Weekly Review — January 18, 2011, 12:00 am

Weekly Review

[Image: All In My Eye, December 1853]
An American cattleman.

President Barack Obama, speaking at a memorial service in Arizona for the six killed during Jared Loughner’s shooting spree, urged Americans to be better people. “I want our democracy to be as good as Christina imagined it,” Obama said, referring to 9-year-old victim Christina Taylor Green. “All of us??we should do everything we can to make sure this country lives up to our children??s expectations.” The president then choked up, pausing for 51 seconds. “I had her heart in my hand,” said Dr. Randall Friese, the surgeon who operated on Christina. “We filled it with blood. It still didn??t want to beat. So, it was over. We??re finished.” Sales of Glock semi-automatic pistols, the model of handgun used by Loughner, surged. Four Arizona Republicans resigned from public office, fearing violence from Tea Party activists, and Clear Channel removed a Tucson billboard that described Rush Limbaugh as a “straight shooter.” Gabrielle Giffords opened her eye for the first time since the shooting, and the Safeway where the shooting took place reopened.Washington PostNew York TimesNew York TimesBloombergRaw StoryRaw StoryNew York TimesNew York Times

Tunisian president Zine el-Abidine Ben Ali was forced out of office and replaced by his ally Prime Minister Mohamed Ghannouchi, but within 24 hours the interim government had also been ousted amid violent protests that left dozens dead.New York TimesFloods and mudslides in southeast Brazil killed more than 250 people. “I walked on something soft,” said one survivor, “and saw it was the body of a woman covered in mud. She had her arm over her face like she was trying to protect herself.”The Sydney Morning HeraldAn 11-page paper outlining the U.S. government’s strategy to prevent leaks was leaked.TechspotSecretary of State Hillary Clinton, stopping in Yemen during a Middle East trip meant to placate Arab leaders upset by the release of diplomatic memos, told aides she needed a tour jacket like those worn by roadies, that would have a “big picture of the world and would say The Apology Tour on it.”The IndependentPhoenix Jones, or “The Real Life Superhero,” a man who wears a costume and tries to prevent crime in Seattle, had his nose broken when he tried to come between two men “swearing at each other and, like, about to fight,” and a California family was killed by a downed power line; Steven Vego was electrocuted when he stepped on the wire, followed by his wife, who was trying to save him, followed by their son, who was trying to save his parents. Talking Points MemoABC NewsA British man discovered after shaving his head that 19 years ago his hair-transplant doctor branded his scalp with the word “wanker,” and doctors amputated the right leg of Zsa Zsa Gabor.The SunAssociated Press

Wikipedia turned ten.The Economic TimesAstronomers discovered Cosmos-Aztec3, a fast-growing galaxy cluster that is further away and in an earlier stage of development than any previously known galaxy cluster. “We’re seeing the seeds of a galaxy metropolis,” said astronomer Peter Capak, “a city of galaxies that will eventually grow into a large city like London.”BBCResearchers found that people are more likely to remember details about their first kiss than about losing their virginity, and scientists who watched hours and hours of hermaphroditic worm sex learned that sex shapes sperm. “In the lab they mate like crazy,” said lead scientist Lukas Schärer. “Once, we saw a pair mate 40 times in an hour.”Daily MailNatureA former New York State inmate was seeking compensation for negligence after a rat crawled out of his mattress and bit his penis.Orange NewsA Taiwanese man lost a suit against his neighbors for training their mynah bird to call him “a clueless, big-mouthed idiot” every time the bird saw him; the Cambridge University Union announced plans to invite porn stars to participate in an organized debate; and the “grande dame” of audiobooks, Flo Gibson, died at 86, halfway through the taping of her 1,134th title, Les Misérables.Orange NewsOrange NewsNew York TimesPima County Community College released “Meat Head,” a poem written last spring by Jared Loughner for his poetry class: “Awaking on the first day of school/ Pain of a morning hang over/ Attending a weight lifting class for college credit/ Attempting to exercise since freshman year of high school/ Crawling out of bed and walking to the shower/ Warm water hitting my back/ Eureka.”CNN

