Go, Lovely Rose

Go, Lovely Rose
by Edmund Waller

Go, lovely rose,
Tell her that wastes her time and me,
That now she knows,
When I resemble her to thee,
How sweet and fair
She seems to be.

Tell her that's young,
And shuns to have her graces spied,
That hadst thou sprung
In deserts where no men abide,
Thou must have uncommended died.

Small is the worth
Of beauty from the light retired:
Bid her come forth,
Suffer herself to be desired,
And not blush
So to be admired.

Then die that she
The common fate of all things rare
May read in thee;
How small a part of time they share
That are so wonderous
Sweet and fair.

About a month too late. Mostly basking in the memory of the gorgeous setting by Halsey Stevens of these words sung by the Lafayette Chamber Singers nearer to the correct date. How could anyone say no to such wordcraft? It's certainly not your typical barroom "line."

Pondering cancer

This last Thursday, some friends of mine found out that their 12-year old daughter has Stage 4 neuroblastoma.  It's a nerve-originated cancer that metatisizes quickly throughout the body.  In this little girl's case, the cancer is in her bones and has caused tumors to pop up in her lungs, her hip bones, and most awfully, her spine.  Because the parents do not have insurance, her 9 months of headaches, stomach illness, and lack of feeling in her legs and limbs were not treated properly.  It was only after she could no longer walk was she admitted to Peyton Manning Children's hospital, where she underwent surgery to remove most of the tumor pressing on her spine.  Her prognosis is not good, but chemotherapy and possibly stem cell blood replacement is still being suggested to combat this rare cancer.  All of this treatment will likely bankrupt the parents.

Although I barely know this little girl and rarely see her parents, I spent most of the weekend thinking about them.  On Friday, a friend of the family and I visited this little girl after she had had a bone marrow aspiration (think a big needle being inserted directly into your bones), so she was not in the best mood. :)  I can only imagine.  The hospital is very nice and welcoming, but there really isn't anywhere to escape the sadness of the kids in that place, despite the best effort of the wacky nurses and colorful flowers on the wall. 

On Friday, I also found out that two of my other friends lost much-loved pets earlier in the week. 

So, not a happy weekend.  And I mostly feel fragile thinking about it. 

E-books in Libraries? Not if HarperCollins has anything to do with it!

There's been a flurry of e-mails on the SLIS list about a new e-book policy of HarperCollins being pushed through their e-book vendor, Overdrive Books.   Here's an article on it from Publishers Weekly and some hot, steaming writer's vitriol about it from Cory Doctorow on BoingBoing.net. 

The furor, in case you didn't want to read the above links, is over the fact that, unlike most publishers, HarperCollins will sell libraries e-books to "loan" out to patrons.  Unfortunately, the deal with the devil is that libraries' license for the e-book ends after 26 loans or one year.  After that, the libraries must re-purchase the license.  For librarians grappling with shrinking collections budgets and the growing demand of their patrons for online materials access, it's got to seem like a real Catch-22. 

I really have nothing new to say about this issue, because after only a week of the knowledge of this new policy, librarian and author reactions have been loud and many.  This event, though, does drive home how important it is that I pay attention in my Information Policy class, and how sad it is that my class only has 7 people in it.  This sort of issue is not going to go away, especially as the Digital Rights Management Act matures and reacts.  Complicating the issue are new copyleft licenses (like Creative Commons) that would not go through a traditional publisher, but might come through the libraries as loanable items.

It's all kind of fascinating, really.  

Fishy existence?

I have a feeling that people will eventually ask me the origins of my blog title, "The Language of fishes." Well, it's definitely not literary - at least not what I've been able to find on Google. And if you can't find it on Google, it just isn't worth finding, right? *wink*

Actually, the phrase has no lofty origins, just a random set of words that popped into my head. It reminded me of the Paul Simon song "The Myth of Fingerprints," for some unknown reason (mostly because the song has this Caribbean sound to it and the titles have a similar poetic cadence). 

But the more I think on it, I guess I could CREATE an origin.  One could say that the "language of fishes" is a one based on behavior, rather than sound.  It's mysterious and reactive to environmental stimuli.  It wouldn't be too far of a reach to say that I often feel this way: exploring a new place, soundless and wide-eyed,  pushed along by environmental currents much greater than I can comprehend.   Being a graduate student in the midst of changing careers will do this to anyone, I think. :)

Or I could say that I picked up on the vibe given off by my favorite blog, Library Babel Fish.  The big picture of the fish in the blog's header probably didn't hurt, either. :)

Hello world!

How are you doing?