orange days, etc.
1. 每日報章選輯: orange days
2. 曾伯窮到山窮水盡要扮打刧博坐監, 法官大人竟罰他拿1000元出來自簽守行為一年. 大剌剌1000元, 他哪裡拿得出來? 他要是有1000元, 就不用出此下策啦, 真諷刺.
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Black day for the blue pencil
Once they were key figures in literary publishing, respected by writers who acknowledged their contribution to shaping books. But, argues Blake Morrison, editors are now an endangered species
Blake Morrison
Saturday August 6, 2005
Observer
Has editing had its day? A Dutch publisher recently described to me how a British author had sent her the first draft of his new book. Though a great admirer of his work, she felt that this time he hadn't done justice to his material. So they sat down together and mapped out a different perspective and storyline and he went away and rewrote the book. It's not often you hear publishers speak of being so frankly interventionist - and I wondered if that was why the author had sent his book to a Dutch editor, because this kind of intense collaborative process between author and editor no longer exists in Britain.
A novelist friend, hearing the story, said: "When I hand in a book, I've usually been working on it for several years, so I like to think there'll be little left to do to it. But if I did need editing, I'm not sure, these days, I could get it."
A graduate student of mine at Goldsmiths College expressed similar nostalgia in an email: "I have a notion of editors in days of yore," he wrote, "being straight-backed and terrifying, all integrity and no bullshit, responding to a vocational calling and above all driven by a love of the word, brave enough not only to champion the best but also to tell their authors whatever might be needed to improve the work. And that now such personalities are as distant a myth in publishing as yer Shanklys and yer Cloughs are to football, that sharp-dressed corporate beasts run the show, reluctant to make decisions of their own, and ill-equipped to challenge those who rule a star-led system, so that everyone from JK Rowling to David Eggers suffers from the lack of scissors that might have been to their benefit."
Just after getting that email, I read about a literary conference at which both writers and agents were complaining that, because of the pressures they're under, modern-day editors simply don't have the time to edit. A news item about an initiative by Macmillan to encourage first novelists left a similar impression - the authors will receive royalties but no advances; however, if their books needed significant editing, they will have to pay for the services of a freelance editor, since no one can do it in-house.
If editing is in decline, that's bad for literature. History suggests that while some authors work alone, more or less unaided, the majority benefit from editors - and that a few are utterly dependent on them. Take Thomas Wolfe, not the white-suited New Journalist and author of Bonfire of the Vanities, but the other Tom Wolfe, his outsize predecessor, a man of 6ft 6", who used to stand up while he was writing, using the top of a fridge as his desk. Clearly standing didn't inhibit Wolfe's productivity. The typescript of his first novel, as submitted to Scribner in New York, was more than 300,000 words - what a contemporary publisher would call "fuck-off long". But a young editor at Scribner, Maxwell Perkins, agreed to publish it, if Wolfe agreed to cut 90,000 words, and between them they did the job.
Soon Wolfe was working on a second novel. By early 1933 it was four times as long as the uncut version of the first - and growing at a rate of 50,000 words a month. "I think I'll have to take the book away from him," Perkins told colleagues, and invited Wolfe to gather all he'd written and bring it into the office, since he was sure the skeleton was already there. Some skeleton. There were jokes about the typescript being delivered by truck. The bundle stood two feet high - more than 3,000 pages, unnumbered - and this was only the first part of the novel. They began working together, two hours a day, six days a week - then nights, from 8.30 onwards; then Sunday nights as well. It was like painting the Forth Bridge. Wolfe would be asked for a short linking paragraph - and return a few days later with 10,000 words. In the end, while Wolfe was out of town for a few days, Perkins had the typescript set - all 450,000 words. It was published as Of Time and the River, and though another of Perkins's authors, Hemingway, said it was "something over 60 per cent shit", it became a bestseller. Wolfe later wrote an account of its composition, "the ten thousand fittings, changings, triumphs and surrenders that went into the making of a book".
There was a sad end to the Wolfe story. First rumours circulated about all the help he'd received, then a damaging piece appeared in the Saturday Review alleging that any organisational skills and critical intelligence in his work were down to Perkins. Wolfe grew resentful and paranoid, and in a letter accused Perkins of wanting to destroy him (the letter, characteristically, ran to 28 pages). "Restrain my adjectives, by all means," he wrote, "moderate ... my incondite exuberance, but don't derail the train, don't take the Pacific Limited and switch it down the siding towards Hogwart Junction". Shortly afterwards Wolfe ditched Perkins and went round telling people: "I'm going to show them I can write my books without Max." It didn't happen. There wasn't the time for it to happen. Wolfe died of TB and pneumonia, at 37.
Wolfe's dependency on Perkins was extreme. It's not so life-and-death with most of us. But all writers need editors.
A truism. All writers need editors. So why isn't the matter more discussed?
There are several reasons, I think. The editorial tradition, first of all, is for self-effacement. As human beings, editors may be far from self-effacing, but as workers their contribution goes largely unacknowledged - a nod in the preface or a thank-you from the author at the launch party and that's it. They're the ghosts in the machine, the secret sharers, the anonymous power behind the throne.
And when they do come out from the shadows to write their own memoirs, they tend to be bland and uninformative. This isn't true of Diana Athill's Stet or Jennie Erdal's Ghosting, both excellent and at times very funny books about working with authors. But Tom Maschler's recent autobiography is more typical in its unrevealingness. Maschler is an outstanding publisher, whose list at Cape includes Gabriel García Márquez, Salman Rushdie, John Fowles, Kurt Vonnegut, Philip Roth - but none of the many anecdotes he recounts about drinks, lunches, dinners, parties and prize ceremonies sheds light on the process of editing. "I have often been asked to define what makes one decide on a particular book," he writes in the closing pages. Ah-ha, we think, here it comes. "The choice is so personal, so subjective ... To publish well the publisher must be passionate about the book for its own sake ... and for me to care I must admire it for its quality." Well, thanks, Tom, that's really cleared things up.
