More
nonsense in the News this morning;
my
last morning. I start my job tomorrow. So I read there are unscheduled
elections now in several states to replace representatives who suddenly
died
while serving in the Nation’s Legislature. The Founders’ True Militia
wrote
another law called the ‘Heritage Service Act.’ The act holds that dead
people
would be the most reliable representatives, and, anyway, since the
people they
were to replace died in office it was only fair that their replacements
also be
dead. The local Morals and Goodness Party
agreed. So some states were able to elect dead people. The High Court
is
silent. There are technical problems that have to be solved before this
will
work. And so on.
[We
have been gaining a
better understanding of the politics in Willson’s country based on our
research
after seeing the actual name of a political party. We find that the
important
political contests for The Nation are struggles within this one major
political
party, The Morals and Goodness Party.
The likely contest for President between Brightly Dawn and Fightin’
Bubba is
actually a contest for the nomination of The
Morals and Goodness Party. Yes there is an opposition party, The Hope Party. They also present
candidates for President and other offices, but they seldom win on a
national
level. They are only strong in some areas like Greater, The Bay, Rain
North and
the other north-western states, and in some sections of New World.
Editors.]
I
think that my recent experiences need new words I would add to my Dictionary. I will go back in the
Library some time to work on those.
When
I left the Library this time I looked out the door opening first to be
sure I
could get across the courtyard to the gate without seeing anyone who
could stop
me again on to my hike in the Black Mountains. I get out to the car
quickly,
drive away and find a parking place near the gate into the Wilderness.
I have
to walk down to the bridge that goes over the stream and then up the
steep
trail on the other side. I don’t like walking downhill. There is a
table set up
just before the bridge and I see that it is for the yearly ‘Pink Trees
Hike for
Voting.’ I see the red headed woman I think just leaving from in front
of the
table. She pulls on a t-shirt and starts running across the bridge and
turns running
up the trail on the other side. The women at the table are wearing
samples of
the t-shirts they are selling, the same the red headed woman has on.
The white
t-shirts have pink lettering and a Pink Trees logo. They say ‘Hike for
Voting.’
I buy one and pull
it on. Some of the
women smile, others look at me suspiciously. One thanks me and says “we
want
The Nation to ‘have a conversation’ about women voting.” I can’t think
of
anything to say to that so I leave and walk across the bridge listening
to the
stream passing under.
I
start up the trail certainly not running. On past the sign at the other
side of
the bridge, No Hover Disks Allowed on
Hiking Trail. I don’t like walking uphill much either. The
first fifteen or
twenty minutes are torture. After that I know I will make it to the
first bench;
by then I am used to it. ‘Start a conversation?’ I have never
understood that.
They have been talking for years. The problem they are trying to solve
is to
convince women to vote, not talk. As I get higher I see the pink trees
scattered
through the other trees down below. Some trees turn pink for a month or
so, a
good time to hike. They contrast with the mostly yellow trees with the
green
tint that seem to put out their own light. The arguments I have heard
against
the women voting, ‘if they voted differently it would upset the order
of
society (upset what; dead people in Office, chicken sandwiches?); if
they voted
the same it would be unnecessary.’ I go higher. There are different
flowers at
different times of the year at different elevations along the trail.
These are
jewels on the Black Mountains. Some flowers gold, or shades of purple,
or pink,
or blue, or orange. Or shades of yellow, or the small white ones. Big
and small
flowers, some with pedals that grow out and form a circle, some bell
shaped,
some long slim bell shaped, others with pedals that open and close. And
during
the cold times no flowers at all.
The
sun is bright today. It makes the stream down below look like quicksilver; it reflects off the ocean
far at the horizon. You can’t see the ocean from up here unless the sun
shows
it to you. A pink bronze ocean sometimes; a bright reflecting silver
gold ocean
other times. I am always happy I come here after I get this far up
above. Today
that will be a two thirds way to the top to Inspiration Park. I stop at
the third
bench up at the edge of the trail and sit for a while and look at the
wide
horizon over Greater. I hear someone running back down behind me and
turn my
head and see that it is the red headed woman. She stops and looks at
me. I quickly
turn my head back and think for a moment and decide to say something.
As I stand
and turn I see that she had started running back down. I sit again
annoyed with
myself. When will you learn Willson. I think of the black cat jumping
to catch
the moving red woman on the wall. I could fall asleep here, so I better
start
back.
[We
the editors and
translators of Willson’s Journal
were
stunned, and that is not a powerful enough word, when we discovered
that
probably a majority of women in Willson’s country, The Nation, do not
vote! We apologize
that we did not
mention this earlier in our descriptions of this society but it seems
that this
is so understood and is a part that it is not only not mentioned, but
doesn’t
have to be mentioned. Apparently there is no law against women voting.
They
just don’t. This is not easy to explain. If they try to register in
most places
they are met by a group of other women that won’t let them near the
registration clerks. They are shouted at and called un-womanly. If they
do get
near a Voter Registration Clerk the Clerk leaves until they do. The Law
Courts
will not interfere because they ‘respect local customs.’
Women
do vote in Old
World – used as reason for decadence, loose morals, etc. No one at all votes in The
Celestial – seen
as getting in the way of work and productivity.
And used as a good example by reactionaries in The Nation.
And
women have the vote
in Aca Nada and Sonora. Tourists from The Nation, especially apparently
the
more stupid of these, constantly ridicule the local populations there
about
this while visiting.
The
Mayor of The Bay
several years back started aggressively registering women to vote. He
had the
police stop any groups from intimidating women who sought to register.
The
reaction from around The Nation was swift and merciless. There were
economic
reprisals. The Nation’s Legislature refused to recognize
representatives
elected from The Bay citing ‘voter fraud.’
In the areas north of The Bay, Far North, Rain North women
in fact vote
because the actual government are a collection of local councils. The
Councils
decide who runs for the state legislatures and direct the
representatives on
how to vote on most legislation. The clerks there will register women,
but some
women still don’t bother.]
(To
be
Continued)
Contents