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In 2019, the #BoysDanceToo movement reacted in anger to controversial, misogynistic remarks made on the television program, Good Morning America. These reactions highlighted the challenges faced by men and boys in dance. Yet, previous studies have documented significant advantages for men in dance. In an analysis of the discourse used in online posts related to the #BoysDanceToo movement, I find that these broader structural gender inequalities are generally not examined. Responses also do not interrogate the antifemininity that fuels the stigma against boys and men who dance. Analysis suggests that this is due to an overreliance on the language of sex roles—which can mask the oppression of women (as a group) by men (as a group)—and the neglect of a relational understanding of gender. As a result, women are largely erased from a conversation about gender oppression.

Good morning and welcome to the 36th Annual American Journalism Historians Association national convention. I'm Dave Vergobbi, the president this past year.I first extend my thanks to everyone invo...

Good morning. I would like to start by thanking, of course, Monica for the privilege of participating in this panel. I am certainly willing and hopefully able to present an alternative view to those that have been presented by the speakers before me.

In this brief introduction, the aims of the book are set out. It also includes some structural information about how to navigate the book. Although it avoids any historical positioning of Australia in the Eurovision Song Contest, it discusses the rise of “Eurovision Studies” scholarship in Australia, and the particular conditions that have given rise to the set of interdisciplinary scholarship published in the volume. It contextualises each chapter’s place within the wider volume. Finally, the chapter sets out the central conceit of the book: that a single-nation perspective on a multinational event can generate unique insight.

This article analyzes ancestry, war and politics in the literary works by Ondjaki, contemporary Angolan writer from the point of view of children characters of five novels: Os da minha rua, AvoDezanove e o segredo do sovietico (Grandma Nineteen and the Soviet’s secret), A bicicleta que tinha bigodes, Uma escuridao bonita and Bom dia camaradas (Good morning comrades). Ancestry in Ondjaki is portrayed according to the tradition in several African societies: ancestors remain as a part of the family and take part in its daily life, even after dying. The civil war is unveiled in a subtle and light way, including humorous features. Politics permeates the characters’ daily lives, with the presence of government forces and of foreigners (mostly Cubans and Russians) working as military, physicians and teachers in Angola. We can conclude that Ondjaki addresses these contents with great sensitivity and in a poetic way despite the complexity of such topics.

Dear Readers, I recently browsed through numerous web pages for kids on cbc.ca and much to my delight I came across an article titled “5 Books You Probably Didn’t Know Were Written by Kids.” I discovered that Alec Greven published a successful book called How to Talk to Girls when he was only nine years old. The book was published back in 2008, so Graven would be close to twenty today, but the lessons on the back cover remain relevant for today: “Comb your hair and don’t wear sweats / Control your hyperness (cut down on the sugar if you have to) / Don’t act desperate.” Graven was interviewed on several popular television shows soon after the book was published, including The Ellen DeGeneres Show, the Today show, and Good Morning America, among others, and his publication became a media sensation. Graven’s accomplishment is certainly very impressive, but I was even more astounded to read about a four-year-old named Dorothy Straight, who, according to CBC, “holds the world record for being the youngest published author.” Her book titled Who Made the World? was published in 1964 and it included her own illustrations to depict her ideas about the possibility of Creation. These extraordinary stories of kids who write and publish books make inspiring reading, which is why I mention them here in my editorial, with the hope that you will encourage the children in your life to write, not necessarily for publication, but to help them read and understand stories written by other writers. There are lots of resources available to encourage children to write, including apps, websites, writers’ groups, blogs, magazines, books, and courses, so please consider doing an online search for writing materials or visit your local library to ask for help finding free writing resources for kids. Happy reading! Robert Desmarais, Managing Editor

Many years ago, after saying good morning to me, a Dutch immigration official at Schiphol Airport in Amsterdam asked me if I had just arrived on the Aeroflot flight from Moscow. I said yes and aske...

Greetings and farewells mark the boundaries of conversations; they are often formulaic and are generally claimed to be devoid of propositional content. However, they are often embedded in longer exchanges, and within such exchanges individual expressions may or may not have propositional content. This contribution discusses some of the inherent problems of retrieving speech acts, such as greetings and farewells, from a corpus. This is illustrated with a diachronic analysis of greetings and farewells in two hundred years of American English as documented in the 400-million-word Corpus of Historical American English (COHA). In the nineteenth century, the most frequent greetings were “good morning” and “how are you?” and the most frequent leave-taking expression was farewell while in Present-day American English the expressions hi and hello dominate as greetings and goodbye and “bye bye” as leave-taking expressions. The two phrases “how do you do?” and “how are you?” serve as examples that show how formulaic and literal uses have coexisted over the entire period covered by COHA, with a shift from a predominance of literal uses to a predominance of formulaic uses, particularly in the case of “how do you do?”. However, both phrases remain ambiguous in their uses. The interactants discursively assign a more literal or more formulaic force to them.

