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Show Acting Alone Page 279 she was not able like a Musilm simply to dial some passage in scripture that would automatically pre-ascertain the moral value of any coming experience. She talked on in a soothing voice, presumably for the professor's sake. But she sensed that her face was wearing an involuntary mask of beatitude, for her own sake as well as his. He was actually staring as in blissful rapture at her flawed silver locket now. She chose to intone a litany of the good issues she'd be addressing in our nation's capital tonight and tomorrow and the day after. Good, solid social issues, no matter what tone expressed in, no matter what motivation pursued under, carry their own intrinsic value with them. Political activism constituted the only really infallible salvation Sister Polycarpana had ever found - though she would never, ever admit that to any of her coreligionists. "We will talk to Senator Nimrod and his colleagues about Reaganomics' killing effect on foodstamps, about MX and nuclear reactors, and the landbank, which is intended to help preserve the family farm from huge corporations. And, of course, much of our Network's energy will be devoted to discussing the defense budget and the arms race." She tried not to increase her decibels and pound the seat-arm between them in the melodramatic style of Father Wagstaff Bopp belting out one of his so-called "secular homilies." But she couldn't help indulging in an occasional bit of the prettiments of golden oratory, because the professor was staring at her in his moments of lucidity with such adoration. Was she teasing him? Was she behaving like Shanny now? |