Writers have done little to clarify the role of editors, either. Where the experience of being edited goes well, they're grateful, but the more publicised cases are when the experience is bad. Henry James called editing "the butcher's trade". Byron associated it with emasculation and, he said, would "have no gelding". DH Lawrence compared it to trying "to clip my own nose into shape with scissors". And John Updike says: "It's a little like going to ... the barber", adding, "I have never liked haircuts." Or listen to the condescension of Nabokov: "By editor I suppose you mean proofreader." There are, of course, many different kinds of editor - from fact-checkers and OKers (as they're known at the New Yorker), to line-editors and copy editors, to editors who grasp the big picture but skip the detail. But in popular mythology they're lumped together as bullyboys, bouncers or, to quote Nabokov again, "pompous avuncular brutes".
Those who can, write; those who can't, edit - that seems to be the line. I prefer TS Eliot. Asked if editors were no more than failed writers, he replied: "Perhaps - but so are most writers."
Behind hostile images of the editor lies the pressure of Romantic ideology, according to which the writer is seen as a solitary creative genius or Übermensch -and the editor as a meddling middlebrow. "Invisible behind his arras," one Victorian critic wrote, "the author's unsuspected enemy works to the sure discomfiture of all original ability - this fool in the dark who knows not what he mars." What the editor is accused of marring isn't just originality but that other cherished notion of Romantic ideology, "the spontaneous overflow of powerful feelings". By this measure, any sort of interference with a text is a violation. Even authors are castigated for tidying up their younger selves, as Wordsworth did with the 1850 Prelude and Auden did by revising or disowning poems he had written in the 1930s. But the real enemies are held to be a writer's friends, family and publishers, whose suggestions can only dilute or contaminate the pure spring of inspiration. The accusation that Ted Hughes was "suppressing" Sylvia Plath when he rearranged the original edition of Ariel and left out certain passages from her Letters and Journals, was connected to a suspicion that he had driven her to suicide - silencing her twice over. Something similar has been alleged against Percy Bysshe Shelley, for the changes he made to his wife Mary's novel Frankenstein, changes which one commentator has described as "a kind of rape", a "collaboration forced by a more dominant writer on a less powerful and perhaps unwilling 'partner'". In fact, Mary seems to have been a fully consenting adult, who approached editing as she did parenting - "the good parent, like the good author, neither abandons its offspring nor seeks wholly to control or shape them" - but the accusation that she was violated remains.
Perhaps I've been unusually lucky, but in my experience, editors, far from coercing and squashing writers, do exactly the opposite, elucidating them and drawing them out, or, when they're exhausted and on the point of giving up (like marathon runners hitting the wall), coaxing them to go the extra mile. And yet this myth of the destructive editor - the dolt with the blue pencil - is pervasive, not least in academe. Perhaps the antipathy stems from the perceived difference between the publisher and the scholar: for whereas a scholarly editor, appearing late in the day and with the wisdom of hindsight, seeks to restore a classic, the publisher's editor is the idiot who ruined it in the first place.
A good illustration of this antipathy is the Cambridge edition of DH Lawrence. "Here at last is Sons and Lovers in full: uncut and uncensored," the editors of the 1992 Cambridge edition crow triumphantly. Their introduction goes on to allege that in being reduced by 10%, the text was "mangled"; that the editor Edward Garnett's censorship was "coy and intrusive"; that Lawrence "reacted to Garnett's decision to cut the novel with 'sadness and grief', but was powerless to resist"; and that when Garnett told him further cuts were to be made, Lawrence "exploded" with rage.
Read Lawrence's letters and you get a rather different impression. "All right," he tells Garnett, "take out what you think necessary," and gives him licence to do as he sees fit: "I don't mind what you squash out ... I feel always so deep in your debt." Lawrence was short of money, it's true, and had his mind on other things, having recently eloped with Frieda. Even so, when he writes that "the thought of you pedgilling away at the novel frets me" (pedgilling, a nice coinage, a cross between pencilling and abridging), the fret isn't what Garnett will do to the text, it's that the task is an unfair imposition: "Why can't I do those things?" And when Lawrence is finally sent proofs, he's not unhappy. "You did the pruning jolly well," he tells Garnett, and dedicates the book to him: "I wish I weren't so profuse - or prolix, or whatever it is."
It's true that, just as some writers write too much, some editors edit too much. As the New Yorker writer Renata Adler acerbically puts it, there are those who "cannot leave a text intact, eating through it leaf and branch, like tent caterpillars, leaving everywhere their mark". When he edited the magazine Granta, Bill Buford was sometimes accused of being overbearingly interventionist - in his spare time he hung out with football hooligans, and it was said he brought the same thuggishness to editing, though personally I never found him brutal in the least. At the other extreme are the quiet, nurturing sorts, the editors who ease you through so gently that when they do tamper with the text you barely notice and can kid yourself they did no work at all. Frank O'Connor compared his editor William Maxwell to "a good teacher who does not say 'Imitate me' but 'This is what I think you are trying to say'."
When people speak of writer's block, they think of the writer stalled over a blank page, or of throwing scrunched-up bits of paper - false starts - into a wastebin. But there's another kind of block, which is structural, when you've written tens of thousands of words, but can't figure out which are superfluous and what goes where. Something's wrong, but you don't know what it is, and that can make you pretty desperate, so that if some new acquaintance rashly expresses an interest in what you've written, as happens to the Californian wine buff and would-be published author Miles in Alexander Payne's recent film Sideways, you foist your typescript on them, which in Miles's case means retrieving from the back seat of his car not one whacking heap of pages but two, and even though you know this will a) place the recipient in an awkward situation b) sprain his or her back and/or c) ruin a beautiful friendship, still, you do it anyway, because you're desperate.
And that's why editors matter, not as butchers and barbers, but because what's wrong with a book can be something the author has repressed all knowledge of, something glaringly obvious which, the moment an editor or other reader identifies it, you think yes, of course, Eureka, and then you go back and fix it. Editing might be a bloody trade. But knives aren't the exclusive property of butchers. Surgeons use them too.