Since the late 1930s, cinematic depictions of schooling have generally affirmed the necessity of school as a social institution and underscored the importance of formalized education for children and youth. Movies ranging fromGoodbye, Mr. Chips(1939) toDead Poets Society(1989) have represented school as a place of tradition and order, and films such asThe Corn Is Green(1945);Blackboard Jungle(1955);Good Morning, Miss Dove(1955);Up the Down Staircase(1967); andStand and Deliver(1988) have portrayed teachers as heroic figures. It could seem that the film industry has always portrayed schooling in idealistic terms. But that is not the case. This essay examines the familiar cultural genre of films about schooling, but it does so by looking backward beforeBlackboard Jungle, even beforeGoodbye, Mr. Chips, to the first four decades of cinema—a period when schooling was rendered not as a necessity, but as a joke.

Good morning, colleagues. I appreciate this annual opportunity to share a few thoughts with you as we bring this year’s amazing meeting to a successful close. Shattering all previous attendance records is rewarding affirmation that our Program Committee and all the members who bring us their

It is time now to take a look at the tales themselves. Given our fourfold division into genres, a selection of tales will pass muster in order to highlight the core of each genre with its characteristic actors, story lines, plots, and outcomes, be they etiological, moral or otherwise. In order to know about Kapsiki tales, we must get acquainted not only with the tricks of Squirrel, the dumb strength of Leopard, and the intrinsic beauty of Guinea Fowl, but also with the suspense generated by a strange woman coming into the village, with the deep virtue of the non-loved wife, and with the intrinsic wisdom of the third brother. Any story we tell is ultimately about ourselves, and the Kapsiki also tell stories about their own life, to themselves and here to us. So now we listen.

This paper studies three modern plays that rewrite Shakespeare’s texts from women’s points of view: Desdemona: A Play about a Handkerchief by Paula Vogel, Goodnight Desdemona (Good Morning Juliet) by Ann-Marie MacDonald, and Lear’s Daughters, a collaborative work of Elaine Feinstein with the Women’s Theatre Group (WTG). First of all, this study defines rewriting as the differentiated repetition with the intention of challenging historical assumptions. According as how each play makes the structural relation with the original plot, the mode of rewriting is classified into three types: the intra-textual rewriting, the inter-textual rewriting and the extra-textual rewriting. Each type shows the possibility of transforming Shakespeare’s characters and plots as well as of reinterpreting his texts from various angles. Another important strategy is the use of theatricality. A variety of staging devices are used to reconstruct the written text, allowing the freedom of encoding and decoding theatrical signs. Therefore, rewriting Shakespeare on the basis of theatricality makes it possible not only to recognize the historical sense of contemporary issues including feminist ones, but also to suggest the possibility of making changes even in real life. It is this multiplicity and changeability that these plays intend to show by rewriting Shakespeare on women’s stage.

This article considers the response of European modernism to the invention of flush toilets and public restrooms in the first decades of the twentieth century, arguing that modernist writers such as James Joyce and Jean Rhys subverted dominant attitudes toward privacy, propriety, and femininity via images of women using toilets and restrooms. It considers Ulysses and Good Morning, Midnight within the context of debates surrounding women, cleanliness, and public urban space. It also argues that modernist and avant-garde art can be characterized by its representations of dirt and excrement, for which it was often censored or banned.

In the rewriting of Shakespeare’s Desdemona and Juliet, Ann-Marie MacDonald attempts to make the genre transformation in her Goodnight Desdemona (Good Morning Juliet). In the tragedy it is typical to categorize female characters into a wicked woman or a submissive victim. In either case, they are doomed to be eventually put into the trap of tragic ending: the death. On the other hand, female characters in Shakespeare’s comedy are usually empowered with wits and wisdom like a Wise Fool. They are different from those in the tragedy who are deprived of their own voice and place by the given fate. MacDonald raises a question of why Desdemona and Juliet are suddenly changed in their characterization regardless of their intrinsic nature. They appear to be driven into the death by the supposedly fate-ordained designation even though such an ending never seems inevitable. That is why MacDonald concentrates on the intriguing vibrations between genre and gender issues in rewriting Shakespeare. In the comedic transformation Desdemona and Juliet escape from the genric restriction in their dramatic action to show their original vitality, though it is sometimes against our general expectations. In this transformative comedy, we should examine what problems are to be corrected and why such an attempt is necessary. Constance Ledbelly, the new heroine of this play, explores the significance of facing our contemporary problems by reviewing the classics from other perspectives. These three plots of Desdemona, Juliet, and Constance merge into one place where the alchemistic happy marriage of past and present, or of their problems and ours, happens in the Shakespearean setting of comedy. The so-called interpretative community is formed to approach such feminist issues not individually but socially through mutual interactions. Constance’s reworking with Shakespeare’s transformed heroines lets us know that the same tragedy as Shakespeare’s is still going on in our reality. Although Constance’s search for the original Author is a way of avoiding her tragic reality at first, it is ultimately a search for the Self through others’ similar examples. Therefore, rewriting suggests an alternative way of interpreting the original with a mirror which reflects our own life as well. That is what MacDonald intends to tell us in her rewriting of Shakespeare.

