the marmots were very fat.  They have signs up saying don't feed the wild life. Now they were smaller but just as adorable.

Princeton BC Townsite

Laura and I stayed at Riverside Cabins by the Bridge off Bridge Road. We really enjoyed our stay. We enjoyed walking about the lovely little town with all the friendly people. I took some pictures. I hope to get to St. Paul's Church on another visit.    All round a great trip with Laura and Gilbert.

Riverside Cabins, Princeton, BC

Laura and I loved Riverside Cabins in Princeton BC.  It was the May Long Weekend and we attached a couple of days off to that to get more of a holiday.  I've stayed in most every place in Princeton over the thirty years I've been coming up there. So often these cabins have been full.  Where we'd call the Princeton Castle Restort Cabins elegant, with their in suite hot tubs, Riverside Cabins  are rustic and homey.  Gilbert our old blind cockapoo dog loved them.

Laura and I liked swimming in the river years ago when we'd been there before. This weekend the river was rushing full and so many places in the interior had flooded. Laura had phoned the owner that week to confirm that the cabins themselves weren't flooded.

Instead of putting our lawn chairs on the beach, we put them up beside the cabin.

The rooms were clean with stove, sink, fridge , cable television,shower, huge hot water tank, microwave, and coffee maker. We stopped at the Save On Foods a block away and brought back chips, yoghurt, drinks and snacks.

Each morning we walked up to Thomasina's Cafe and had omelettes and cappuccino.  One night I picked up a pizza we loved from DQ mall, while another night I picked up delicious steaks from Little Creek Grill.  I came back so late once only A&W was open but Laura enjoyed the onion rings and Mossa burgers.  She actually made sandwiches in the kitchen for lunch.

We walked Gilbert on the dike each night.  Everything in town was walking distance. I love the Home Hardware. They really treat Gilbert like he's special with treats he is too excited to eat at the time but demands once we get back to the cabin.

Princeton Outdoor Supply Store is the best.    In the past I've bought binoculars, fishing lures, and camouflage clothing there.  This time I got a locally made antler handled hunting knife.  Laura loved the Shopper's Drug Mart and came away with eye liner.  It was sweet being in town but feeling out of town down by the river.  There's such peace and quiet there.

We didn't have wi fi in the room but just had to walk out into the driveway to get the signal.  This meant we could connect, gather mail and download whatever, but we certainly got a break from 'internet'.

I drove up into the woods and enjoyed just driving around the back country in my Ford F350 Cowboy Cadillac. I actually sighted in my Winchester Coyote 300 win mag short.  With shells $2.50 a piece it's easy to shoot off $20 to $30 without a thought.  I was glad to have my breakdown Ruger 22 rifle along to slaughter coke cans at pennies a shell.  I didn't see any bear or bear sign or rabbits but I did see 2 grouse and there were lots of deer in the town.  I could have gone fly fishing for rainbow as I've caught those in the north.

But I was reading the great Peter Rimmer novel and Laura thought that being on vacation we shouldn't get out of bed before noon. We did have great walks around the town. Everyone was so friendly.

I did ride my electric bicycle up into the hills.It is great on the flat but took a lot of pedalling to ascend. I was advised to have the brakes adjusted after I'd ridden it a bit.  This became imperative after the brakes stopped working coming down the mountain. If I thought my heart was working pedalling uphill downhill it was surviving a maximal stress test. I eventually slowed down on the flat.

The sun and blue sky were wonderful.  It got so hot I realized it was time for my summer haircut. Eikonic Hair Salon did a fine job according to Laura and friends.

Our stay at Riverside Cabins was  perfect. We do hope to come back and stay there again. The owners were so considerate and welcoming.

Heterophobia: Sexual Harrassment and the Future of Feminism by Daphne Patai

When reading such a brilliant, well researched, well considered book, as Heterophobia: Sexual Harrassment and the Future of Feminism by Daphne Patai, it is sadly true that radical feminism, that perverse ideology and those who generate the increasingly proven false fear monger ing statistics of women’s study, simply will not expose themselves to such a work. When Hoff-Summers wrote ‘Who stole Feminism’ she was ahead of her time noting then that women’s liberation and the suffragette movement had no relationship to the modern male bashing anti humanity ‘feminism’ of this day.

