"It's the Arab economy, stupid (well, partly, at least)"

From the The Globe and Mail:

"It's the Arab economy, stupid (well, partly, at least)"
By RAMI KHOURI
Thursday, March 6, 2003 - Page A17

Economics may not always fully drive politics, but it sure plays a large role. New data on the Arab economic condition offers ugly reminders of this. The data is from an annual publication called the Unified Arab Economic Report, published jointly with the Arab Monetary Fund, the Arab Fund for Economic and Social Development, and the Organization of Arab Petroleum Exporting Countries. The latest issue (for 2001) reveals significant trends that are worrying for Arab economies and people.

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A Poem Read By Dr. Furlong

"Sui Diao Ge Tou"
Since when did the bright moon begin to shine?
With a cup of wine in hand I ask the deep blue sky,
I wonder what day it is tonight in heaven.
I long to ride back with the wind,
But fear that the crystal halls and jade mansions
Would be too cold on high.
Rising to dance and frolic with my clear shadow
How is it comparable with earthly joy?

Around the vermilion chamber,
Past the painted window,
The moon shines on the sleepless one.
The moon should have no ill feeling:
Why is it always full when men are separated?
Men have their joys and sorrows, their meetings and partings.
The moon has its bright and dim moments, its waxing and waning.
Since time began there has never been lasting perfection.
I only wish that we could both be healthy and well,
To share the sight of this fair beauty thousands of miles apart.

--by Su Shih, 11th century Chinese poet; translated by Daniella Qin

Archibald MacLeish, "Ars Poetica" (1926)

A poem should be palpable and mute
As a globed fruit,

Dumb
As old medallions to the thumb,

Silent as the sleeve-worn stone
Of casement ledges where the moss has grown--

A poem should be wordless
As the flight of birds.

*

A poem should be motionless in time
As the moon climbs,

Leaving, as the moon releases
Twig by twig the night-entangled trees,

Leaving, as the moon behind the winter leaves,
Memory by memory the mind--

A poem should be motionless in time
As the moon climbs.

*

A poem should be equal to:
Not true.

For all the history of grief
An empty doorway and a maple leaf.

For love
The leaning grasses and two lights above the sea--

A poem should not mean
But be.

Coming Together

Everything's working nicely.

I managed to finish my ENG 493 portfolio for this afternoon, at least well enough for it to need only minor revisions for submission next Thursday. The class discussion--on book clubs and public figures, and the ways that they mold popular tastes--afterwards was also good.

Graduate school: While the portfolios were on display, I talked to Richard Lemm. The offer from Queen's might not be a contract, but it's been made and confirmed twice and I have an E-mail as proof. It's as good as a contract. So, barring horrible luck, I don't have to worry about Queen's. Which is, well, wonderful. (I've also received formal confirmation from MUN.)

And I finished my Honours today! I still have to write a conclusion, but nonetheless it's all basically done, with Atwood's Surfacing being tied up. Some, hmm, 50 pages--55 with the conclusion. Just minor revisions and I'll only have to present it and I'll be done.

And now: The Buffy "Band Candy" episode is on now, and the new Angel (ah, Angelus on the loose) will be on in 20 minutes.

I'm happy. :-D