On the book tour circuit, Amy Chua's strategy has been to disavow just about everything her infamous Wall Street Journal article seemed to say. “I do not believe that Chinese mothers are superior,” she declared to Stephen Colbert. To PBS's Need to Know, she described the book's arc as revealing her “eventual transformation as a mother,” while, to Good Morning America, she insisted that she believes “people get to great places so many different ways: lenient parents, strict parents. . .”

Adrienne van Heteren recalls her time at B92 — a small radio station at the forefront of the anti-war movement during the darkest days of the Yugoslav conflict

Good morning and welcome to all of you who have gathered on this extremely proud day for Harvard Divinity School to mark the centennial celebration of the HTR, the Harvard Theological Review.

Popular American images of Italianness before and during the second world war represented Italians as an infantile, emotional and largely apolitical people whose character was marked by cowardice and unpredictable violence. Unlike the German and Japanese peoples, who, by dint of their inherent militarism or their racialized religious allegiance to their 'god-emperor', were judged complicit in the policies of their governments, Italians were presented as the hapless victims of fascism. This construction enabled the place and significance of America's war with Italy to be systematically underemphasized and, more importantly, it allowed the Allied occupation of Italy to be framed from the beginning as an exercise in humanitarian redemption. This article examines the relationship between American representations of Italianness in films, novels and the news media, and the actuality of the Allied occupation, and contrasts it with the experience of the occupations of Germany and Japan.

Time is running short! We are coming to the end of this luncheon soon. Time is running short. We are coming to the end of this conference and will soon be heading our separate ways. And time is running short for our world. Years ago I saw a New Yorker cartoon. It depicted a man awakened by his clock radio to the message, "Good morning! While you were asleep the world as you knew it ceased to exist!" At the time I was amused by it. Today I am all too aware of the truth it speaks. Time is running short! How often we find ourselves pressed for time. There simply isn't enough time. We hurry here and there trying to squeeze just a little bit more into the time we have. Yet, while time is running short, we have all the time there is. It is not the shortness of time that is the problem. It is our absence from it. The real challenge is to be present and in the time we have. So I want to invite us to be present for this time that we have. It is, after all, the very act of being present that makes all the difference.

Most of all ... the love ... was a crucial part of my childhood and I think it made me into a whole person. That, I remember, the community love. People just loved you. I mean, if you were naughty, down the road, and Aunt B., or Mrs S., saw you, she belted you. And she knew that you were Miss A.'s daughter and you were out of order. People who I pass and didn't say 'Good morning', they'd say 'Come back here, you. Did you see me?' 'Yes ma'am.' 'Why didn't you say "Good morning"?' 'I don't know, ma'am.' Wallop, wallop, wallop. 'Getting too big for your boots.' And so the community had a parenting responsibility.

Here again, that season of Hahn-the everlasting unquenched woe-is just around the corner, and I come down with the melancholy bug. I can't help it. Born of the Korean womb, I remain a child of this ancient affliction. So do, I suspect, the bulk of my fellow diasporic Koreans. Come April 29 each passing year, Sa-ee-gu mocks our unacceptable Pal' ja (fate). Korean Americans call it Sa-ee-gu (4-29 in native pronunciation) to commemorate the three days of firebombing, looting and mayhem in which they watched their American Dream go up in smoke. In my twilight year of seventy-one, I search for some clues as to why. A walk through the ashes of Sa-ee-gu wreckage is exploring our own scarred Hahnscape. Our sojourn in America as more to do with our own sojourn in our own collective psych as prisoners of Hahn in this land of freedom. Sa-ee-gu, if nothing else, was but the latest validation of our Hahn embedded in our soul through an unending series of upheavals and oppressions, foreign and domestic, for nearly a mi...