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More from Claire Gutierrez:

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Ashley arrived for her prenatal appointment at Black Hills Obstetrics and Gynecology, in Rapid City, South Dakota, wearing a black zip-up hoodie and Converse sneakers.1 To explain her absence from work that morning — a Tuesday in April 2015 — she had told a co-worker that she was having “female issues.” She was twenty-five years old and eight weeks pregnant. She had been separated from her husband, with whom she had a five-year-old son, for the better part of a year. The guy who’d gotten her pregnant was someone she’d met at the gym, and he’d made it abundantly clear that he wanted nothing more to do with her. Ashley found herself hoping that the doctor would discover some kind of fetal defect, so that her decision would be easier. She glanced across the waiting room at a television playing a birth-control ad and laughed darkly. “Jesus, Lord, it would be so nice if someone just pushed me down a flight of stairs.”

In the exam room, she perched on the table with her feet crossed at the ankles, her blond hair brushing the back of her pink hospital gown. “I don’t know what’s available for me here,” she told her doctor, Katherine Degen, who sat facing her on a stool. “I figured nothing.”

 Some names and identifying details have been changed. 

“Big, fat zero, unfortunately,” Degen said, making a 0 with her fingers. The last doctor who provided abortions in Rapid City retired in 1986, three years before Ashley was born.

The baby was due in November, when Ashley, who was a nurse, hoped to be enrolled in a graduate program to become a nurse practitioner. Getting pregnant as a teenager had forced her to put that dream on hold, but she had thought that she was finally ready; she had even submitted her application shortly before the March 15 deadline. For the first time in her adult life, Ashley felt as if her plans were coming together. Then she missed her period.

It would be too difficult to attend school as a single mother of two, Ashley knew. She had made an appointment for three weeks from now at the nearest abortion clinic, in Billings, Montana, 318 miles away. But just a week and a half ago, her husband had said he wanted to get back together and offered to raise the child as his own. Was it a sign that she was meant to continue the pregnancy? As a rule, Ashley approached her problems with resolve. She was capable and tough; she liked shooting guns and lifting weights. She kept track of her stats and checked off her goals as she achieved them one by one. Yet the dilemma before her had shaken her confidence. She leaned back and turned to watch the ultrasound screen. The black-and-white image danced. A sharp, fast thumping emerged from the machine. As Degen removed the wand, Ashley wiped the corner of her eye.

Photograph (detail) by Brian Frank
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Ashley arrived for her prenatal appointment at Black Hills Obstetrics and Gynecology, in Rapid City, South Dakota, wearing a black zip-up hoodie and Converse sneakers.1 To explain her absence from work that morning — a Tuesday in April 2015 — she had told a co-worker that she was having “female issues.” She was twenty-five years old and eight weeks pregnant. She had been separated from her husband, with whom she had a five-year-old son, for the better part of a year. The guy who’d gotten her pregnant was someone she’d met at the gym, and he’d made it abundantly clear that he wanted nothing more to do with her. Ashley found herself hoping that the doctor would discover some kind of fetal defect, so that her decision would be easier. She glanced across the waiting room at a television playing a birth-control ad and laughed darkly. “Jesus, Lord, it would be so nice if someone just pushed me down a flight of stairs.”

In the exam room, she perched on the table with her feet crossed at the ankles, her blond hair brushing the back of her pink hospital gown. “I don’t know what’s available for me here,” she told her doctor, Katherine Degen, who sat facing her on a stool. “I figured nothing.”

 Some names and identifying details have been changed. 

“Big, fat zero, unfortunately,” Degen said, making a 0 with her fingers. The last doctor who provided abortions in Rapid City retired in 1986, three years before Ashley was born.