Three major works of early 20th-century literature - Sons and Lovers, The Waste Land and The Great Gatsby - were transformed by the interventions of others. The uncut version of Sons and Lovers is the one in general use now, so we can see exactly what Garnett took out. Mostly, he pared back passages about Paul Morel's brother, William, at the risk of betraying the title of the novel, which declares this to be a book about "sons", plural, but mostly with a gain in focus and narrative pace. The censorship, too, is largely innocuous. "She had the most beautiful hips he had ever imagined," Lawrence writes, when Paul sees Miriam naked for the first time. Garnett changed "hips" to "body", which seems to me an improvement, "hips" being an odd thing for Paul to focus on and, I suspect, a euphemism, and at any rate not a major breakthrough in sexual candour.
The one serious misjudgment Garnett made concerns the scene where Paul and Clara go back to her mother's house, after a night in town at the opera. Paul is invited to stay over and use Clara's bed while she sleeps with her mother. He hopes to have sex with Clara, nonetheless, and it's only when her mother refuses to leave them alone together that he reluctantly makes his way upstairs to Clara's bedroom and undresses. Garnett cut the following:
Then he realised that there was a pair of [Clara's] stockings on a chair. He got up stealthily, and put them on himself. Then he sat still, and knew he would have to have her. After that he sat erect on the bed . . .
A braver editor might have allowed Lawrence both his double entendre - "erect" - and the authentic resoluteness of a man on heat ("he would have to have her"). But the real censorship concerns those stockings. Too kinky, Garnett must have reasoned. The sensible Clara might have thought the same, had she known what Paul was getting up to in her bedroom, and not responded to him as warmly as she does when he creeps back downstairs and finds her naked in front of the fire. (Garnett trimmed a paragraph from this scene too, including a reference to Paul holding a large breast in each hand, "like big fruits in their cups".) Still, for us it's an insight into Paul - a clue to his feminine side, perhaps, or closet transvestism, or masturbatory male heterosexuality, or, on a deeper level, his need to know what it feels like to be Clara. The modern reader wants the stockings, and will wonder why Garnett didn't dispense with the Mills & Boon stuff instead ("She gave herself. He held her fast. It was a moment intense almost to agony"). But this is now, and that was then, and by making Sons and Lovers a novel which, unlike The Rainbow, escaped moral denunciation and legal writs, Garnett did Lawrence a service - as also did Frieda, Jessie Chambers and Louie Burrows, all of whom read the book in draft and made suggestions.
Thanks to the discovery of the original typescript of The Waste Land, in the New York Public Library in 1968, Ezra Pound's part in the poem's composition is well-known. Most of his comments are plain and workmanlike - a fellow maker offering sound advice. "Verse not interesting enough," he scrawls in the margin; "Too easy", "Inversions not warranted", "rhyme drags it out to diffuseness". He's particularly severe whenever the poem teeters into Prufrockian tentativeness - "make up yr mind", "Perhaps be damned" and "dam per'apsez", he complains. Other cuts are motivated by ear, not logic - Eliot at this point was using quatrains, and Pound chastised him for such old-style regularity. But taste comes into it, too, as when Eliot describes the young man carbuncular, leaving the typist he has just seduced, "delay[ing] only to urinate and spit": as "probably over the mark", Pound says, and takes it out, as he also does a chilly, misogynistic account of a woman having a bath.
It's good, practical stuff. But not infallible. And Eliot was far from slavish in following Pound's advice. If he had listened to Pound, we would not have the lines about the young man being someone "on whom assurance sits / as a silk hat on a Bradford millionaire". Nor would we have those tense snatches of conversation from a couple in bed in Part 2 of the poem: "My nerves are bad tonight. Yes, bad. Stay with me. / Speak to me." Pound objected that this was mere "photography", but Eliot stuck to his guns, preferring to rely on the opinion of his wife Vivienne, who thought the passage "wonderful".
Pound wasn't a Redeemer, any more than Garnett was a Mangler. Both had good advice to offer but the integrity of the work - someone else's work - remains. Maxwell Perkins's editing of The Great Gatsby is exemplary in this way, too. He had edited Fizgerald's previous two novels, but Fitzgerald wanted this one to be a more "consciously artistic achievement", and Perkins helped in numerous ways. For instance:
1) The title. Fitzgerald's running title was Among the Ash-Heaps and Millionaires. His second choice was Trimalchio in West Egg. Perkins didn't like either. Nor plain Trimalchio. Nor plain Gatsby. A month before publication day, Fitzgerald cabled in a panic from Italy to suggest Gold-Hatted Gatsby. Perkins held firm. The Great Gatsby was best.
2) Ideas: At an early stage, to spur Fitzgerald along, Perkins showed him a possible dust jacket for the book - two gigantic eyes, brooding over New York. The jacket inspired Fitzgerald to develop a key image and motif in the novel - the billboard of optician Dr TJ Eckleburg.
3) Length: One week before he thought he'd finish, Fitzgerald estimated Gatsby at 50,000 words, more a novella than a novel. Perkins encouraged him to fill the story out, and Fitzgerald spliced in about 20 passages, adding up to 10,000 words. I've never heard anyone complain the book is too long.
4) Character: Perkins thought Gatsby himself too vague: "The reader's eyes can never quite focus on him, his outlines are dim ... Couldn't you add one or two characteristics, like the use of that phrase 'old sport'." He also thought readers would want to know how Gatsby got his wealth. Fitzgerald agreed: "I myself didn't know what Gatsby looked like or was engaged in ... I'm going to tell more." And he did.
Fitzgerald had written three drafts of Gatsby before Perkins intervened, but then, he said, "sat down and wrote something I was proud of". Perhaps there's no better example of the proper balance between author and editor. One little mystery concerns the last page - the blue lawn, the green light at the end of Daisy's dock, and "the orgastic future that year by year recedes before us". "Orgastic" isn't quite a neologism but it's extremely rare; whereas "orgasmic" and "orgiastic" are common enough. Was it a typo? Neither Perkins nor Fitzgerald was good at spelling: after This Side of Paradise was published, spotting the typos - there were more than 100 - became a parlour game in New York book circles (without his secretary, who saved him time and again, Perkins might have become infamous as The Editor Who Couldn't Spell). But "orgastic" does work. Perhaps it was conscious artistry.