Jerome had just earned his MBA and was determined to realize his dreams, so he started his own business as a financial advisor. After long and careful screening, he had found a nice office in one of the prestigious office buildings in Main Street. He was proud of his new location and had it furnished with very expensive looking furniture. On his second day at the office, Jerome saw a man entering the lobby right outside his office, and he shot into high gear right away. He wanted to make a great first impression, so he quickly picked up the phone and started talking to a fictitious person on the other side, as if he was finalizing a lucrative deal. Jerome was throwing figures left and right and made some sharp commitments before hanging up. Then he eyed his visitor and said, “Good morning! What can I do for you today?” The man smiled wryly and said, “Eh, well, I am from the phone company. I’m here to activate your phone lines . . . ”

Certainly, Rhys matters. Since her death in 1979, after her long period of obscurity and the rush of attention following the publication of Wide Sargasso Sea in 1966, Rhys’s work has gained footholds in a number of scholarly fields. Her novels—especiallyWide Sargasso Sea and, increasingly, Good Morning, Midnight—are taught in undergraduate classrooms and graduate seminars. Her work appears in studies of modernist literature, feminist writing, and Caribbean literature; Barbadian poet Kamau Brathwaite famously called Rhys “the Helen of our wars,” signaling Rhys’s position as the instigator of and prize in the battle over the relation of Caribbean literature to the literature of Europe. Several scholarly essays on Rhys’s writing are published in academic journals each year. Reviewing the literature on Rhys in 1998—particularly in the context of the dearth of scholarship on “other major anglophone Caribbean writers”—Elaine Savory claims that because “there has been such an enormous amount of writing on her… there is a Rhys industry” (xiv). Since Savory wrote those words, there have been two international conferences dedicated to Rhys: one in Dominica in 2004, the second in London in 2010. Later, in herCambridge Introduction to Jean Rhys, Elaine Savory declares that “Rhys is now canonical” (114). Rhys’s position in literary history thus seems assured.

In a personal encounter with endometrial cancer, I needed to learn how to recover a secure sense of myself as a whole person. In my search for a pathway back to sense of personal wellness, I turned to the mythology of ancient Sumer. In particular, I turned to the myth known as the Descent of the Goddess (Wolkstein & Kramer, 1983). In this myth, Sumer’s important deity, the Goddess Inanna journeys into the underworld of death and suffering.

‘Good morning, America’ or ‘One could set one’s watch by it’ – so market observers joked around the turn of the millennium whenever they watched the gold price and once again saw that it fell shortly after the open of the COMEX in New York. This happened with such unwavering regularity that many suspected it was no coincidence. Rather, they surmised that systematic interventions against gold were behind this anomaly, which typically took place at a specific time of the day, namely during the trading hours of the most important futures market. Rumours about such interventions had been making the rounds for a long time already, at least since 1995.6 Since 1999 the Gold Anti-Trust Committee (GATA, www.gata.org), a US civil rights organisation, helped to point these interventions out. It had made it its goal to publicise them and, if possible, contribute to putting an end to them. In Figure 4.1 you can see the intraday movement of the gold price over three consecutive trading days for clarification.

The Book Launch of Easton Lee's "Encounters", Kingston, Jamaica, 8/12/2003, by REX NETTLEFORD "Good morning gentleman good morning sar how can I be of assistance how can I help you sar oh, you looking for rector. No sar, him is not here right now Tek the missis to the doctor Yes, sar, feeling sick, every morning Nothing too serious In the fambly way..." And so the character goes on in a tonally piping monologue anticipating questions, volunteering answers before those questions are asked, and chatting her boss's business to a visitor who would probably be better off not knowing. But before the visitor could decline audience he finds himself the subject of diagnosis and the recipient of a prescription for the flu he is assumed to have - a prescription complete with such homegrown remedies as ginger, garlic and ganja. And on the story goes in a breathless stream of unsolicited data that are at once amusing, amazing, and with much to contemplate as well as even to disturb as Easton Lee, the author, in his Preface prepares us to expect. The protagonist in what I read is the Cleaner from the poem of that name. It is appropriately placed at the very beginning of the collection for it captures a great many of the brightest and best features of this latest collection of poems aptly entitled Encounters. This first encounter between his Cleaner and the visiting gentleman who comes to see the rector, her employer, speaks a great deal to Easton Lee's own keen Jamaican eye and ear, his highly nuanced sense and sensibility honed in the myriad encounters he himself has experienced throughout a life which is itself the result of one of many and myriad encounters. Such are the encounters which together make his native Jamaica the textured, diverse, unpredictable, kalaediscopic entity it is, and produce the likes of us all who demand from each other the constant exercise of the creative imagination in order to cope with characters like that cleaner and all the others who emerge, poem after poem, in this quite fascinating collection. The pieces are all mediated by the social reality of this aggregation of souls we call Jamaica and reflect the tapestry with its variety of threads interweaving their way into patterns that make sense and speak to sanity. Easton Lee is himself a perfect example of this feature. The collection has two subtitles - one, "voices and echoes", the other, "poems from a Chinese Jamaican experience". They both prepare us for the range of offerings with each echo driving us back to the original sound whether in the lilt of the language used by a particular persona or the theme ferreted out of the deep-structured cultural veins of precious material which original encounters helped to shape. So we are led to feel both the orthodox Christian and syncretic energies that drive our people to baptismal waters of a Bedward or that have Sister Ann and the flock labour "body and soul in prayer and fasting/ singing and chanting/ down on the ground the faithful! fall and writhe/ catching the spirit/ groaning moaning, trumping, to hoarseness and rapture..." Call it a generational thing but it is in poems like these that someone like myself catches the spirit of a Jamaica whose rural vitality once bolstered the sturdy independence of our peasant folk and provided sustenance for a life beyond the bush that would stave off urban blight and conserve, preserve the richness of inheritances from wherever all of our ancestors might have previously come. And here the photographs by Owen Minott, Dave Reid and the poet himself not just add to the text but bring into bold relief the images on the printed page. It is that rural setting from which the best of our values and attitudes presumably came that Easton Lee, I suspect, draws so much of his inspiration to give us so many of the gems in Encounters waiting for the orality of our tradition of elocution and the sonority of the echoes to the voicings. …

