[Vision2020] A few Sunday thoughts on looks, theology, rancor and city staff

[Joan Opyr]

On Jul 2, 2006, at 6:33 AM, Tom Hansen wrote:

> Deacon James stated earlier"
>
> "Gabe,
> I've said it before, but it bears repeating: You are a good-looking 
> fella."
>
> And now "No Clue" Lemon-O farris proudly claims:
>
> "He [Deacon James] is a young good looking man . . . "

As if looks were the point.  It doesn't matter if Deacon James is a 
dead ringer for Antonio Banderas (in Shrek II) or that Gabe Rench is 
mistaken for Orlando Bloom by the teenyboppers who work the Wendy's 
late-night drive-thru.  When you act like Beavis and Butthead, no one 
notices your lovely blue eyes and your tight little . . . wallet.  The 
externals fade into the background, drowned out by the chorus of boos, 
hisses, and "oh my god, how flippin' juvenile."  Forty may be the new 
thirty -- I'll find out in five months time -- but behaving like a 
fourteen year-old when you are not, in fact, a fourteen year-old is 
never attractive.  It's grim.  And it's discouraging.  I remember in 
the seventies seeing bumper stickers that said, "The difference between 
men and boys is the price of their toys."  I didn't think it was funny 
then, and I don't find it funny now.  I like grown men, smart men, 
responsible men -- I like men who are secure enough to be themselves 
and to let me be me.  I'm fortunate to know many such men, and I enjoy 
their company very much.  Men are not from Mars, and women are not from 
Venus; we're all from Earth.  Of course, not all of us are from the 
surface . . .

Speaking of which, I want to address something J. Ford just posted from 
Doug Wilson's blog.  Doug claims that someone placed a condom in his 
mailbox because of "rancor" created against him by people like myself.  
Poppycock.  Accept a little responsibility, Doug.  You are perfectly 
capable of brewing up a cloud of rancor whenever and wherever you 
write, speak, or sing hillbilly anthems in Friendship Square.  You have 
volition.  You stir rancor on your blog, you create dissension in your 
church and in the larger Reformed Christian world, and you delight in 
stirring the manure with a big old stick.  You are a controversial 
public figure; so am I.  I'd welcome you to the club, but you ought to 
be welcoming me.  I'm much, much younger than you are.

In short, if you don't like the heat, don't harrow hell.  I would argue 
that Doug's theology is only a small part of the rancor he generates in 
the larger community.  Who, apart from Kirkers and ex-Kirkers, really 
cares what Doug Wilson believes?  God knows I don't.  While it might be 
fun (of a strange and esoteric sort) to debate paedo-communion, I don't 
give a toss about the principles involved.  What gets my dander up is 
the fact that in Moscow, there's one rule for the well-connected, and 
another for the rest of us.  Doug Wilson is well connected.  When he 
violates zoning code over and over and over again, the city bends over 
backwards to accommodate him.  Joel Plaskon granted New St. Andrews 
College an occupancy permit, despite the fact that educational 
institutions were clearly and explicitly prohibited in the Central 
Business District.  When that decision was found to be in error, the 
previous City Council rewrote the code to create a special spot zone 
for Doug Wilson.  Compare this to Plaskon's treatment of Rob Davis and 
Brenda von Wandruska at last Monday night's Planning and Zoning 
hearing.  Good grief.

To paraphrase Bob Dylan, how many cock-ups must one man make, before 
the city buys him a farewell cake from Rosauer's?

Joan Opyr/Auntie Establishment
www.joanopyr.com

PS: Perhaps the city needs a chart: ass, elbow, ass, elbow . . .
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