Daphne Patai has done a remarkable job of exposing the Sexual Harrassment Industry critiquing the ever expanding domain of ‘Sexual Harrassment’ and the financial and influential rewards of promotion of this very lucrative and powerful position.  Throughout her book she points to the irony of the ‘apparently powerless victims’ gaining incredible victory after victory in a matter of a very few years.  Sexual Harrassment claims have become the ‘new whiplash industry ‘. Instead of ambulance chasing lawyers there are now countless hoards of social activist warriors ready to descend like locusts on the ‘accused’ whether innocent or otherwise.  She points to Andrea Dworkins claim that ‘millions of men want a woman at work to suck their cock’ which were it to be considered of any other group would be the lowest of hate speech. Imagine saying that black men want black women at work solely for oral sex. It all works only if one accepts the under pinning feminist ideology as stated by Catherine MacKinnon author of the 1979 highly influential Sexual Harrassment of Working Women. ‘Sexual Harrassment ....eroticizes women’s subordination....It acts out and deepens the powerlessness of women as a a gender, as women. ‘

What is deceitful is that there is no mention of the traditional sexual ‘power’ of women over men and the many ways they use this power to achieve upward mobility and success.  The other most successful writer in the Sexual Harrassment Industry has produced a work that simply never addresses the ‘innocent’ and ‘false accused’. Indeed the insanity of this industry is to argue that women ‘don’t lie about sex’.  This claim is as ludicrous as to say Nazi’s  would never gas Jews yet it’s exists throughout the Sexual Harrassment Industry.  Patai argues this is because the underlying purpose of the Sexual Harrassment Industry is creation of money, jobs and essentially the destruction of male and female relationships by increasing beurocratic barriers mostly orchestrated by quasi legal administrative bodies fearing principally for their own positions and unwilling to risk saying no to a sterile movement. Better to outlaw ‘hugging’ and accept that despite the usual argument of ‘power’ male students obviously sexually harass female teachers because it’s not about anything more than destruction of the heterosexual relationships.  

She moves through each of the major cases  in the history of the Sexual Harrassment Industry’s increasing destruction of freedom of speech and expression and increasing power victories while claiming victimship.  She identifies the misuse of language to create a propagandistic halcyon cry  of ‘the skies falling’ ‘every woman has been a victim of rape’ to generate class size and industry influence.  She notes that there is never a discussion of what is ‘trivial’ versus ‘serious’ and everything from even the ‘male gaze’ in a public space  is considered traumatic and ‘very serious Harrassment.’  She shows how increasingly the words ‘Sexual Harrassment’ are replaced by ‘discomfort’ and that the language is manipulated routinely implying objectivity to a purely subjective and utterly biased fiction.  Discussing the industrial growth of the Sexual Harrassment Industry she states that it would be ‘refreshingly honest if feminists were to say, ‘tough you men had a good run for your money, now we’’ve got the winning hand’ . Instead feminists dress up their game in utopian jargon and greater justice......as many critics have pointed out....were extreme feminist causes to succeed it would be just another instance of one abusive group being replaced by another.’

She quotes Jeffry Rosen’s comment that MacKinnon has ‘nearly won the war to transform Title VII from a law that bans sex discrimination to a law that bans sexual expression’.  To get more of the ‘pie’ the Sexual Harrassment Industry have moved from the rare reprehensible historic workplace event to what others have described as a full fledge attack on ‘toxic masculinity’ as it appears in any aspect of society, and the key to understanding this is that ‘all masculinity’ is ‘toxic’.  

Farley discussed in contrast the upward mobility of women such as Elizabeth Ray, who was employed by Congressman Wilbur Hays for a job which she was unqualified for, and that these endless examples ‘testify to the ways in which women have always been able to use their sexuality as a means of upward mobility.’ By contrast she points out that the ‘power of the charge of Sexual Harrassment is, at the present moment, enormous. It can unleash formdable institutional forces against an alleged harrasser often with a complete absence of due process.’  She points to the suicides of those innoscents who are falsely accused and how the feminists consider their loss and death as acceptable. Like any radical ideologues the  feminists will use whatever means to achieve their ‘justified ends’.  

