“There will be many efforts in the coming days to derive meaning from Jim’s death. Some will say ISIS had him killed to punish the US for its recent air strikes against them in Iraq, some will say it was to egg the Americans on, and others will attribute it to simple madness. … I would rather derive meaning from Jim’s life. As a journalist, I want to celebrate his dedication to truth and understanding. But that would sell him short. It is clear even just by secondhand accounts from the family that would do anything to help him, even when he insisted on returning to a war zone, and from the friends who were so enriched by knowing him, that Jim’s value was so much more.”
Max Fisher, “On James Foley
wintergrey:

This is James Wright Foley (x and x)
Journalist James Foley was murdered by ISIS militants—the video of his beheading is on the internet now. Please do not watch the video; his fellow journalists are asking that people not watch it or share it or any pictures associated with it.
Be careful browsing Twitter and other sites as the images and video are circulating widely. 

I have learned my lesson, will not follow links to watch video. Horrible enough thinking about it and recalling horrific material like that I was foolish enough to watch before.

As Deadspin’s Barry Petchesky suggested in a Gawker comment thread, consider supporting the international nonprofit Reporters Without Borders. “Among other activities, they provide information and support to journalists in and preparing to enter war zones.”

wintergrey:

This is James Wright Foley (x and x)

Journalist James Foley was murdered by ISIS militants—the video of his beheading is on the internet now. Please do not watch the video; his fellow journalists are asking that people not watch it or share it or any pictures associated with it.

Be careful browsing Twitter and other sites as the images and video are circulating widely. 

I have learned my lesson, will not follow links to watch video. Horrible enough thinking about it and recalling horrific material like that I was foolish enough to watch before. As Deadspin’s Barry Petchesky suggested in a Gawker comment thread, consider supporting the international nonprofit Reporters Without Borders. “Among other activities, they provide information and support to journalists in and preparing to enter war zones.”

laughterkey:

JFK Assassination - Don Pardo

NBC’S first two bulletins on the news were presented by Pardo.

Quite a body of work this man had.

(Source: medium.com)

Stunning.

Stunning.

So taralikesnonsense spotted a black widow on a trash can outside tonight. After we sprayed it and squashed it, she expressed concern about additional such spiders elsewhere around the house. As I held our two-month-old daughter, I looked down at her face and was reminded of a scene from “The Sweet Hereafter”:

Mitchell: I woke to the sound of Zoe’s breathing. It was laboured. I looked over and noticed she was sweating and all swollen. I grabbed her, rushed to the kitchen, and splashed water on her face.
Alison: What happened?
Mitchell: I didn’t know. I was in a panic. I guessed she’d been bitten by an insect, but there was no doctor. The nearest hospital was forty miles away, and Zoe was continuing to swell. Klara took her in her arms and tried to breast-feed her, while I dialed the hospital. I finally got a doctor on the line. He sounded young, but cool. He was confident, but there was a nervousness. He had been an intern. This was the first time he ever had to deal with anything like this. He wanted to seem like he knew what he was doing, but he was just as scared as I was.He surmised that there was a nest of baby black widow spiders in the mattress. He told me they had to be babies, or else with Zoe’s weight she’d be dead. He told me I had to rush her to the hospital. He was alone. There was no ambulance available. ‘Now you listen’, he said, ‘There’s a good chance you can get her to me before her throat closes, but the important thing is to keep her calm.’ He asked if there was one of us she was more relaxed with than the other. I said, ‘Yes, with me.’ Which was true enough, especially at that moment. Klara was wild-eyed with fear, and her fear was contagious. I was a better actor than she was, that’s all. Zoe loved us equally then. Just like she hates us both equally now. The doctor told me that I should hold her in my lap, and let Klara drive to the hospital. He asked me to bring a small, sharp knife. It had to be clean. There was no time to sterilize properly. He explained how to perform an emergency tracheotomy. How to cut into my daughter’s throat and windpipe without causing her to bleed to death. He told me there’d be a lot of blood. I said I didn’t think I could do it. ‘If her throat closes up and stops her breathing, you’ll have to, Mr. Stephens. You’ll have a minute and a half, two minutes maybe, and she’ll probably be you can keep her calm and relaxed, if you don’t let her little heart beat too fast and spread the poison around, then you might just make it over here first. You get going now’, and he hung up.
It was an unforgettable drive. I was divided into two people. One part of me was Daddy, singing a lullaby to his little girl. The other part was a surgeon, ready to cut into her throat. I waited for the second that Zoe’s breath stopped to make that incision.
Alison: What happened?
Mitchell: Nothing. We made it to the hospital. I didn’t have to go as far as I was prepared to. But I was prepared to go all the way.
So taralikesnonsense spotted a black widow on a trash can outside tonight. After we sprayed it and squashed it, she expressed concern about additional such spiders elsewhere around the house. As I held our two-month-old daughter, I looked down at her face and was reminded of a scene from “The Sweet Hereafter”:
Mitchell: I woke to the sound of Zoe’s breathing. It was laboured. I looked over and noticed she was sweating and all swollen. I grabbed her, rushed to the kitchen, and splashed water on her face.

Alison: What happened?