" This article centers on Dominican-born Jean Rhys’s novel Good Morning, Midnight (1939). Rhys’s West Indian roots are often referenced and Anglicized both in terms of, and because of, her engagement with Charlotte Bronte’s Jane Eyre (vis-a-vis Wide Sargasso Sea). I argue that Good Morning, Midnight’s protagonist, Sasha Jensen, refracts the uniquely Caribbean experience of dislocation through the modernist aesthetic of detachment. Good Morning, Midnight is the last book in a series of four that Rhys published in a period of eleven years after World War I. The disturbingly ambiguous nature of her characters reveal the complex intersectionality of race and gender in “foreign” bodies and the ways that Rhys searched to recalibrate the discourse of colonial modernism. Jean Rhys’s fiction features disjointed, hybrid, and fractured female characters that seem to lack any type of agency, but are champions of survival. Without discounting Rhys’s seminal contribution to Caribbean women’s literature (largely through Wide Sargasso Sea), her oeuvre demands a deeper engagement. Rhys’s female protagonists refuse to comply with networks of power outside of their control. Their movement signals an implicit critique of unjust hegemonic structures (patriarchal and colonial) and foreshadows recent developments in postcolonial feminist studies. "

The trial started promptly at 10:00 am, on February 20, 2008. JUDGE BULLOCK: On the record. Good morning. We are going to be starting—with the tutorial and then probably, hopefully, we will finish that by lunch break and then go into the prehearing conference. Let’s start with appearances.

There are a number of books written about Nelson Mandela. ‘Good Morning Mr Mandela’ is a memoir that describes and takes the reader through the life journey and experiences of Zelda la Grange, a once secretary, personal/private assistant for the late, iconic legend, Nelson Mandela. On the one hand, the author explores her experiences from apartheid and post-apartheid South Africa and how Nelson Mandela played a major role in the shift of her world perception. On the other, she displays the kind of man that Madiba was through her lens; who he was, not only to her as his employer, but also to the rest of the world. Not only was this man a grandfather to his grandchildren, a father to his biological children but he was also a ‘father’ to those that were privileged to work with him but mainly a ‘father’ to the nation. The notion of social fathering is prominent with people of African descent. This is true for Africans in Africa, in the Latin and South Americas and in the diaspora [1, 2].

D uring the 1980s, Hollywood was teenagers' chief source of information about the war in Vietnam. Via their graphic depictions of gore and mayhem, such war films as Platoon, Hamburger Hill, Full Metal Jacket, Coming Home, Good Morning, Vietnam, Rumor of War, and Born on the Fourth of July seemed to send a strong, and indeed salutary, "war is hell" message to the impressionable young. But as for imparting what the Vietnam conflict was about, and why the United States fought and lost it, too often these films were worse than inadequate. The problem was not simply that these films' "visceral vision" trafficked more in feelings than in facts: in many cases their depictions of war's reality were artfully employed not to deglamorize and decry war per se, but to suggest that the horror was peculiar to one war in particular, Vietnam, and that it was the consequence of strictly American behavior, policy, and attitudes. The message was not lost on the young: the locus of evil was the American "system" itself. So it was with a sense of relief that critics of "Hollywood history" found high schools beginning to squeeze the Vietnam era into their American history courses. How disappointed they will be to learn that a popular and acclaimed Vietnam curriculum, and the only one now in print, virtually duplicates Hollywood's rendition of the war, which thus stands poised to become the standardized version of history in the public schools.