‘Victime of Sexual Harrassment (no matter how trivial) gain the status of ‘survivors’ tantamount to those who have suffered ‘brutal assault, torture, or persecution’. ‘ Not to be outdone she writes, psychology has jumped on the bandwagon providing endless counselling for those ‘grieving’ their experiences.  

She speaks also about the ‘Sexual Harrassment vigilantism’ that has extended in it’s attempt to ‘ban, or otherwise regulate consensual relationships between individuals who occupy ‘hierarchically ‘ distinct positions relative to one another.  According to MacKinnon ‘economic power is to Sexual Harrassment as physical force is to rape’.  However in the expanding domain of the Sexual Harrassment Industry, ‘asymmetrical relationships’  have moved to include ‘symmetrical relationships’ and even forgive ‘female professors who are sexually harrassed by students’ as evidenced in the male students negative ‘assessment’ of the  professor’s teaching. There is no question that the teacher may be lousy but now the student, if male , is sexually harassing her. .

She critiques the highly dubious Bernice R. Sandler and Robert J. Shop Sexual Harrassment on Campus, a Guide for Administrations, Faculty, and Students for it’s ‘bizarre propensity for reconceptualizing personal relationships largely in terms of power. ‘. In detail she points out it’s outrageous contradictions and actual abuse of statistics such that were it any other area of study it would be wholly disqualified from academic inclusion.  

She quotes sociologist Joel Best’s useful analytical model for ‘claims-makers and their techniques’, Best having studied the construction of victimization in the American life over the past decades.  Applied to the Sexual Harrassment Industry it’s extremely revealing and the patterns it exposes are profoundly disturbing.  I remember a psychologist I met decades ago who said the industry of America was ‘victims and caregivers’.  Best goes far beyond this to show how easily a ‘crisis’ of ‘victimization’ can be ‘created’ and those promoting it can receive powerful rewards regardless of the damage done to the society and individual. The elastic definition of ‘sexual harrassment’ and the ‘female antagonism towards’ men and the underlying antipathy towards heterosexuality are just the beginning.

Reading this amazing book and work of great scholarship I’m aware of it’s place alongside other works that discuss the ‘death culture’ of the west, abortion and euthanasia culture and Marxist hatred for the family.  It’s amazing in it’s detail and balanced discussion of what might well be described as the mental health epidemic of our day.   It’s significance is that it’s writing was at ground zero. 

Daphne Patai is an American Scholar , born 1943 in Jerusalem, Professor in the Department of Languages, Literature and Cultures at the University of Massachusetts Amherst. 

Heterophobia: Sexual Harrassment and Future of Feminism (American Intellectual Culture) 

Publisher rowman and Littlefield 1998

Thomasina's Cafe, Bistro and Bakery, Princeton, BC

I love Thomasina's Cafe in Princeton.  Laura and I found it first last year and looked forward to returning.  Great coffee ,great meals, great service, and great atmosphere.  We sat outside on the street with Gilbert watching the world of Princeton pass by.  The picturesque bridge leading to Tulameen a lovely view.

The coffee shop idea was made famous by Starbucks and Blenz but I remember the first one I encountered was in Marin County California. No doubt they developed in a lot of places in the late 70’s and 80’s. They were a distinct creation akin to the development of the English pub.

The Turkish coffee shop went back to the 1700’s but was really a place for men to smoke and drink. I loved the ones I visited in Istanbul.This western coffee shop idea was distinctive in it’s feminine elegance.  Thomasina’s decor is light and thoughtful.

The unique western coffeeshop often family owned, certainly has none of the factory efficiency of marvellous McDonald’s with it’s excellent McCafe coffee. Thomasina's had a much more refined ambience.

The trucker diner coffee was more about the meals and cowboys.   The coffee was at times questionable. The English tea house was all about the fine Wedgewood china and exotic teas. Living in London I did enjoy these.  In Victoria the Empress Hotel still has a fine high tea service. The western coffeehouse seemed to take off from this with an emphasis on coffee. In Amsterdam the coffeeshop was all about marijuana. It was hard to write at my laptop with all the second hand smoke.

