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incandescensThe problem with spending most of the day checking "failed" submissions for the upcoming classification revision is that said failed submissions were generally the easy fails, which we're getting out of the way to clear the air, while researching the more complex stuff. This means that most of them were obvious, stupid, or both.
Spending most of a day checking stupid stuff is the sort of thing that has me staring at the ceiling and muttering that I'm losing my faith in humanity. Rereading one of the BOFH books didn't help matters, as it had me daydreaming about therapeutic doses of electricity to the worse offenders.
Meeting tomorrow to go through those items and sign them off. I agree on almost all of them, so hopefully it won't take too long.
Need to do more knitting. I've been slipping.
---
Reading an Anthology of Chinese Poems of the Sung Dynasty, I Pause To Admire the Length and Clarity of Their Titles
It seems these poets have nothing
up their ample sleeves
they turn over so many cards so early,
telling us before the first line
whether it is wet or dry,
night or day, the season the man is standing in,
even how much he has had to drink.
Maybe it is autumn and he is looking at a sparrow.
Maybe it is snowing on a town with a beautiful name.
"Viewing Peonies at the Temple of Good Fortune
on a Cloudy Afternoon" is one of Sun Tung Po's.
"Dipping Water from the River and Simmering Tea"
is another one, or just
"On a Boat, Awake at Night."
And Lu Yu takes the simple rice cake with
"In a Boat on a Summer Evening
I Heard the Cry of a Waterbird.
It Was Very Sad and Seemed To Be Saying
My Woman Is Cruel--Moved, I Wrote This Poem."
There is no iron turnstile to push against here
as with headings like "Vortex on a String,"
"The Horn of Neurosis," or whatever.
No confusingly inscribed welcome mat to puzzle over.
Instead, "I Walk Out on a Summer Morning
to the Sound of Birds and a Waterfall"
is a beaded curtain brushing over my shoulders.
And "Ten Days of Spring Rain Have Kept Me Indoors"
is a servant who shows me into the room
where a poet with a thin beard
is sitting on a mat with a jug of wine
whispering something about clouds and cold wind,
about sickness and the loss of friends.
How easy he has made it for me to enter here,
to sit down in a corner,
cross my legs like his, and listen.
-- Billy Collins
Spending most of a day checking stupid stuff is the sort of thing that has me staring at the ceiling and muttering that I'm losing my faith in humanity. Rereading one of the BOFH books didn't help matters, as it had me daydreaming about therapeutic doses of electricity to the worse offenders.
Meeting tomorrow to go through those items and sign them off. I agree on almost all of them, so hopefully it won't take too long.
Need to do more knitting. I've been slipping.
---
Reading an Anthology of Chinese Poems of the Sung Dynasty, I Pause To Admire the Length and Clarity of Their Titles
It seems these poets have nothing
up their ample sleeves
they turn over so many cards so early,
telling us before the first line
whether it is wet or dry,
night or day, the season the man is standing in,
even how much he has had to drink.
Maybe it is autumn and he is looking at a sparrow.
Maybe it is snowing on a town with a beautiful name.
"Viewing Peonies at the Temple of Good Fortune
on a Cloudy Afternoon" is one of Sun Tung Po's.
"Dipping Water from the River and Simmering Tea"
is another one, or just
"On a Boat, Awake at Night."
And Lu Yu takes the simple rice cake with
"In a Boat on a Summer Evening
I Heard the Cry of a Waterbird.
It Was Very Sad and Seemed To Be Saying
My Woman Is Cruel--Moved, I Wrote This Poem."
There is no iron turnstile to push against here
as with headings like "Vortex on a String,"
"The Horn of Neurosis," or whatever.
No confusingly inscribed welcome mat to puzzle over.
Instead, "I Walk Out on a Summer Morning
to the Sound of Birds and a Waterfall"
is a beaded curtain brushing over my shoulders.
And "Ten Days of Spring Rain Have Kept Me Indoors"
is a servant who shows me into the room
where a poet with a thin beard
is sitting on a mat with a jug of wine
whispering something about clouds and cold wind,
about sickness and the loss of friends.
How easy he has made it for me to enter here,
to sit down in a corner,
cross my legs like his, and listen.
-- Billy Collins
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no subject
Date: 2008-04-24 05:52 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-04-24 08:45 am (UTC)The wine becomes more important as your city grows -- you'll need it to keep the peons happy.
no subject
Date: 2008-04-25 02:42 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-04-25 09:43 am (UTC)I have a main city on Vociios (55:67), Yu-Shan: a colony on Balios (56:67), Mount Meru: and a colony on Onyos (57:67), An-Teng. Let me know when you have embassies and can ally!
no subject
Date: 2008-04-24 05:53 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-04-24 08:45 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-04-24 02:22 pm (UTC)I do like when they're translated into English in their entirety though, they acquire a marvellous flavour which (to my discredit) I tend to gloss over in the Chinese.
no subject
Date: 2008-04-24 03:01 pm (UTC)