After a few months facilitating theatre in the day-care centre, I had managed to incorporate almost the entire membership into the theatrical activity. One day, the social worker approached me and, indicating the back left-hand corner of the hall, said, ‘Maybe you can try to get the Iraqi group “moving” a little.’ She was referring to Jacob, Abudy and Sadik, all three of whom had originally immigrated to Israel from Iraq in the 1950s. They used to come to the centre on the same days — Sunday and Wednesday — and sit together at their fixed places, by the same table, in the back left-hand corner of the main dining hall.

THERE WERE FEW Ethiopians in the town. Most remained in camps out towards the border. They were easy enough to spot, though, even among the polyglot locals. Folded like bats, they squatted on street cor ners, their eyes Byzantine, oblivious. Some had wares spread before them: kindling, sacking, or three tiny split tomatoes, from God knows where, sticking to a scrap of newspaper. Others simply waited for someone to give them something. The surrounding waste permeated the town casually, giving its squat buildings a kind of archaeological clarity, though foot-scuffed dust obscured the pavement of the road from the bus stop all the way to the market. As the morning shade narrowed, so the morning crowd slowed its pace. By half past nine it had subsided to a shuffle, and so it was to remain for the rest of the day. Within the market, respectable-looking merchants from the North conversed idly across the neat, narrow streets laid out by the colonial gov ernment. Cheerful calls in school-English followed me along: "Good morning." "Welcome, sir." "Come!" I gave in to an older man who had simply gestured to the chair next to him. He waved away the curious, who gathered when they saw that I could speak some Arabic, and we talked. Next to the merchant's rounded, percussive speech my city tongue seemed alternately thuggish and over-refined. I told him of my surprise at the variety of the townsfolk and he smiled. "Ah," he said, "we are a mixed people, from all corners of the conti nent."

Friday 5 May 1989, 9.00 a.m. Three days before Bulgaria and the whole world were to mark World Red Cross Day, the Head of the International Relations Department of the Bulgarian Red Cross, Alexander Marinov, and the journalist writing this article, were at the Radio Sofia studio where one of the most popular radio programmes, “Good Morning”, was being broadcast. We were taking part in a live broadcast in which, in the course of two hours, we would have to describe the activities of such an incredible humanitarian organization as the Red Cross. The audience was cross-examining us. The girls at the telephones could hardly manage to write down all the questions.

In 1938, Jean Rhys interrupted her composition of Good Morning, Midnight to write out an account of a “mental seduction” by a family friend that had occurred when she was 14. Calling the seduction “the thing that formed me that made me as I am” (cited in Thomas 27), Rhys describes the memory as intrusive and compulsive, noting that it was a great relief to set the novel aside and write it out.1 Rhys notes further that she has been drinking heavily, and that Good Morning, Midnight had taken on a compulsive life of its own, with words and sentences echoing over and over again in her head. To her surprise, she awoke one day to find that the novel had vanished out of her mind; instead, it was if she were back in Dominica, reliving her childhood. Rhys began to write out her memories, finding it a relief not to have to torture her material into the form of a novel and finding also that she didn’t need to drink as much. Although Rhys claims that she wrote the account for one, possibly two reasons, she never specifies what those reasons are. It becomes clear, however, that whatever reasons Rhys had in mind, her account of this mental seduction is an attempt to understand the compulsive and repetitious nature of what she termed her “doom,” a “motif of pain” that has pervaded her life and from which she cannot escape.

Jean Rhys published her first short story, “Vienne,” in the Transatlantic Review in 1924 and went on to become one of the most celebrated Caribbean writers of the twentieth century. Like Marson, she bridged lite great divide between pre- and post-1950 writers. In fact she published nearly as much work after 1950 as she did before. Between 1927 and 1939, she published the collection of short fiction The Left Bank (1927) and four novels: Postures (1928; later published under the title Quartet), After Leaving Mr. MacKenzie (1930), Voyage in the Dark (1934), and Good Morning Midnight (1939).1 In these same years, McKay published Home to Harlem (1928), Banjo (1929), and Banana Bottom (1933); de Lisser penned The White Witch of Rose Hall (1929) and ten other novels; Una Marson wrote “At What a Price?” (1932), “London Calling” (1934?), and “Pocomania” (1938), while the Beacon group emerged and disappeared in Trinidad. After 1939, Rhys did not publish again until 1966, when her most influential novel, Wide Sargasso Sea, appeared, followed in the 1970s by two collections of short stories and an autobiography. At the time of her death in 1979, the writers who emerged in the 1950s, such as Lamming and Naipaul, had long since achieved eminence and a new generation of writers, including Earl Lovelace, Michael Anthony, and Merle Hodge, was establishing itself.