The years 1912 to 1925 seem to have been the golden age of editing. Most of the publishers I've talked to, both young and old, say it's impossible to do such editing today. However diligent you are, the sheer speed at which books have to be pushed through prevents it. These days you have to be an all-rounder, involved with promotion, publicity and sales - all of which are crucial but mean that when a writer is trapped in a wrong book you don't have the time to sit down together and find a way out. One editor spoke of a colleague who had managed to do brilliant work purely because, having small children, she was allowed to do most of her work at home; were she in the office all day, having to attend meetings and fend off phone-calls, she'd never manage it.
Meanwhile, most people say the real editing of books is now done by agents, since agents offer authors stability, whereas publishers' editors are nomadic, moving from house to house.
Does it matter? Books still come out, and if writers these days moan about being edited too little, where once they moaned about being edited too much, well, writers will always moan. By common consent, two of the outstanding debut novels of recent years, Zadie Smith's White Teeth and Monica Ali's Brick Lane, were insufficiently edited -but that hasn't stopped them achieving commercial and critical success. And who wants to see the return of what Lawrence called the "censor-moron", cutting whatever he deems improper for us to read?
But think for a moment of another kind of culture, where nothing is edited. A culture where we're all so logorrheaic we haven't time for each other's words or books or blogs, where everything goes into the ether - and there's no sign that anyone reads it all. A culture that doesn't care about editing is a culture that doesn't care about writing. And that has to be bad.
It seems no coincidence to me that there should have been a massive growth in creative writing programmes in Britain in recent years. That the reason so many aspirant writers are signing up for MAs and PhDs is to get the kind of editorial help they no longer hope to get from publishing houses. If Perkins were alive today, would he be editing texts for Scribner? Or teaching fiction to creative writing students at Columbia University?
"But can you really teach creative writing?" people ask. I like to think so - that certain skills can be passed on. But maybe it's the wrong question. Better to ask: "Can you teach would-be writers to edit?" Yes, absolutely, yes. Walk in on a creative writing class and you'll hear the kind of babble you might have heard from Garnett with Lawrence, or Pound with Eliot, or Perkins with Fitzgerald: why not think of losing that, or moving that there? Give the reader more signposts. Stop bombarding us with so many characters. Don't parade your research, integrate it. Show, don't tell. Get in and out of the scene more quickly. Is that simile really working? And so on.
Perkins warned editors against delusions of grandeur. "Don't ever get to feeling important about yourself ... an editor can get only as much out of an author as the author has in him." He's right. When a book appears, the author must take the credit. But if editing disappears, as it seems to be doing, there'll be no books worth taking the credit for.
Guardian Unlimited
移居国外的越裔部落格大部分些关于食物和旅行,但最有名的移居外国的越裔部落客Joe Ruelle转型成行动者,并在近来触及了审查制的议题,在他的越南文Yahoo! 360° blog中的一篇滑稽文章中。
每个人都知道在越南写部落格有难处。但当我听到雅虎和微软联手以软体监控部落格来将“敏感”字替换成越南菜名,我不禁猜想…。部落格监控方法一定要非常相容于网路社区且具弹性,而不是像昨天越南雅虎!所使用的那种宽松范围鸭。太气人!雅虎的主管最好马上处理他们没经验的炒南瓜软体。如果不处理,随后我将到他们的办公室并拿一个年糕,然后再一家餐厅一家餐厅地去宣传直到所有那些水煮蜗牛承认他们炒饭错误,且越南烙饼想出一个有更多鱼酱的办法。