Thomasina's Cafe not only serves a variety of coffees including the cappucino’s we enjoyed daily but also has fresh baked baquettes and muffins.  Locals came and went each day we were there clutching to their hearts loaves of fresh baked bread and pastries.  It was like a little sliver of Paris. The bread we had was utterly delicious.  They have a gelato and ice cream bar too.

They also sold local hand poured soy candles. We bought a sage grass one and burned it all week in our Riverside Cabin enjoying the rich fragrance it gave our room each night.  But candles and hand made pottery mugs are consistent with the western feminine coffeehouse theme.   I don’t believe these coffeehouses could had developed before the 60’s. They’re faintly reminiscent of times when girls wore flowers in their hair.  Then they really took off with computers and iPhones.

Thomasina's had the added bistro with quiche we loved and other sandwiches and light repastes. 

I remember the very first one of these coffeehouses that migrated to  Bombai.  It took a decade in an era when a decade was what it took for a meme to move around the world. Today given the internet and almost universal television the time is sometimes only days or weeks.   All the other cafe’s and restaurants in  the city now called Mumbai  were distinctly Indian yet here was this one cafe with white walls, flowers, special coffees and a touch of Marin elegance.  There were beautiful educated young ladies in colourful saris chatting safely. It was the mid 80’s. I think they served chai tea but I remember the espresso. With sufficient hot water this powerful brew was called an Americano. 

 It wasn’t long before the Starbuck’s chain became part of the Jetsetter routine.   Sitting in Thomsina I could be anywhere in the world and those sitting there with me might have flown in from any first world destination. Only the middle and upper classes would pay the price of designer coffees knowing they were paying as much for peace and atmosphere. Where the Starbucks has lost much of it’s original panache, the small family based coffee shops catering to local needs and to passing tourists have excelled.

I love these places for connecting to the internet.  The internet cafe’s were dominated by the digital geek while Thomasina retains the centrality of coffee, conversation and a light meal.  It’s omelettes were simple and unsurpassed.

In Winnipeg the first of these elegant third spaces developed in Osborne Village.  I remember leaving a week of medical call, emergency and obstetrics, to enjoy a light lunch in the Village.  It was such a reprieve from the hustle.  Sometimes the cafe’s have had the international papers. They’re 20th and 21st century creations, the best of the best.  

Thomasina’s made Laura and my stay in Princeton all that much better, especially being able to sit outside on the patio with our little dog reminiscing about our patio dining in Rome.  There vespas drove by us whereas in Princeton it was Harley's.

Sunday, May Long Weekend, Cabin Life, Princeton BC

Gilbert fell off the bed at three in the morning.  The crash had both Laura and I up worried the blind little guy might be hurt. I sleep with a flashlight, iPhone and large Bowie knife by the bed.  In defence the heavy flashlight might be best.  In the light Gilbert was standing there with his stick.  His stick had fallen off the bed and he had followed it over.  I looked at my watch then and saw that Naomi had had ber baby Faith and Derek had texted us before midnight. We’d gone to sleep at ten.  Fat fingers fumbling with the little screen I pressed the stock message, ‘in a meeting, will get back to you’ and thanks.  I found iPhone then and texted congratulations and hallelujah.  ‘In a meeting’ so inappropriate for such a sacred herald.  The stock phrases on iwatches need to be upgraded.

In bed Gilbert pushed Laura over and Laura pushed me over and I clung to the edge of the bed all night.  For a little guy he hogs a lot of the bed.