Jean Rhys’s Good Morning, Midnight (1939) is a novel that returns obsessively to the uncanny architecture of the Parisian hotel, through providing insight into the deracinated experiences of protagonist Sasha Jansen, a woman existing at the peripheries of the interwar city. Strikingly, this uncanny architecture structures the narrative itself, in the form of frequent disruptions in temporality, stylistic negotiations of memory, and distinct fragmented typography. An architectural interpretation of Sigmund Freud’s “The Uncanny” (1919) provides a useful interpretive lens for the novel, which helps to draw out how the uncanny functions — both thematically and formally — as a spatial and psychological symptom of the deracinated modern urban condition. Working in conjunction with Rhys’s representation of memory, the uncanny architecture of Good Morning, Midnight challenges contemporary spatial theorists who posit the hotel as a key site for the liberating eradication of history, whilst also evidencing Rhys’s literary innovations in the interwar period.

“Good morning,” I blearily managed to mumble to Lao Deng and several other seniors I had never met who happened to be standing within earshot. As usual, Lao Deng had been the first to arrive for Teacher Chen’s class in People’s Park that morning (Figure 2.1). As usual, I couldn’t seem to get my act together and arrived somewhere in the middle of the pack. On this particular morning, I had been a little less enthusiastic about coming to the park than I normally would have been: an American spy plane had been forced to land at a Chinese air base on Hainan Island after a nasty incident that resulted in the downing of a Chinese fighter jet and the death of its pilot. In response to the threatening query, “Are you American?” I had already lied to more than one curious stranger in the last couple of days, “No, I’m Australian.”

Charu’s second grade classroom was furnished with only tables and chairs. There were 20 tables that seated 2 children each, and 40 chairs. The walls of the classroom were lined with bulletin boards that displayed several colorful charts and visuals. One bulletin board was prominently titled Our National Symbols and displayed illustrations of the symbols of India such as the national flower (lotus), the national bird (peacock), the national animal (tiger), the national fruit (mango), the national tree (banyan), the national flag, and so forth. Another bulletin board displayed a visual presentation titled The Mahatma (referring to Mahatma Gandhi). I noticed on the blackboard that the lesson that had just been completed prior to my arrival was called Sources of Water and there were questions listed on the board for the children to answer in their notebooks. It seemed that the thematic unit for the month was Water, and the students had been busy with the writing assignment. Charu was grading notebooks at the teacher’s desk. As I entered, she asked the children to wish me, and all the children stood up, saying “good morning, Ma’am.” The class was just completing a period of written work and as each student finished the assigned work, he/she would stand up to submit their notebooks placing them in a neat pile on the window sill.

The IRI2038 project will explore plausible yet provocative scenarios for the future of RD this is frequently accomplished through videos or narratives set in the future. This column takes the form of a 2038 interview with a retiring R&D executive looking back at what has changed over her career, illustrating the potential impacts of several trends and weak signals identified by the IRI2038 process. On May 15, 2038, IRI's Director of Futures Studies, Nikhita Cruise, sat down with Dr. Rachel Chen, retiring Chief Innovation Officer of one the world's largest consumer products companies, to talk about how much the development of new products and the management of R&D have changed over the course of Chen's 30-year career. NIKHITA CRUISE [NC]: Good morning, Dr. Chen. First, I want to thank you for taking time to talk with IRI about the changes you have seen over the course of your outstanding career. For the benefit of our readers, listeners, and viewers, perhaps you could briefly tell us about your career. RACHEL CHEN [RC]: Good morning to you, Nikhita, and thank you for those kind words. As far as my own history, I joined my firm right out of college in 2008 as a research scientist in the U.S. labs of our skincare division. My first management job was six years later, when I became section head of a team researching OTC drugs for improved digestion in our Shanghai facility. I spent ten years in Shanghai, moving up the management ranks, gaining experience in other business units. By the 2020s, our businesses in Africa were growing exponentially, so I moved here to our research facility in Addis Ababa, where I have remained ever since. Five years later, I was named Chief Innovation Officer. You know, Nikhita, this interview itself is an example of one of the biggest changes we've all seen over the last few decades. It was just 10 years ago that intelligent avatars became intelligent enough to stand in for humans in meetings around the world, finally solving the age-old problem of conducting meetings across time zones. I'm sitting here in my den having my morning coffee, being interviewed by a real-time hologram of your avatar two meters away from me, who is simultaneously seeing me as if I were in your den. Meantime, the real Nikhita Cruise is sound asleep in her Alexandria home. [Dr. Chen looks at holographic image more closely.] Wait a minute, that really is you, isn't it, Nikhita? I don't even remember the time zones anymore--What time is it there on the East Coast? Midnight? NC: It's actually I AM here, but don't worry about it. I have been looking forward to doing this interview in person for a long time. But your point about how technology has impacted the way we communicate and collaborate is well taken. My first question, then: For over lO0 years, your company has been famous for its skill and innovation in consumer research. Can you tell us how you have seen that change? RC: Certainly. When I joined the company, we did a lot of direct consumer research. Now, the only research with real consumers is done by our contract product developers. When we want to test a major new product idea ourselves, we usually go to one of the human simulation companies. Back around 2020, Henry Markram was finally successful in developing a neuron-level simulation of the human brain. Five years later, full human simulators were available, and five years after that, firms like Real Simulations, Inc., started appearing, offering to test new products on thousands of simulated humans of any demographic profile. …

