June 2nd 2018


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Articles from this issue:

COVER STORY The Greens: the political equivalent of bilgewater

EDITORIAL Malaysian election sends shockwaves across South-East Asia

GENDER AND SPORT Transgender playing in women's football league gains attention

CANBERRA OBSERVED Beyond tomorrow a bridge too far for politicians to plan

ENERGY Why renewables destabilise the power grid

LAW AND FREEDOM Exemptions: at issue with Dr Zimmermann

INTERNATIONAL AFFAIRS Behind the U.S.-North Korea rapprochement

INTERNATIONAL AFFAIRS Two to tango: Where to now for U.S. and China?

LIFE ISSUES So, is this not pro-life?

POLITICS AND CULTURE The West won the world but may lose its soul

MILITARY BIOGRAPHY Commanders: the men who resolve questions of life and death

HUMOUR

MUSIC Eurovision: Wailing and gnashing of teeth

CINEMA Superhero movies: A Chestertonian consideration

BOOK REVIEW A man for all seasons and hemispheres

BOOK REVIEW Mid-century gem of Catholic fiction

POETRY

LETTERS

ECONOMICS Vatican document nails some of the causes of the GFC

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POETRY




News Weekly, June 2, 2018

The Certainty Principle

(Contra the ill-will that has produced modern philosophies)

When virtue rules, then I agree
With sure epistemology,
Then I am sound; I look and see
I’m certain, ontologically:
All is so good, I shout with glee
“Ah, natural theology!”
But, if I’m vicious, then I grow …
A sceptic, groundless, primed for woe.

 

 

Against all Intrusive Ascetics in the Teaching Church 

After two thousand years, pray be honest –
A division grows clear from the cot:
Most will find their endowment as spouses,
It is few have God’s gift to be not.

Now let those who can rise by denial
Cease constraining the spliced way to Heaven –
Even though it may gall, back away like Saint Paul:
“First Corinthians” Seven, verse seven*.

 

 

Body Language

Bethsabee slew her Hethite spouse,
   Exposing him to fall,
By bathing where the king would see
   Then coming at his call.

 

 

Nadir/Zenith 

It is night, struck beyond any known hour:
Time is dark stillness, pressing life so far,
It holds all time lived, in a penumbra
Where now I breathe alone.  Where is that power

That once blew any moment into flower?
The moon fails.  Ages here ago I saw
This moon’s light promise every weary star
She’d circle night; light, then, seemed to embower

Reality, that now seems lost to space,
Spreading forever on the dust of time,
To nothing: nothing.  But so I strike some spark,

Repeating error, and the lit, dead face
Of shrouded Jesus lives.  Death’s made sublime:
Rising, He gathered all this quiet dark.

Andrew Huntley

 

*“I wish you were all in the same state as myself; but each of us has his own endowment from God, one to live in this way, another in that.”

I Corinthians 7:7 (Knox translation).




























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April 4, 2018, 6:45 pm