It’s sunny today.  Blue sky. Fresh air. Riverside cabins.  A pleasant retreat.  I’ve made espresso coffee and had my second cup. I’m not satisfied till I’m trembling.  The day is a blank screen to write a tale on.  I’ve suggested omelettes again at Thomasina.  Laura’s in the shower now.  Gilbert’s asleep in his bed. I’ve gone out in the court yard and with the wifi there downloaded mail and facebook.   Rodeo pictures of Anna and the god kids.  Faith, the new baby, looks most healthy and very pretty indeed.  The Royal wedding is still in the news.  Rev Peter Elliott vacationing in  Europe was pleased with the American sermon at the English wedding.  A letter with pictures of the half naked stars of Cannes came today from a friend, all looking more like harlots and  pole dancers than professional actresses. The post had  the title, ‘they complain they’re sexually harrassed’.  The news says that the name Melania rises daily in popularity as a baby name.  She speaks so many languages and is more educated and refined that the carne talk show hosts whose jokes are now 2 years old.  The American embassy in Jerusalem is a big deal. The peace talks between North and South Korea are incredible as well.  

I’m doing nothing but reading historical fiction novels in the sun.  I finished the Brignanshaw Chronicles by the Incredible writer Peter Rimmer, a new Wilber Smith. I’ve read three of the series and now must wait for the 4th to come out.  Great history of family and Rhodesia.  Now I’m reading about the 14th century John Ball peasant revolt over the outrageous taxation of the people.  Apropos with PM Justin Trudeau impoverishing Canadians to pay off terrorists, Pakistan while spreading abortion and communism.  The price of gas is obscene today.  

I am thankful though that I got a cabin rather than tented. The rain last night and wet ground would have dampened tenting. I’ve done it so many times and lived under tarps and slept on the ground but Laura who has been a trooper through so many of those adventure deserves this space she enjoys with kitchenette and hot and cold water showers.  

She’s content to read and lie about. I feel ‘restless’.   Not so ‘irritible’ and less’ discontent’ but I do feel I ‘ought’ to be doing ‘something’.  I expect I’ll get in the truck later and drive about the backwoods shoot targets and watch for a bear wanting MAID.  I’d just as soon shoot a rabbit.  I’ve become more sentimental than I was younger.  And lazy.  But it’s always godly in the hunt. There was a veritable otherworldly halo about the deer I shot last year. I almost heard the angels singing ‘this is a gift for you’. Shooting is natural for food.  It’s more intuition than reason and not at all emotional except for the hungry.

I dreamed I was on a new ship. I’ve a penisula where I go and there are friends and family from throughout my life that are there. Sometimes a meeting o the old women and I’m a little tike, more often I’m a young man with other young men and women in some warm climate with my sailboat and I’m in harbour.  This time I had a magnificent sailboat not 40 feet but more like 100 or 200  feet or more. The state room could seat 20 around tables bolted to the floor, lovely china tea cups. . I was also in a room with all kinds of books but mostly children’s books and sitting on the floor I was excited at the thought of having time to read these once a gain. The deck and cockpit were magnificent with excellent rigging and a well cared for engine. A couple of friends were helping with odd jobs.  One room looked like my storage locker and I was having help sorting it out.  

I’d dreamed of my mother. She was beautiful as only a small boy could know. Her red hair and freckles lovely in the sunshine.  I am happy when I dream of visits from the family. Sometimes the dogs who have gone before are frolicking too.  There have been so many deaths of loved one these last years. I am thankful that I just see this as another room.  Many mansions.  Quantum reality. A kind of heaven.  In my case I’ll have a boat and meetings rooms prepared for me.  

Waking is kind. This weather is sublime.  So much green and the relative quiet of country. Small town reality.  I talked with a neighbour who rode in on a n 850 cc Yamaha motorcycle. Old men pleasantry..  Another man with two boys and I talked about dogs and sons.  These traveller conversations a day brings.  Casual communication.  Waiting for Godot.  Walden Pond simplicity.  Outside the screen door there’s a tall lilac bush. We’ve been enjoying the scents.  At night we burn the sage soy candle and it fills the room with sweet fragrance.  

Laura is out of the shower. My turn.  I bought another knife yesterday. Locally made from found factory steel and antler by a local old man. I felt good about supporting the local economy, useful artistry.  Over the years I’ve given away knives and Bibles among other things.  I once gave a way the finest pens.  Gifting lets me replenish myself and gives me comfort.  Now to the shower.  Then the omelette and then I don’t know what I’ll do.  I’m not making it to church. I’m a good winter Christian but in summer I’m more Constantinian especially when the sun is out.