Dabbling into Dickens

Everyone knows the heart-gripping, painful conclusion of Tale of Two Cities. And everyone, of course, knows this is one of my favorite and most revered chapters in the narrow sphere of secular literature that I can ever recall reading. Here's a snippet:

I see that I hold a sanctuary in their hearts, and in the hearts of their descendants, generations hence. I see her, an old woman, weeping for me on the anniversary of this day. I see her and her husband, their course done, lying side by side in their last earthly bed, and I know that each was not more honoured and held sacred in the other's soul, than I was in the souls of both...It is a far, far better thing that I do, than I have ever done; it is a far, far better rest that I go to than I have ever known.

These to me are perhaps the most powerful lyrics of the entire piece. Yet they pale, fade, wither, etc. when compared to a single phrase uttered by Jesus on the cross, "Eloi, Eloi, lama sabachthani? which is interpreted, My God, My God, why have You forsaken Me?" Here is the ultimate sacrifice, the ultimate price, for behind it we find the most meaningful purpose of all creation. Perhaps this is where Dicken's novel is so touching; here, where it climaxes with asymptotic approach the ultimate sacrifice ever known to mankind.

And then we have the classic, epic, (and potentially hackneyed) opening stanza to this book, in which Dickens poetically recounts in the most superfluous fashion:

It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness, it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity, it was the season of Light, it was the season of Darkness, it was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair, we had everything before us, we had nothing before us, we were all going direct to Heaven, we were all going direct the other way -- in short, the period was so far like the present period, that some of its noisiest authorities insisted on its being received, for good or for evil, in the superlative degree of comparison only.

Here it seems as if Dickens was gathering some inspiration from Paul's testimony in 2 Corinthians 6:9-11, where the apostle describes a life of ministry as one who is being poured out on behalf of the souls of those for whom he labored. Where in other places the apostle describes the new covenant ministry (4:1, etc), here he portrays the living of the new covenant ministers:

As unknown and yet well known; as dying and yet behold we live; as being disciplined and yet not being put to death; As made sorrowful yet always rejoicing; as poor yet enriching many; as having nothing and yet possessing all things. Our mouth is opened to you, Corinthians; our heart is enlarged. 

For all the verbosity that is Charles Dickens, what I most appreciate about this chapter is his narrative personification (de rigueur?) of Fate and Death, the Woodman and the Farmer. The harbingers of revolution are bustling about, but they work unceasingly; they work silently. And it is this tantalizing art that makes A Tale of Two Cities into such a classic. So we end here tonight, with an excerpt from what now happens to be my favorite chapter in English literature:

It is likely enough that, rooted in the woods of France and Norway, there were growing trees, when that sufferer was put to death, already marked by the Woodman, Fate, to come down and be sawn into boards, to make a certain movable framework with a sack and a knife in it, terrible in history. It is likely enough that in the rough outhouses of some tillers of the heavy lands adjacent to Paris, there were sheltered from the weather that very day, rude carts, bespattered with rustic mire, snuffed about by pigs, and roosted in by poultry, which the Farmer, Death, had already set apart to be his tumbrels of the Revolution. But that Woodman and that Farmer, though they work unceasingly, work silently, and no one heard them as they went about with muffled tread: the rather, forasmuch as to entertain any suspicion that they were awake, was to be atheistical and traitorous. 

more dabblings

All things considered, I regard myself among more frugal sort of people. Penurious, if you will. But there are a few items, I have decided, for which such frugality receives a particular pardon. These are the must-haves of life - the items for which quality demands no exception. I would rather live on ramen noodles and have an these essential luxuries than sacrifice them to afford to eat better food, like hamburgers. Here are two examples:

Coffee
Sometimes I buy coffee roasted by Greyfriar's. You can find it at Cups Coffee. Buying my coffee pre-ground and then taking it home to Mr. Coffee was the routine, but I recently was enlightened to the terrible error of my ways. I purchased a coffee grinder, and a nice awesomely large coffee mug. Additionally, have been buying spring water which tastes better than regular tap water; there's a discernible difference. Hence, a new chapter in my coffee-consuming career has begun. I simply cannot wait to wake up tomorrow and brew a quality cup of Joe.

Ice cream
Haagan-Dazs, no questions asked. Unless you're buying for a group or party - then it doesn't really matter. You simply cannot compromise when it comes to ice cream, period. And as a matter of opinion, White Chocolate Raspberry Truffle is creme de la creme. Although, a few items receive honorable mention: Banana Pudding from Blue Bell, the Chocolate Trinity from Publix, and a particular Breyers flavor that slips my mind for the time being - it does exist.

