The qasida is a formal multithematic ode addressed to a member of the elite in praise.

And she appeared before the lieutenantess and respectfully requested to know her wishes, taking care not to seem to recognize her, or else to humble herself before her as a personage of vastly greater consequence than the servant who used to take the marquis’s little dogs out to walk.

The little M.E.’s man nodded, picked his bag off the deck and went back up the steps to the pier.

Networks continue their suicidal ways, serving up this flash in the pan dreck, and your attention to it is nothing less than Kevorkianesque.