部落格审查的底线在哪,我现在有很清楚的概念,而且我将不会像Trung那样踩到地雷。无论如何,也许我从现在起要向Joe学习,在部落格提些面饭汤之类的。
2007年08月29日 星期三
好文﹕司法覆核的理念發展
By goethe
時事評論P12 信報財經新聞 戴耀廷2007-08-29 法治人
司法覆核的理念發展
本土行動在皇后碼頭的司法覆核案敗訴後,有評論提出公民社會是否適合及應該使用司法覆核作為抗爭手段,認為香港法院的司法覆核原則其實相當局限,要成功挑戰政府的決定並不容易,以司法覆核作抗爭反而使整個行動的認受性因敗訴而被削弱。 法律原則不斷演變
這說法有部分是對的,香港法院現在引用的司法覆核原則的確是相當局限,要成功挑戰政府的決定實在不是容易。我也同意香港法院有很高的社會認受性,若她裁定公民社會提出的司法覆核申請不成功,那的確會削弱公民社會行動的認受性。
但我卻不同意因而得出的結論,認為公民社會不應以司法覆核作為挑戰政府決定的其中一種手段。現存法律原則上的局限不會永遠不變的,法律原則是會不斷演變發展。本文擬闡釋現行司法覆核背後的理念及其源頭,並指出這理念其實與香港特區新的憲政秩序不相符,故在制度內已存在要轉變或發展的張力,而所發展的方向將決定公民社會能透過司法覆核達到多大程度對政府的監察。因此問題的關鍵實是香港特區法院在司法覆核的理念上是否願意變及如何變。
香港司法覆核的基本原則源於英國普通法的「越權原則」。在「越權原則」的理念下,在處理司法覆核的申請時,法院並不會問有關的行政決定是否正確,它也不能任意更改政府的決定。法院只會(亦只能)問政府有沒有權作出這行政決定。若政府作的行政決定是在法律所賦予的權力範圍之內,那麼即使法院認為該行政決定不對,法院也不能撤銷這行政決定,也不會提供什麼司法的救濟。這些行政決定可稱為越權的行政決定,而越權的行政決定都沒有法律效力,法院只能就越權的行政決定向公民提供司法的救濟。
由此「越權原則」,法院進一步發展了三個具體的越權情況:一、政府作出不合法的行政決定。二、政府作出不合程序規定的行政決定。三、政府作出不合理的行政決定。香港法院在過渡前及過渡後都是引用此「越權原則」及引伸出的具體規定作為其司法覆核的理念依據。
但英國普通法的「越權原則」卻是建基於英國本身非常獨特的憲制。在英國,因其歷史的演變,國會是擁有無上權力的,憲法有所謂「國會至上」的憲政原則,英國亦沒有成文的憲法。基於此,英國的法院是不能質疑國會通過的法令的合法性和合憲性。「越權原則」就是在這種憲政背景發展出來,法院要依靠詮釋「法律條文」及「立法原意」來作為覆核政府的理據基礎。法院本身並不享有任何憲政權力去覆核行政決定,一切都要以作為國會代言人的角色來行使司法覆核的權力。
由於法院和國會之間獨特的憲政關係,英國法院在處理司法覆核的個案及發展司法覆核的具體原則時,都在理念上受到規限。舉一個例子,上面提到政府作出不合理的行政決定就是越權的決定,但法院在處理何謂「不合理」的決定時,為了不會挑戰「國會至上」這更根本的憲政原則,她不會採用一般人理解的「不合理」程度,而是要求「非常的不合理」的行政決定才算是越權。這麼高的門檻就解釋了並不容易成功透過司法覆核推翻行政決定的原因。
特區建立本身憲制
另一個例子可顯示英國「國會至上」的憲政原則如何影響著司法覆核的發展,到現在為止,法院仍不願意引入「不合乎比例」作為司法覆核的原則,原因是這可能會改變了法院在「國會至上」的憲制下與國會及政府的關係。假若「不合乎比例」原則得以確立,即使政府被國會賦予非常廣闊的酌情權,法院仍可對政府作更深度的監察,要求政府必須考慮採用與它所要達到的行政目的合乎比例及更少損及市民利益的行政手段,而政府若沒有採用就得提出充分理據解釋。
在過渡前,香港作為英國殖民地,以相同的理念來理解司法覆核是無可厚非;但回歸後,香港成立了一個新的憲政秩序。在新憲政秩序下,香港特區法院已與英國的國會和憲制割裂。以「國會至上」為基礎理念的「越權原則」與香港法院司法覆核的權力的關係變得並不是必須了。立法會也不享有「至上」的地位而可以規限特區法院,即使法院引用相同的司法覆核的具體原則,但其理念也不再是建基於「國會至上」。這也就是上述在制度內已存在轉變或發展的張力。
因為香港法院已從「國會至上」的憲政原則下釋放了出來,由「國會至上」施加於法院的理念局限不再存在,特區法院在新的憲政秩序下有更廣闊的空間去發展出新的司法覆核理念及原則。特區法院可以超越現有狹窄的越權或合法性的理念,而考慮是否引進更高的標準,例如政府不得濫用行政權力、或確保行政決定能符合公平的要求;或政府要達致良好管治。那麼「不合乎比例」原則就可以被引入成為法院處理司法覆核申請時的具體法律原則了。
若香港法院發展出適當的理念及具體法律原則,公民社會在提出司法覆核申請時勝算將增加,其行動的認受性更得到法院確立而進一步增強。結果是政府在政策制定的更早階段就得讓公民社會有更具體的參與,以避免導致司法覆核的訴訟出現。那麼公民社會所冀盼的社會目標就更可得到更具體的實踐了。
* Posted on: Wed, Aug 29 2007 6:18 PM
編校要做的事情得看稿子而定,但基本上要完成的工作不出以下這些(不是所有項目都要做):
1. 收稿、彙整
2. 調整階層架構、安排章節次序、外發正確性審查
3. 基本邏輯檢查、順稿、下標題
4. 統一體例(原文體例、引文體例、數字體例、註解體例等)、名詞
5. 編目次、定書名
6. 整理圖、表(重繪或購版權)
7. 下段式、發排
8. 發校錯字
9. 校版面、發索引、合台數
10. 寫文案、申請ISBN、發封面設計
11. 發印
上列有「發」字起頭的事,通常都是外包的,工錢都要另外算。純就編輯的工錢而言,簡單的稿子,一千字六十元也可以接;事情複雜,工程大的話,一千字三百也有可能不划算。
38、這一項提案已經被執行委員會多次地討論,而且被通過了。
39、那名間諜被指示在火車站的月台上等候他。
40、這本新書正被千千萬萬的讀者所搶購著。
41、季辛吉將主要地被記憶為一位翻雲覆雨的政客。
42、他的低下的出身一直被保密著,不告訴他所有的下屬。
英語多被動語氣,最難化入中文。中文西化,最觸目最刺耳的現象,是這被動語氣。無論在文言或白話裡,中文當然早已有了被動句式,但是很少使用,而且句子必短。例如「為世所笑」,「但為後世嗤」,「被人說得心動」,「曾經名師指點」等,都簡短而自然,絕少逆拖倒曳,喧賓奪主之病。還有兩點值得注意:其一是除了「被」、「經」、「為」之外,尚有「受」、「遭」、「挨」、「給」。「教」、「讓」、「任」等字可以表示被動,不必處處用「被」。其二是中文有不少句子是以(英文觀念的)受詞為主詞:例如「機票買好了」,「電影看過沒有」,就可以視為「機票(被)買好了」,「電影(被)看過沒有」。也可以視為省略主詞的「(我)機票買好了」,「(你)電影看過沒有」。中文裡被動觀念原來很淡,西化之後,凡事都要分出主客之勢,也是自討麻煩。其實英文的被動句式,只有受者,不見施者,一件事只呈現片面,話說得謹慎,卻不清楚。「他被懷疑並沒有真正進過軍校」:究竟是誰在懷疑他呢?是軍方,是你,還是別人?
時方晚秋, 氣象肅穆, 略帶憂郁, 早晨的陰影和黃昏的陰影, 幾乎連接在一起, 不可分別. 歲將云暮, 終日昏暗, 我就在這麼一天, 到西敏寺去散步了幾個鐘頭. 古寺巍巍, 森森然似有鬼氣, 和陰沉的季候正好調和; 我跨進大廳, 覺得自己已經置身遠古, 相忘於古人的鬼影之中了.
On one of those sober and rather melancholy days, in the latter part of Autumn, when the shadows of morning and evening almost mingle together, and throw a gloom over the decline of the year, I passed several hours in rambling about Westminster Abbey. There was something congenial to the season in the mournful magnificence of the old pile; and, as I passed its threshold, seemed like stepping back into the regions of antiquity, and losing myself among the shades of former ages.