The baby was due in November, when Ashley, who was a nurse, hoped to be enrolled in a graduate program to become a nurse practitioner. Getting pregnant as a teenager had forced her to put that dream on hold, but she had thought that she was finally ready; she had even submitted her application shortly before the March 15 deadline. For the first time in her adult life, Ashley felt as if her plans were coming together. Then she missed her period.

It would be too difficult to attend school as a single mother of two, Ashley knew. She had made an appointment for three weeks from now at the nearest abortion clinic, in Billings, Montana, 318 miles away. But just a week and a half ago, her husband had said he wanted to get back together and offered to raise the child as his own. Was it a sign that she was meant to continue the pregnancy? As a rule, Ashley approached her problems with resolve. She was capable and tough; she liked shooting guns and lifting weights. She kept track of her stats and checked off her goals as she achieved them one by one. Yet the dilemma before her had shaken her confidence. She leaned back and turned to watch the ultrasound screen. The black-and-white image danced. A sharp, fast thumping emerged from the machine. As Degen removed the wand, Ashley wiped the corner of her eye.

Artwork by Imre Kinszki © Imre Kinszki Estate
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The Lords of Lambeau·

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Ashley arrived for her prenatal appointment at Black Hills Obstetrics and Gynecology, in Rapid City, South Dakota, wearing a black zip-up hoodie and Converse sneakers.1 To explain her absence from work that morning — a Tuesday in April 2015 — she had told a co-worker that she was having “female issues.” She was twenty-five years old and eight weeks pregnant. She had been separated from her husband, with whom she had a five-year-old son, for the better part of a year. The guy who’d gotten her pregnant was someone she’d met at the gym, and he’d made it abundantly clear that he wanted nothing more to do with her. Ashley found herself hoping that the doctor would discover some kind of fetal defect, so that her decision would be easier. She glanced across the waiting room at a television playing a birth-control ad and laughed darkly. “Jesus, Lord, it would be so nice if someone just pushed me down a flight of stairs.”

In the exam room, she perched on the table with her feet crossed at the ankles, her blond hair brushing the back of her pink hospital gown. “I don’t know what’s available for me here,” she told her doctor, Katherine Degen, who sat facing her on a stool. “I figured nothing.”

 Some names and identifying details have been changed. 

“Big, fat zero, unfortunately,” Degen said, making a 0 with her fingers. The last doctor who provided abortions in Rapid City retired in 1986, three years before Ashley was born.

The baby was due in November, when Ashley, who was a nurse, hoped to be enrolled in a graduate program to become a nurse practitioner. Getting pregnant as a teenager had forced her to put that dream on hold, but she had thought that she was finally ready; she had even submitted her application shortly before the March 15 deadline. For the first time in her adult life, Ashley felt as if her plans were coming together. Then she missed her period.

It would be too difficult to attend school as a single mother of two, Ashley knew. She had made an appointment for three weeks from now at the nearest abortion clinic, in Billings, Montana, 318 miles away. But just a week and a half ago, her husband had said he wanted to get back together and offered to raise the child as his own. Was it a sign that she was meant to continue the pregnancy? As a rule, Ashley approached her problems with resolve. She was capable and tough; she liked shooting guns and lifting weights. She kept track of her stats and checked off her goals as she achieved them one by one. Yet the dilemma before her had shaken her confidence. She leaned back and turned to watch the ultrasound screen. The black-and-white image danced. A sharp, fast thumping emerged from the machine. As Degen removed the wand, Ashley wiped the corner of her eye.

Photograph (detail) by Balazs Gardi
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"She glanced across the waiting room at a television playing a birth-control ad and laughed darkly. 'Jesus, Lord, it would be so nice if someone just pushed me down a flight of stairs.'"
Photograph (detail) by Lara Shipley

Tons of hair Poland exports annually to West Germany in exchange for barber equipment:

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Alcoholic mice who are forced to stop drinking no longer try to swim when placed in a beaker of water, perhaps indicating that the mice are depressed.

One of the United Kingdom’s largest landlords published guidelines banning “battered wives” and plumbers, among others, from renting his more than 1,000 properties. “It’s just economics,” he said.

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