The need for an ambitious and forward-looking Canadian international strategy has never been greater. The worldwide changes that jeopardize Canadian security and prosperity are profound, ranging from the globalization of commerce, crime, and political extremism to the impact of climate change on the economy and environment. The reaction from Canada’s policymakers, at least so far, has been underwhelming. In The World Won’t Wait, some of Canada’s brightest thinkers respond. Covering both classic foreign policy issues such as international security, human rights, and global institutions and emerging issues like internet governance, climate change, and sustainable development, their essays offer fresh and provocative responses to today’s challenges and opportunities. The proposals are striking and the contributors diverse: Toronto’s chief city planner makes the case that Canada needs a global urban agenda, while a prominent mining executive explains how to revitalize the country’s position as a world leader in the sector. Their essays are sure to spark the kind of debate that Canada requires if its international policy is to evolve into the twenty-first century.

Poetry embalms our wounds and shines new light into ordinary lives. People have turned to its powers since time immemorial when both science and the heavens fail to console. The Night Won't Wait is a collection of contemporary poems in the sense that they deal with the Great Pause, as we have termed our condition. But they are universal in the sense that they raise fundamental questions about our entire species, taking the pandemic as a take-off point.

Everybody waits, but nobody likes to wait. Waiting feels like a waste of time, an unnecessary exercise in patience, or a foreboding sense that something bad is about to happen. More than we realize, we have grown accustomed to filling our desires instantaneously, and we have taught ourselves to miss out on one of the most rewarding exercises in all of life. The Bible has much to say about waiting. Commands, encouragements, examples, and promises for waiting saturate God's Word. To wait on God is to entrust ourselves to His perfect care, to apply faith in the midst of unchanging circumstances, to trust God's plan over time, and to eagerly anticipate future realities which are being perfectly prepared for us. The reward of waiting is immeasurable joy in God. He dispenses all good things to His children according to His infinite resources and His flawless timing. Waiting on God fuels our pilgrimage through this life, kindles our affections for eternal realities, bolsters our fight against sin, disarms our hearts' idols, and best of all, culminates in our being forever in the presence of our great, glorious, and gracious God.

This study looks at the preservation process: newsreel, television, and color preservation; the often controversial issue of colorization; and commercial film archives. It provides detailed histories of the major players in the preservation battle including the International Museum of Photography at George Eastman House, the American Film Institute, the Museum of Modern Art, the UCLA Film and Television Archive, and the Library of Congress. This first historical overview of film preservation in the United States is also highly controversial in its exposure and criticism of the politicization of film preservation in recent years, and the rising bureaucracy which has often lost sight of preservation and restoration as the ultimate purpose of film archives.

This study looks at the preservation process: newsreel, television, and color preservation; the often controversial issue of colorization; and commercial film archives. It provides detailed histories of the major players in the preservation battle including the International Museum of Photography at George Eastman House, the American Film Institute, the Museum of Modern Art, the UCLA Film and Television Archive, and the Library of Congress. This first historical overview of film preservation in the United States is also highly controversial in its exposure and criticism of the politicization of film preservation in recent years, and the rising bureaucracy which has often lost sight of preservation and restoration as the ultimate purpose of film archives.

I'm on a train. I don't know which stop I got on at; I only know the train is going fast and the world outside becomes a blur. I should get off, but I don't. The universe is playing a cosmic joke on me. Here I had my life—a good life with everything a woman could want—and suddenly, there is something more I didn't know I could have. A chance for me to be satisfied and content and maybe even on occasion deliriously, amazingly, exuberantly happy. So this is where I am, on a train that's out of control, and I am not just a passenger. I'm the one shoveling the furnace full of coal to keep it going fast and faster. If I could make myself believe it all happened by chance and I couldn't help it, that I've been swept away, that it's not my fault, that it's fate…would that be easier? The truth is, I didn't know I was looking for this until I found Will, but I must've been, all this time. And now it is not random, it is not fate, it is not being swept away. This is my choice. And I don't know how to stop. Or even if I want to.