Word: frosted
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During their winter months of June, July and August, Brazilian coffeegrowers observe a time-honored ritual: they spread rumors of crop-killing frosts in hopes of pushing up coffee prices on commodity exchanges. Hence there was nothing out of the ordinary about reports of a "White Friday" last month -except that this time the stories turned out to be true. For the first time since 1943, snow fell in the southern state of Paraná, which produces half of Brazil's coffee. In neighboring São Paulo state, frost damaged 50% to 70% of the coffee trees...
...would be a triumph of panic over economic logic. The snow and frost did not change estimates that Brazil's 1975-76 coffee crop will total 21 million bags, because they damaged only the future ability of coffee trees to bear berries, not the berries hanging on the trees now. Production will indeed drop during the following two crop years; it might be cut in half during 1976-77. Still, no major shortage looks likely. Brazil has reserves of 21 million bags that could be sold to keep exports close to normal levels over the next three years, until...
This verdict would delight the Pythons. They have done their best to remove themselves from boring reality and construct something far more pleasurable. It was in a London pub in 1969 that John Cleese and Graham Chapman, gagwriters for the Frost Report, teamed up with Michael Palin, Terry Jones and Eric Idle, similarly disaffected writers from Britain's then booming satire business. They decided to start their own program. The BBC did not balk when told that the show would be "anarchic and free." Recalls Cleese: "They thought they were getting another latenight satire show. It wasn...
When Robert Frost was given an honorary degree at Oxford University a few years ago, he stopped in Ireland to receive the same honor from the University of Ireland. Frost met Austin Clarke, earlier a very promising Irish poet who, through too many years of personal anguish, had lost his touch. But Frost was anxious to talk with Clarke, and taking him aside, they spent several hours together, Clarke later said that Frost asked him what kind of verse he wrote and uncertain of the proper answer he blurted out. "I load myself with chains...
...Good lord!" exclaimed Frost, "you can't have many readers." In fact, Clarke's readership was never impressive and rarely extended beyond the shores of his homeland. Yet until his death last year at the age of 78. Austin Clarke had claim to the grandest title of the richest language in the world: Ireland's greatest living poet. It was not a claim that went unchallenged, for some maintain that Thomas Kinsella had and continues to hold the title hands down. But since W.B. Yeats's death in 1939, Clarke was Ireland's unofficial poet laureate. The Collected Poems...