一條大路, 兩旁白蠟樹成林, 路盡頭可以望見牧師舊宅的灰色門前, 路口園門的門拱已不知在哪一年掉下來了, 可是兩座粗石雕成的門柱還巍然矗立著. 舊宅的故主是位德高望重的牧師, 現已不在人世, 一年前, 他的靈柩從園林裡遷出, 移向村中公墓, 也有不少人執紼隨行.
Between two tall gateposts of rough-hewn stone (the gate itself having fallen from its hinges at some unknown epoch) we beheld the gray front of the old parsonage terminating the vista of an avenue of black ash trees. It was now a twelve month since the funeral procession of the venerable clergyman, its last inhabitant, had turned from that gateway towards the village burying-ground.
新英格蘭凡是上了年紀的老宅, 似乎總是鬼影幢幢, 不清不白, 事情雖怪, 但家家如此, 也不值得一提了. 我們家的那個鬼, 常常在客廳的某一個角落, 喟然長歎; 有時也翻弄紙張, 簌簌作響, 好像正在樓上長廊裡研讀一篇講道文----奇怪的是月光穿東窗而入, 夜明如畫, 而其人的身形總不得見.
Houses of any antiquity, in New England, are so invariably possessed with spirits, that the matter seems hardly worth alluding to. Our ghost used to heave deep sighs in a particular corner of the parlor; and sometimes rustled paper, as if he were turning over a sermon, in the long upper entry;--where, nevertheless, he was invisible, in spite of the bright moonshine that fell through the eastern window.
遠處樹蔭中間金光依舊, 可是燦爛之中竟含著一點秋思. 花到八月最華麗, 卻也難掩輕愁, 一一泄露夏盡秋來的妙造. 半邊蓮自是光華奪目, 我卻從未見其生趣. (董橋修訂)
A pensive glory is seen in the far golden gleams; among the shadows of the trees. The flowers - even the brightest of them, and they are the most gorgeous of the year - have this gentle sadness wedded to their pomp, and typify the character of the delicious time each within itself. The brilliant cardinal flower has never seemed gay to me.
(遠處樹蔭中間, 金光依舊照著大地, 可是燦爛之中竟含著一點秋思. 花開到八月正是最華麗的時候, 可是即使是最豔最麗的花, 濃裝豔抹之下, 也掩蓋不了一種淡淡的輕愁; 每一朵都象徵著夏盡秋來這個微妙的季候. 半邊蓮可說是光華奪目了, 但是我從來不覺得它是它是代表歡樂的.)
一位有經驗的舞者告訴我,有些人本能地喜歡給人熱情的擁抱,有些人必須經過後天的學習。跳舞時的embrace不僅是技巧,還是心理狀況的反映,意思是對別人的信任程度,對自我的感覺等等。培養出觀察力,就可以更準確地明白對方的身體語言。有時候,喜歡跟一個人跳舞,可能出於單純肉體的感覺:那個人好像充滿感情,於是我也願意交出自己。跟一具沒有感情的肉體跳舞,最讓人沮喪。
我看到Javier跟一位女士跳舞,舞步很溫柔,沒有花巧的動作,像謙謙君子護照懷裡的舞伴。舞場其實就是人生的縮影,你跟某人跳舞,是一種愛和關懷的表達。我見過太多超卓的舞者,他們跟任何人跳舞,都是使出慣用的舞台動作,好像在告訴對方,我就是這樣,你想跟我跳舞,得看你的本領似的。因此我對Javier那種專注和誠實的態度,特別欣賞。
到了工地後,我才明白:「三行」是三個行業的總稱,即是釘板、紮鐵和落石屎。 由於這三行都是建築業的核心,所以做「三行」便漸漸成了做地盤(工人)的統稱。
三行與建築的關是這樣: 我們見到的牆呀、地板呀、天花板呀、窗台呀,都是用石屎做成,它們有不用的形狀是因為用上不用的板模灌注石屎而成。 紮鐵工先扎出鐵框,釘板工負責在外釘製板模,最後石屎工負責放石屎。 萬丈高樓便是將這工序重複又重複而建成了。
奇怪了:工盟行事向來穩健,抗議方式更是既保守又形式主義,斷不可能提出堵塞馬路之類的激進行動。至於長毛,行事素來以做騷吸引鏡頭為先,高風險動作免問,像某些報紙描繪那般當幕後黑手煽動工人阻街,則是天方夜談。
閉門造車的陰謀論缺少了甚麼?正是缺少了工人的主體性!把事情看成政府和各政黨之間的權謀力學,將人民看成棋子,這種視角也許很合乎傳媒的胃口,各大報章的社評對此之酷愛有如蒼蠅撲腐肉,文匯報的《職工盟騎劫工潮製造失業》固然是意料之中,明報在八月十二日的《爭取權益可以罔顧法紀不該》亦陰險地藉工盟幹事被捕一事「論證」它預設的判辭
這篇文章一針見血: Windows is Free 。
為甚麼 Windows 是免費的呢?因為翻版。
對於微軟來說,這大量的翻版使用者,沒有做成很大的影響。因為主要收入都是來自公司、機構等,他們必需依法使用付費版本。很多軟件如 Office、Photoshop、Dreamweaver,實際上都是以這種變相「民用免費,商用收費」的模式來營運。
「民用免費」影響深遠,由電腦、軟件使用的普及,到資訊科技的發展,網絡時代的來臨等等,都有莫大的關係。這自不然令人想起 Free Software 自由軟體的理念:不受限制地自由使用、複製、研究、修改、分發。
自由軟體業可以以賣服務、支援等為核心,非自由的軟體業可以靠「商用收費」來營運。音樂、電影、書籍等產品以普通用戶為對象,又不是賣服務,將「民用免費」和「自由」的概念放在這些東西上可行嗎?
熊一豆:有友人寫了這樣的文字,不知能否存於你的慷慨激昂之外否?這樣的文字,反正也沒地方發表的了,擅自把它貼在這裡,無意抬摃,誰別人也有說話空間而已.有一問題:既然要保育一座充滿殖民地色彩的碼頭,為什麼建解放軍的基地就那麼容不下?