Mitchell: I didn’t know. I was in a panic. I guessed she’d been bitten by an insect, but there was no doctor. The nearest hospital was forty miles away, and Zoe was continuing to swell. Klara took her in her arms and tried to breast-feed her, while I dialed the hospital. I finally got a doctor on the line. He sounded young, but cool. He was confident, but there was a nervousness. He had been an intern. This was the first time he ever had to deal with anything like this. He wanted to seem like he knew what he was doing, but he was just as scared as I was.He surmised that there was a nest of baby black widow spiders in the mattress. He told me they had to be babies, or else with Zoe’s weight she’d be dead. He told me I had to rush her to the hospital. He was alone. There was no ambulance available. ‘Now you listen’, he said, ‘There’s a good chance you can get her to me before her throat closes, but the important thing is to keep her calm.’ He asked if there was one of us she was more relaxed with than the other. I said, ‘Yes, with me.’ Which was true enough, especially at that moment. Klara was wild-eyed with fear, and her fear was contagious. I was a better actor than she was, that’s all. Zoe loved us equally then. Just like she hates us both equally now. The doctor told me that I should hold her in my lap, and let Klara drive to the hospital. He asked me to bring a small, sharp knife. It had to be clean. There was no time to sterilize properly. He explained how to perform an emergency tracheotomy. How to cut into my daughter’s throat and windpipe without causing her to bleed to death. He told me there’d be a lot of blood. I said I didn’t think I could do it. ‘If her throat closes up and stops her breathing, you’ll have to, Mr. Stephens. You’ll have a minute and a half, two minutes maybe, and she’ll probably be you can keep her calm and relaxed, if you don’t let her little heart beat too fast and spread the poison around, then you might just make it over here first. You get going now’, and he hung up. It was an unforgettable drive. I was divided into two people. One part of me was Daddy, singing a lullaby to his little girl. The other part was a surgeon, ready to cut into her throat. I waited for the second that Zoe’s breath stopped to make that incision.

Alison: What happened?

Mitchell: Nothing. We made it to the hospital. I didn’t have to go as far as I was prepared to. But I was prepared to go all the way.

todayinhistory:

August 6th 1945: Hiroshima bombed

On this day in 1945, the first nuclear attack in history occurred when the United States dropped an atomic bomb on the Japanese city of Hiroshima. The American plane Enola Gay dropped the bomb called ‘Little Boy’, which killed around 70,000 people instantly. The effects of the radiation killed thousands more in later years, resulting in a catastrophic death toll of around 140,000 people. Three days later the ‘Fat Man’ bomb was dropped on Nagasaki, resulting in the loss of around 75,000 lives; in both cases, the majority of casualties were civilian. Whilst other Axis powers including Nazi Germany had already surrendered earlier that year, ending the war in the European theatre, Japan had continued to fight the Allied forces. The bombings were therefore deemed necessary by the United States to end the war and avoid a costly invasion of Japan. In the aftermath of the devastating attacks, Japan surrendered to the Allies on 15th August, thus ending the war in the Pacific theatre of World War Two. Today, 69 years on, the atomic-bomb scarred cities of Hiroshima and Nagasaki provide a sharp reminder of the horrors of nuclear warfare.

"My God, what have we done?"
- Enola Gay’s co-pilot Robert Lewis upon seeing the impact

"Enola Gay" pilot Paul W. Tibbets, however, insists he slept "just as peacefully as anybody can sleep.”


The Price is Right is trending in the U.S. this morning… and this is why. Thanks, guy. pic.twitter.com/nIaOwwFVTE
— Jessa (@JessaHochman) August 4, 2014
Grandmother-in-law insisted I wear something to protect my head during trial run with riding lawnmower, gave me this.

Grandmother-in-law insisted I wear something to protect my head during trial run with riding lawnmower, gave me this.

R.I.P. Professor

R.I.P. Professor

Well, I guess we’ve settled what my Christmas wardrobe will be from now until forever.

Well, I guess we’ve settled what my Christmas wardrobe will be from now until forever.

swagsports:

Michelle Beadle might be the only girl on the planet who can talk sports without causing guys to turn around and give the stank face of disappointment. Seriously, she seems like she’d be a blast to hang out with over drinks on a Sunday. Can I get an amen?!

Hero of the day for her response to this atrocity:

So I was just forced to watch this morning’s First Take. A) I’ll never feel clean again B) I’m now aware that I can provoke my own beating.
— Michelle Beadle (@MichelleDBeadle) July 25, 2014

I’m thinking about wearing a miniskirt this weekend…I’d hate to think what I’d be asking for by doing so @stephenasmith. #dontprovoke
— Michelle Beadle (@MichelleDBeadle) July 25, 2014

I was in an abusive relationship once. I’m aware that men & women can both be the abuser. To spread a message that we not ‘provoke’ is wrong
— Michelle Beadle (@MichelleDBeadle) July 25, 2014

Violence isn’t the victim’s issue. It’s the abuser’s. To insinuate otherwise is irresponsible and disgusting. Walk. Away.
— Michelle Beadle (@MichelleDBeadle) July 25, 2014

swagsports:

Michelle Beadle might be the only girl on the planet who can talk sports without causing guys to turn around and give the stank face of disappointment. Seriously, she seems like she’d be a blast to hang out with over drinks on a Sunday. Can I get an amen?!

Hero of the day for her response to this atrocity:

I will never not enjoy this.

I will never not enjoy this.