Wednesday, January 23, 2013

Male and female

In regard to Fr. Braaten's post about Lewis' take on Biblical maleness and femaleness we have this, which is evidently not a statement by The Onion: "Women in all branches of the military soon will have unprecedented opportunities to serve on the front lines of the nation's wars." 

What a great opportunity! Where can I sign up my wife and daughters?

Read more: http://www.foxnews.com/politics/2013/01/23/panetta-opens-combat-roles-to-women/#ixzz2IpzuRGGD

+HRC

9 comments:

  1. I asked Judy Tenuda if she was gonna join up and go kill jihadists and she said, "It could happen."

    http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=j8YTXQgYaX8

    With this woman between us and jihad, we can all sleep soundly.

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  2. And all uniformed and in formation. This is what we put between us and the North Koreans. It could happen!

    http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sWejiWlqG_o

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  3. Actually, my greataunt Ophelia (but everybody called her Little Annie), was a markswoman with blue ribbons covering her walls. Yes, her husband died 10 years into their nuptual bliss, and she was a famous, though, local professional widow for like 50 or 60 years.

    She didn't approve of my father marrying my mother, (no account white trash girl), so they had to run away to Magnolia to get married before Little Annie could plug her full of holes. And, that ain't no joke! We could probably find some women to be snipers of some renown and effectiveness. And, have I got a little list.....

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  4. No, really, my Aunt Julia said she was at home, greataunty lived with them, and told Mama that Little Annie was pacing from the front door to the back, waving her guns and uttering murderous threats about the sweet, gentle, and pretty (n.a.w.t.g.). So, the newly married (this is in 1944 of course) couple took plenty time to get back from Magnolia.

    Yeah, just cause you can shoot out somebody's left eyeball at 300 yards, doesn't mean you really will. I must say that this episode left a coolness (a frisson) between Mama and Little Annie that even the grave has not warmed.

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  5. Our President said it himself! "Today, every American can be proud that our military will grow even stronger with our mothers, wives, sisters and daughters playing a greater role in protecting this country we love."

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  6. In the order of creation, man protects his woman, and his woman is his obedient help meet for him. I've never responded well in a situation where I thought the man in my life was not reliably protective of me, especially in social situations. "Honey, don't just let that man pinch my butt. You go over there and tell him we don't appreaciate that and it will not happen again." I expect my man to keep me safe in social and other situations. Now, if the pincher is 7 feet tall and is a wrassler on TV, we'll just complain loudly to the host/hostess, and leave. I couldn't stand seeing my man hurt. Especially if I felt somewhat responsible. "Well how come you stood close enough to that Neanderthal that he could reach your butt?"

    Well, anyway, I do understand in the core of my being why just male dates, would throw themselves between their female date and a schizo killer. I can also imagine the pain the girls must feel knowing that such good men, worth their salt, died protecting them. It's a pain that just won't go away. He might have become her husband, this man willing to throw himself between her and a bullet. She would have a hugh sense of loss, as all linked to them will feel to, even for her sake.

    The purpose of the war is to protect your women and children from the enemy. Your women and children are the future of your country; we protect them like ants would protect their queen. That way is survival. Women control how much a population grows or dosen't grow. In demographics, the number of women in a population is much more important than the number of men, in that population's ability to grow and prosper. If we send our mothers to die on battlefields, we lost the whole rational. That like living on your principle instead of on your interest income. The more of your women that the enemy kills, the smaller you populations ability to grow becomes. Protect the mothers and potential mothers from the enemy. But, we all know this. It's hard wired in our brains.

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  7. "Honey, don't just let that man pinch my butt. You go over there and tell him we don't appreciate that and it will not happen again."

    We do thank the discrete lady for not screaming, and upsetting the carnival's ambiance ... or perhaps we should wonder why she didn't ... but I believe the Christianly thing to do would be to take the car keys from the obviously intoxicated offender, and escort him somewhere to sleep it off. He's either been sadly blinded by cheap booze; or it's near closing time, when everything looks sultry and available.

    Mostly I appeal to the example of the better of Noah's boys i.e., don't thrash Ham; but cover the fallen. And let vengeance be God's.

    Your (unworthy) servant,
    Herr Doktor

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  8. Any nation that sends its daughters, mothers, wives and sisters into combat deserves to be conquered and pillaged by crazy warlike foreigners (notwithstanding our own home grown martial idolaters)
    Men (who are in reality boneless wonders) that support this abomination are beneath my contempt.
    - Watson

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  9. Usually a woman jumps when unexpetedly a man pinches her, and she slaps his hand and gives him a look that could kill. If it hurts, and most likely it will, you'll hear a loud "ow". If she has a nice gin martini in hand, the pincher will soon be wearing it. On the other hand, my mother always had to handle situations like this on her own, she was perfectly capable of protecting herself, but she would always want daddy to say or do something, and he never would because he would laugh out loud when she told him. He always thought these things were funny. My mother was a farm girl, very petite, and knew a lot about horses. But she was well known for having once knocked-out a date who touched the wrong spot. She swivled in the car seat and hit him in the chest with both feet, knocking the air out of him. She was afraid she had killed him, till he caught his breath again and took her directly home. Daddy might laugh, but the party for him and her was over at that point, as she was going home, with or without him. He always stayed by his woman. But he was very shy at parties, preferring to watch more than to interact. Daddy was socially inept, but in our little town, everybody knew that since High School dances and made allowances. He was quite capable in his professional persona and generally well liked. Those were the days when our town was still a pretty small fish bowl.

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