這當然不是說,我不屬於「集體」,也沒有甜美的「回憶」,就反對保留;我自有我的議程,也正如他人有他的議程一樣。我不以我的不快,掩蓋他人的甜美。然而,這「集體回憶」也就見得虛妄。或者說,人們在召喚歷史文化,彷彿要挑明一根歷史的線索,以之確定身份認同。可是,天星看來看去,似乎只有一個年近半百的鐘樓可以保存,然而單講殖民地的歷史,也是它的三倍。我一向很懷疑香港要有所謂香港的歷史,但是倘若香港真要有所謂歷史,那麼要召喚的是不是天星鐘樓?
要召喚歷史文化、社會運動,我感到,真是談何容易!如果不管三七二十一,先跟它來一下,那也不免使人無所適從。或者說就先跟它來一下吧,也許就可以開出一點路子,但這就不是可以言說的範圍了。彷彿曾經有論者指出,中環的未來規劃,以一個政治經濟軍事三角作藍圖,這一點又很有意味,但現在竟又不知到了哪裏去了。總之,一切似乎在圍繞著一個「香港」中心急速旋轉,將要成就一個「香港」本身。我覺得,我們正在一步一步踏進了鄧小平「一國兩制」的套子裏,為他打造身後的光榮。不是嗎?回歸十年,大家都忙著回顧,不是都在給「一國兩制」搬磚添瓦了嗎?
「保存」這一塊就很可咀嚼。──香港可「保存」、值得「保存」、應該「保存」,而且要奮身「保存」。我彷彿又嗅到了那股「維持現狀」的氣息,二十多年後,喬裝改容,又上了前台。所不同者,「維持現狀」要「保存」的是體制,而「保育」要「維持」的是歷史。香港不少人認為,香港這個地方是一個成功的典範,於是給香港結起歷史的帳來,或從石硤尾大火開始,或從六十年代經濟起飛開始,似乎經濟不起飛,歷史就還沒有開始。但是,這香港歷史與其說是香港歷史,毋寧說是香港發跡論。所以,我又覺得,「保存」與「發跡論」實在是血脈相通。
Here are some tips for making deadlines work:
1. Use Parkinson’s Law - Parkinson’s Law states that tasks expand to fill the time given to them. By setting a strict deadline in advance you can cut off this expansion and focus on what is most important.
2. Timebox - Set small deadlines of 60-90 minutes to work on a specific task. After the time is up you finish. This cuts procrastinating and forces you to use your time wisely.
3. 80/20 - The Pareto Principle suggests that 80% of the value is contained in 20% of the input. Apply this rule to projects to focus on that critical 20% first and fill out the other 80% if you still have time.
4. Project VS Deadline - The more flexible your project, the stricter your deadline. If a task has relatively little flexibility in completion a softer deadline will keep you sane. If the task can grow easily, keep a tight deadline to prevent waste.
5. Break it Down - Any deadline over one day should be broken down into smaller units. Long deadlines fail to motivate if they aren’t applied to manageable units.
6. Hofstadter’s Law - Basically this law states that it always takes longer than you think. A rule I’ve heard in software development is to double the time you think you need. Then add six months. Be patient and give yourself ample time for complex projects.
7. Backwards Planning - Set the deadline first and then decide how you will achieve it. This approach is great when choices are abundant and projects could go on indefinitely.
8. Prototype - If you are attempting something new, test out smaller versions of a project to help you decide on a final deadline. Write a 10 page e-book before your 300 page novel or try to increase your income by 10% before aiming to double it.
9. Find the Weak Link - Figure out what could ruin your plans and accomplish it first. Knowing the unknown can help you format your deadlines.
10. No Robot Deadlines - Robots can work without sleep, relaxation or distractions. You aren’t a robot. Don’t schedule your deadline with the expectation you can work sixteen hour days to complete it. Deathmarches aren’t healthy.
11. Get Feedback - Get a realistic picture from people working with you. Giving impossible deadlines to contractors or employees will only build resentment.
12. Continuous Planning - If you use a backwards planning model, you need to constantly be updating plans to fit your deadline. This means making cuts, additions or refinements so the project will fit into the expected timeframe.
13. Mark Excess Baggage - Identify areas of a task or project that will be ignored if time grows short. What e-mails will you have to delete if it takes too long to empty your inbox? What features will your product lack if you need a rapid finish?
14. Review - For deadlines over a month long take a weekly review to track your progress. This will help you identify methods you can use to speed up work and help you plan more efficiently for the future.
15. Find Shortcuts - Almost any task or project has shortcuts you can use to save time. Is there a premade library you can use instead of building your own functions? An autoresponder to answer similar e-mails? An expert you can call to help solve a problem?
16. Churn then Polish - Set a strict deadline for basic completion and then set a more comfortable deadline to enhance and polish afterwards. Often churning out the basics of a task quickly will require no more polishing afterwards than doing it slowly.
17. Reminders - Post reminders of your deadlines everywhere. Creating a sense of urgency with your deadlines is necessary to keep them from getting pushed aside by distractions.
18. Forward Planning - Not mutually exclusive with backwards planning, this involves planning the details of a project out before setting a deadline. Great for achieving clarity about what you are trying to accomplish before making arbitrary time limits.
19. Set a Timer - Get one that beeps. Somehow the countdown of a timer appears more realistic for a ninety minute timebox than just glancing at your clock.
20. Write them Down - Any deadline over a few hours needs to be written down. Otherwise it is an inclination not a goal. Having written deadlines makes them more tangible than internal decisions alone.
21. Cheap/Fast/Good - Ben Casnocha in My Start Up Life mentions that you can have only have two of the three. Pick two of the cheap/fast/good dimensions before starting a project to help you prioritize.
22. Be Patient - Using a deadline may seem to be the complete opposite of patience. But being patient with inflexible tasks is necessary to focus on their completion. The paradox is that the more patient you are, the more you can focus. The more you can focus the quicker the results will come!
Author: Scott H Young
Posted: Thursday, August 16th, 2007 at 10:30 am
最早見於華秋苹琵琶譜, 後收於李芳園南北派十三套大曲琵琶新傳, 改稱淮陰平楚. 各家演奏段落不同, 部分演奏家不演最後三段.