Pie Jesu Domine, dona eis requiem.
Dona eis requiem sempiternam.

flibbertigibbet - word of the week

Here I sit. My feet are cold from the hardwood floor. I listen, almost ostentatiously to Bach's cello suite no.1 humming into my headphones. The book I'm reading is nearly finished. It's over 500 pages. My next book should be rather different. Something like Gogol or Tolstoy. Maybe an autobiography would be nice. I would like to ask for recommendations, but my inbox is already flooded with fan mail from well-wishers and busy-body bloggers, I simply don't have time to sort through hundreds of opinionated emails from zealous readers about what book to read next. So, I'll just have to decide of my own accord.

Recently at dinner dad made an interesting announcement. After some (questionable) research, he has concluded that our surname is Jewish. We immediately determined that he has been watching too much Fiddler on the Roof, and then Stephen piped, "Well Dad if we're Jewish you owe me bar mitzvah money." That seems to have settled the discussion. I'm indifferent. First we were Scottish, then Swedish, now we're Jewish. What's tomorrow?

Tonight I'm not planning to sleep much. There are some issues that demand resolution, and today I received notice that the "Admissions Committee has recommended you for admission for the MAcc Program at the University of Georgia." Graduate school, it formerly seemed to be foreign, daunting, distant, uninviting. Now I'm accepted and it seems like just another step down this long wearisome road. The novelty of it is inarticulately fleeting. It's a huge relief, honestly.

Darwin was a Capitalist

Allowing Lehman to fail was perhaps the smartest thing Hank Paulson has done this year. Like other investment banks, Lehman was highly leveraged and had gorged itself on toxic assets. When any firm is leveraged at 30 to 1 and asset values drop, they quickly become insolvent. And insolvency, if you were wondering, is not good.

Blame is easy to spread around, and excuses come cheap in Washington. Maybe FAS 157 is the culprit, banking regulations were too weak; perhaps aliens interfered. The point of the matter is that poorly-run businesses need to fail.

Fast forward a few months and we have $700 billion sitting at Hank’s fingertips. They call it the Troubled Asset Relief Program, or TARP. That money may be able to free up the credit markets, revive the economy, and save the world – but only time will tell.

Eager to exploit the benevolence of American taxpayers, Detroit auto executives are now sprinting, palms-outstretched, to Washington with hopes to claim some of the TARP funding. Detroit, by the way, is home to General Motors, Ford, and Chrysler.

While the financial crisis undoubtedly has affected American automakers, their issues go far beyond credit and the economy, and taxpayers should be concerned by any political movement to place Detroit on welfare.

Congress passed a $25 billion loan package for automakers in September; apparently that wasn’t enough. Now Democrats are working to grant another $25 billion of aid for the “Big Three.” But throwing money at our auto industry is not a solution.

Regardless how the economy is doing, General Motors cannot stay competitive. Their stock, for example, has been in decline for the past eight years. The sad truth is that our auto industry is crippled.

Detroit automakers have allowed unions too much power. And perpetuated by misguided government policies, unions workers have strangled their employers to the point of extinction.

Should the government step in to save this ailing industry? No, unfortunately it's too late. The course of evolution requires that Detroit become part of history. New companies have evolved - stronger and better equipped for the 21st century.

As Darwin would say, it's natural selection. "Survival of the fittest." Let capital be efficient, let the markets adjust our economy. It's going to happen, eventually.

Happy Birthday!!!

It's really hard
We heard her say
To change your diapers
everyday
Do the laundry
Clean those clothes
Wash the dishes
Let's hope she knows
How much we care
Her love it shows
This one is rare
And we're so proud
Congrats, we cheer
And well done boys...

We raised a good mom!




Happy Birthday Mother.

Stories from another universe

My desk is always a mess. The clutter is unbearable and usually spills over onto the floor area surrounding me. And as if the papers and books weren't bad enough, I also have this nasty tendency to horde dishes on my desk. Every once in a while we run out of cups or bowls and I have to make several trips to my room to recover those items.

Maybe this is an indicator that I need "training." Yes, that thing. I don't know. Just a few minutes ago I noticed that gallon of milk sitting on my desk for - well I'm not sure how long. It was from the cereal. The cereal. I remember now; there had been already a bowl (and cups and plates for that matter) on my desk, so I ran to the kitchen to bring cereal and milk.