Hello, everybody. Welcome to “Six Minute Science.” Today we have Dr. Njong Masakeda, the director of Cyber Cognitive Research Center, as our guest. He is the man behind the controversial research that claims to solve the mystery of “sudden apneic death,” or SAD. Good morning, Dr. Masakeda, and welcome to the show. NM: Good morning. Your research has stimulated a major international debate and the scientific community is sharply divided over the issue. Some believe it is the most important piece of research done in this century. Contrarily, others see you as a modern-day doomsayer without any valid scientific reason. Is it because you have found the “Emoroom” associated with SAD? NM: That's partly true. Emoroom is our new-age religion. It is definitely the greatest invention since, say, the Internet or Google. It revolutionized the neurosciences and changed our way of communication. Most of us cannot imagine life without Emoroom. So I can understand the “that's blasphemy” mindset of some scientists. Other reasons? NM: Our explanation of SAD itself. We found something totally unknown to medical science—a new category of disease. So naturally there is some refractoriness to accept it. Something similar …

If the primary goals of an author with a new book are to garner attention, generate conversation, and sell copies, then Amy Chua could not be considered anything but successful: After an excerpt of her book Battle Hymn of the Tiger Mother appeared in the Wall Street Journal under the headline “Why Chinese Mothers Are Superior” in early January 2011, the term “Tiger Mom” has entered the cultural lexicon and has been the subject of heated debate in the public square, virtual or otherwise. As the fodder for discussion on popular television programs like the Today Show, Good Morning America, and The Colbert Report, not to mention the back-and-forth it has stirred up on the blogosphere—the initial Wall Street Journal teaser itself spawned over 8,800 comments—Chua's book has thrust longstanding stereotypes of Asians in America as model minorities and perpetual foreigners into the spotlight yet again.

Transcript from "This Week With David Brinkley" dated July 3, 1862. David Brinkley: Good morning. This morning, in the aftermath of an extremely bloody and long fought battle around Richmond we have as our guests one of the foremost theorists of war in the post-Napoleonic age, Prussian General Carl von Clausewitz and the commander of the recently renamed Confederate Army of Northern Virginia, General Robert E. Lee. General Lee, while this seven days of fighting now seems to be waning and the South has scored a strategic victory there were several tactical defeats along the way at a tremendous price to your forces. Please give our viewers some background on the events leading up to this campaign and an overview of the campaign itself. General Lee: Well David, it's no secret that the war has produced mixed results for the Confederacy. While we enjoyed enormous initial success at Manassas and have a population imbued with the rightness of our cause, we have suffered setbacks in the Western theater at Forts Henry and Donelson and particularly at Shiloh. Additionally, the Union's efforts at a Naval Blockade are starting to have some effect, although that is open to debate. Recently, one of our greatest generals, Thomas "Stonewall" Jackson, has performed extremely well in the Shenandoah Valley and has rejuvenated Confederate spirits.

I cannot cease to contemplate them: one river for two seas, two seas for one river; until the cry of the pelican flying high above the clouds awakes them. I cannot speak. I have no hands. A whip has slowly lashed them from me, since time beyond recall. I scarcely recognize the new words I have learned. Scarcely have a tongue to say good morning and good night. All about me is immensity. All is immense, like my hurricane hair and the beastliness of my grandparents

At 2 p.m. on Monday, 21 May 1827, the hopes of Arbuthnott, Wellington and Peel were realised, when the first edition of the new daily, The Standard, appeared. Charles Baldwin, however, had no intention of exposing his successful thrice-weekly, The St. James’s Chronicle, as he revealed in his own words: I was not willing to risk the continuance of my old and valued journal; I preferred the heavier risk of establishing at my own expense and hazard, a Daily Evening Paper to be conducted on the same principles and by the same editor. I also engaged the assistance of Dr Maggin and other celebrated writers. The choice of a name then claimed our attention. The object was to make a stand against the inroad of principle; contrary to our Constitution in Church and State; a very appropriate motto was chosen by Dr Giffard, ‘Signifer, statue signum. Hic optime manebimus’ (Plant here the Standard. Here we shall best remain) and on the 21st May, 1827, The Standard was hauled as a rallying point, and was speedily followed by the raising of Standards in the Provincial and Colonial Conservative Press. Even Foreign newspapers have adopted the name.1