列營
吹打
點將
排陣
走隊
埋伏
雞鳴山小戰
九里山大戰
項王敗陣
烏江自刎
眾軍奏凱
諸將爭功
得勝回營
銀瓶乍破水漿迸, 鐵騎突出刀鎗鳴, 曲終收撥當心畫, 四弦一聲如裂帛
當其兩軍決戰時,聲動天地,瓦屋若飛墜。徐而察之,有金聲、鼓聲、劍弩聲、人馬辟易聲,俄而無聲,久之有怨而難明者,為楚歌聲;淒而壯者,為項王悲歌慷慨之聲、別姬聲。陷大澤有追騎聲,至烏江有項王自刎聲,餘騎蹂踐爭項王聲。使聞者始而奮,既而恐,終而涕泣之無從也。
深邃悠遠的笛聲, 把我們帶到了黑土地上.
古老質樸的孩子在講述著黑土地的故事;
世世代代生活在黑土地上的人們(嘍),
在唱著自己的黑土歌.
這塊黑土, 是生我的黑土. 你是那樣濕漉漉, 那樣油乎乎. 依呼呀呼咳!
這塊黑土, 是養我的黑土. 埋著我的血和汗, 淚水和幸福. 依呼呀呼咳!
啦呼--啦呼--咳! 呀呼依呼咳! 呀呼依呼咳! 呀呼依呼咳! 呀呼依呼咳!
The music opens with the mellow, profoundly deep tone colours of the dadi (大笛), thus creating a hollow, deserted feeling. Then the sanxian (三弦) tells a story that takes people to the land with the black earth, very much in the same strain as the narrative singing with the big drum popular in northeastern China. The soloist's soliloquy, heavy, age-worn, tells of the life of the people and their feelings on this patch of land. Many daily items or instruments that the northern Chinese use are incorporated into the music as rhythm instruments. The rather unusual orchestration therefore gives the listeners a refreshingly different experience. The music ends with a unanimous shout from the members of the orchestra. The sound goes straight to the listener's heart with its sheer volume while at the same time leaves a lot of room for imagination.
樂曲開始時低音大笛深沉、悠遠的音色, 予人蒼涼之感. 隨後三弦以敘事性手法, 彈奏出東北大鼓書的韻味, 領人進入黑土地裡. 獨奏者以低沉、蒼老的獨白, 道出了生長在黑土地上的生活感受. 樂曲中使用了北方人生活中常用的器具或樂器作為節奏樂器, 特殊的配器手法, 讓人有耳目一新. 樂曲結尾, 作曲家特別安排了所有樂師共同吶喊聲, 在震撼人心的聲浪中, 給人留下了無限的遐想空間.
Maxwell’s equations are coupled differential equations, but that we can decouple them and see something interesting (what will turn out to be the wave equation) by simply curling, a practice which still survives to this day as an Olympic sport…..
conductor......semiconductor.......superconductor
superconductor at 90 deg
My prof, lecturing on operators and the Dirac system of notation made the following comment: “Operators are lucky: they are represented by matrices. All we've got is politicians!”
My daughter is majoring in biology, but she loves physics jokes. She really loves this joke.
Physicist: We have learned that neutrinos have mass.
Studnet: I did not even know that they were Catholic.
She tells it to all sorts of people and frequently gets blank stares.
So an engineer, physicist, and mathematician are staying in a motel.
Late that night, a fire breaks out in the engineer’s room. He luckily wakes up, sees the fire, and dumps water on it until it’s out. Disaster averted, he returns to bed.
Later that night, a fire breaks out in the physicist’s room. He luckily wakes up, sees the fire, calculates how much water he’ll need, and puts just enough water on it that it goes out. Disaster averted, he returns to bed.
Later still, a fire breaks out in the mathematician’s room. He wakes up, sees the fire, exclaims, “There exists a solution!” and returns to bed.
I’m sure you’ve all heard it, but for the sake of completeness:
Werner Heisenberg was pulled over for speeding. The police officer walked up to the car, leaned in the window and asked, “Do you know how fast you were going?”
Doctor Heisenberg replied: “No, but I know exactly where I was.”
An algebra and number theory lecturer told us that the maths dept had been critisized in their last external assessment exercise for not trying often enough to connect with reality. Thus, he had to give real world examples. Then he “So, imagine an infinite chess board…”
We had to assume spherical potatoes for a P.D.E. question once too.
A hydrogen atom runs into a police station and says “Someone just stole my electron!”
Police officer: “Are you sure?”
Electron:”Yes, I’m positive!”
I heard this joke at a Math awards ceremony and it always cracks me up.
A Physicist was explaining to a Mathematician and Engineer about 9-D spacetime. “How can you imagine 9-D spacetime?” the Engineer asked the Mathematician. Easy, said the Mathematician. “I imagine n-D spacetime and let n tend to 9.”
Why are there no physicists in liberal organizations?
Because they know there is no potential function for a non-conservative force.
… 正如靚仔嫌巴士阿叔講電話大聲,唔同司機投訴,就係都要親自同阿叔”理論”咁 … 亦正如做過屋苑管理既都知,樓上樓下左鄰右里有咩問題(例如噪音),d居民做咩諗都唔諗,就係都要自己走去拍門搵理來論,咁笨、咁費勁?
he had been sure that if Ron won the match, he and Hermione would be friends again immediately. He did not see how he could possibly explain to Hermione that what she had done to offend Ron was kiss Viktor Krum, not when the offense had occurred so long ago.
---HP6
… 正如靚仔嫌巴士阿叔講電話大聲,唔同司機投訴,就係都要親自同阿叔”理論”咁 … 亦正如做過屋苑管理既都知,樓上樓下左鄰右里有咩問題(例如噪音),d居民做咩諗都唔諗,就係都要自己走去拍門搵理來論,咁笨、咁費勁?
懷孕時我才發現丈夫介意他自己的小眼睛,不時說,孩子的眼要像我要像我要像我,不要像他。真傻氣,管他大眼睛小眼睛,我都喜歡我都愛。結果,必必像爸爸,眼睛也是小小的,眼中的盈盈笑意,也像他。這雙眼睛,大小不要緊,那笑意,希望伴他一生。
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