Milk shouldn't be left on my desk over night. I put it back.

Overheard in Atlanta

From my balcony I observe some interesting things. Sure, the view is amazing. Looking down at the streets you can see the bums wandering around, sauntering back and forth in bitter rage. At night you can hear them singing, fighting, and snoring?

Right now they're yelling. I'm sitting out here, and a young punk is causing a riot. Six are within sight, mostly older men. By the volume of their voices and the swagger in their walk I'd say two of themare wildly intoxicated. The young guy has a packpack on; he slurs rapidly and walks withan artificial limp; the "street-hardened thug walk." He doesn't belong out here.

My friend Mitch is usually down there, but I know he's nowhere around. He wouldn't get mixed up with those guys anyhow. But if he were around I'd know right away; I'd be able to hear him. Mitch is the neighborhood street performer. On the corner of Ponce and Peachtree he plays the trumpet until late into the night. The yelling has ceased; now only the cars are audible. An occasional horn, siren, the wind.

Mitch plays dutifully, skipping rapidly from tune to tune. He'll never plays a song as it was written - each time he plays it a little different. Mitch will tell you that he just plays whats on his heart, which means changing the rendition. But I suspect he'd have trouble playing a peice perfectly - without changing a few notes. But who cares if he hits every note? He plays with a lively vivacity of soul that is encouraging, and entertaing.

Even talking to Mitch is enjoyable. If you walk by and say hi, he'll play anything you like. He'll never point or look at his money jar. But instead he talks about the music. He rarely talks about his situation; though I've been able to draw it out a few times. He loves the music - he could probably teach a class on jazz, or the blues...

Ethiopian Yirgacheffe

Not having a car is less miserable than one might imagine. At least in Athens. Today I biked to my favorite coffee shop, Cups Coffee, and studied there a bit before proceeding to my home meeting...ON MY BIKE!!!!

Yes, that was gratifying. Its dangerous, especially riding after sunset. To an alarming extent, I enjoy the thrill of it biking 25mph (a speeding radar sign thing clocked me today), but risks are offset by the fact that I'm being environmentally-conscious; such a deep concern to me.

Today I caved and bought the Ethiopian Yirgacheffe, named I believe after the city where it comes from. It was expensive, and chosen at random. Not all coffee tastes the same, but I don't have the experience to differentiate. So its basically pointless to try to evaluate my tastes when my experience in this world of fresh coffee is so limited. Tomorrow at 5:30am though...we'll find out what it means to drink coffee. And it should be good, since the status quo for the last 2 weeks has been Folgers. I'm about ready to dump that crap in the trash - its bland and if there is such a thing as synthetic coffee grinds...they embody it. Well I'm off. Waking up early requires you go to bed before 2am, a plan I'm at risk of compromising. Cheerio!

Memphis Basketball

The NCAA Championship was played just a few nights back, and as far as I'm concerned the Tigers won. Maybe they didn't win on the scoreboard, but they played their hearts out, and won ours. In a compelling bid for the national title, they captured our emotions and took us for an unforgettable (though we try) ride, culminating in a horrifying, cataclysmic ending. But who cares about that score? CDR showed character and heart, playing with humble prowess and his "little ole man tricks." Dozier played hard and had impact. Anderson nailed some beautiful 3's. Derrick Rose displayed graceful control, wooing the nation with his uncanny raw talent. Even Joey Dorsey was smiling; out there to have fun, but with dominating intensity. And who can forget that electrifying steal when he blazed past Alrich to finish with a dunk?

Despite the treacherous ending, we still love those guys. I didn't watch OT (It would have been too painful). But let's be honest, it was an exhilarating game. They showed talent and heart, and proved Memphis can compete at any level. The Tigers are no longer strangers to the NCAA tournament, they're hardened veterans, and they'll be back.

Aphorisms Compiled

"Voracious reader, competitive scrabble player, occasional artist and writer, avid chess player; hopeless romantic - is that me? In a nutshell." Weell not quite, but I like that part at least. Sounds good so far. "An easygoing socialite, tactful, resourceful; well-versed in etiquette, narcissistic." Stop! You're getting ahead of yourself there. Too presumptuous!

I'm also qualifiedly the "under-ambitious accounting student struggling to meet self-imposed standards and bring his academic destiny to fruition. With eclectic and fluid musical taste, he prefers to move rapidly through art, music, and time - ah, the avant-garde?"

