Arthur Seldon has died at age 89.

... the institute [the Institute of Economic Affairs, which Mr. Seldon helped found & guide -- R.] helped change the nature of Britain's national conservation, as it also oversaw the proliferation of more than 100 similar institutions to nearly 80 countries.

This effort was greatly aided by Mr. Seldon's ability to translate complex economic ideas into clear English. He did this both as an editor of all the institute's publications, more than 350, and as the author of 28 books and some 230 articles.

His trenchant phrasemaking became famous, as in this criticism of socialist economies for providing less choice: "Socialism is a vast machine for churning out piles of goods marked 'Take it or leave it.' "

Thank you, Mr. Seldon, for helping Margaret Thatcher crush the windpipe of British socialism under one well-heeled pump.

Rain

I opened my eyes
And looked up at the rain,
And it dripped in my head
And flowed into my brain,
And all that I hear as I lie in my bed
Is the slishity-slosh of the rain in my head.

I step very softly,
I walk very slow,
I can't do a handstand--
I might overflow,
So pardon the wild crazy thing I just said--
I'm just not the same since there's rain in my head.

-- Shel Silverstein

weather report

I should be doing some work but I'm not.
I am watching It's the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown!
Outside: rainy & cold.
Today I turned on the heat, not because we really need it yet, but I like the burning dust smell.

"Hey Charlie Brown, I have a football...I'll hold it steady."

(I'm pretty sure she means it this time.)

Thursday, so a busy evening is planned: hot tea and Markham's History of France (currently reading ca. 1137 and Louis VII), then walk through raindripping leaves for pints (it comes in pints?) and celtic music at the basement behind Table 9. Royksopp and Ani and Louis Prima (it works) in the meantime.

Bruce has been painting the mountain better than I can write it.

Latents

Just the hints, say
the side ridges of
fingerprints that
don't rule out
innocence; or
the loose approaches
to tightening mazes;
ambiguous, smudgy
places. The dilation
dark absorbs; the
thing we don't
think through
before it happens:
all the early
stations of desire —
the first slight tug
against the string
that threads the
wire that threads
the cable that
guys the bridge
that alien traffic
plies.

-- Kay Ryan

this won't be fair, and memory wanders, but:

This night five years ago we went to the worst Kol Nidre services in existence at USF, sat through expansion plans and money-grubbing and you complained your way home. Folding chairs, bright lights. The next day I biked through grey mid-morning to the Hillel house apartment. We hung around in jeans and talked fasting and food and movies and how Jews can indeed be atheists (a shock to our returnee from all-morning shul), played word games until Rachel complained of being left out (she grew up not writing on holidays), and as the afternoon drowsed on I leaned on your knee and sighed. So we got out and into your car before the sun set, off to get bagels and non-neon lox and get the Excellence ready for break-the-fast guests. Did I stay that night or did you drive me home? I don't remember. Was Tara there or was that Rosh Hashana, or both, or later? I don't remember that either. But tomorrow afternoon I will see the sun shining through your windshield on Fowler avenue and feel you squeeze my hand, just for a moment, and remember.

An easy fast, my dear. I miss you.

Love Song for T.

The moss makes soft green bumps along the shore
like when I had hives on my butt
soft pink slightly raised circles
and the doctor said........."Looks like an allergy,
go home and sit down and try to think of all
the new things that have come into your life
in the last few days,.........you're probably allergic
to one of them".........and it was the day after the
first afternoon I had made love with you
& I thought.........Oh No!

-- Maureen Owen

Rain, rain, rain.