"Remarkably unorganized and unashamedly candid. He blunders through complex and delicate social encounters but manages to emerge unscathed. For his ego is far too protected; much removed from these events. Chagrin escapes him, but the flourishing narcissistic-side of this humble man is ne'er tempered. He remains cerebrally self-absorbed and boldly over-confident."

International Politcal Economy

These are essays from an IPE class that I took a few years ago. I was rummaging through some papers and found them in an old folder. I guess the point here is that I'm kind of surprised that I once almost knew this stuff. If I didn't know better perhaps I would get the impression that these were written by semi-intelligent persons, rather than myself.

"Regional integration seems to be replacing GATT. With the apparent collapse of the Seattle and Doho Rounds, regionalism is stepping in to move free trade where multilateralism has stalled. Regional integration in Europe (namely, the EU) has caused a new impetus for regionalization. NAFTA and the Caribbean Basin Initiative (CBI), have had an overall positive economic affect, so it seems natural that other American nations would want to integrate.

However, geopolitical factors would present strong opposition. Venezuela, for example, may voice politically stimulated opposition to an FTAA. Also, agricutlrual or even infant industry may resist an FTAA, because their lack of comparative advantage would hurt their business if trade became freer.

Consumers, though, should universally support FTAA, assuming they understand the true dynamics of regional integration. They would have more choices as new markets open, and competition should make prices more attractive.

Industries with low factor specificity could in the long run be introduced to more technological innovations, and gradually gain a larger market share in areas where China has dominated.

Americans who calim that NAFTA has cost them jobs should realize that China actually lost more jobs between '95 and '02. In a nation such as the U.S., unemployment is mainly affected by monetary policy, not globalization. Additionally, most jobs lost are caused by increased presence of technology, not by free trade.

A FTAA can be successful if properly implemented. Many developing countries with "infant industy" could be paralyzed by trade integration if they do not follow property monetary policy. In order for FTAA to succeed in the long-run, it must be implemented gradually, giving developing countries time to adjust, prepare, and shift resources to areas wehre they have a competitive advantage regionally."

And another essay, addressing debt relief policy. And yes, I made up a word and misspelled a few others. Its becoming evident that I depend on spell-check more than I though. Anyways, these little essay things are worth typing out, to me, because I like to read old things that reflect of me at another time.

Publish PostDebt relief is not the key to worldwide development. Nor does it promote a more stable financial system. Proponents of debt relief are blinded to the political implications that affect its overall usefulness. Lottery winners rarely use their winning to invest wisely and with a view to the future. Rather, the money is spent lavishly on short-term conveniences. By the same token, rulers in developing countries are not faithful stewards of the aid. Debt relief if affected in like manner.

The IMF should reevaluate its role to worldwide development. Short term fixes rarely contribute to sustainable development. IMF money should not be used for debt relief. Instead, money should be focused on areas which will promote long-term development and stability.

Debt relief carries an impression of benevolence which looks good politically. However, few people realize the ineffectiveness of debt relief to worldwide development. Foreign aid focused on sustainable development, not debt relief, is vital to the goals and virtues of the IMF.

Developing countries should be approached on a case-by-case basis, with a view toward investment that will stimulate trade and economic activity. Leaders in developing countries will need to cooperate accordingly. This will not be easy, but with support from the OECD, developing states can be persuaded to adopt strategic trade and investment policies that will even bring added stability to the sphere of international finance.

Those who continue to receive debt relief become dependent and complacent, while lenders grow more and more frustrated at the squandry [sic] they observe. Debt fatigue will soon set in, and the developing states will find it harder to acquire money. The IMF should shift from debt relief to sustainable development. This action realigns IMF policy with its purpose; worldwide development and international financial stability.

As the weekend rolls around...

I'm glad my roommate is still alive. We were painting with oil based paints in the basement, and he decided to have a glass of milk. We had poured some paint thinner into a cup to keep our brushes from drying out, but Paul got the two cups mixed up and accidentally took a drink of the paint thinner! I looked up just as he hurled the paint thinner out of his mouth; fortunately none was swallowed. We called poison control just to be safe, and Paul was told to brush his teeth, throw away the toothbrush, and eat some ice cream.

That whole painting ordeal was quite an experience. Completely spontaneous, the idea emerged after looking at some of Alex's artwork, and our ensuing conversation about how the mind works when we're in that artistic, creative mood.

I keep thinking back to the Wall Street Journal article, "entrepreneurship 101." Why wouldn't UGA want a similar program? Heck, I'll do the legwork. http://www.collegejournal.com/careerpaths/findcareerpath/20070320-spors.html?refresh=on