Weekly Review — July 16, 2012, 5:08 pm

Weekly Review

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Journalists uncovered Bain Capital securities filings identifying G.O.P. presidential candidate Mitt Romney as the head of the company until 2002—three years longer than he has previously claimed. If the filings are accurate, Romney would have controlled the investment firm during a controversial period when several companies it managed went bankrupt and others laid off thousands of employees. “Either Mitt Romney, through his own words and his own signature, was misrepresenting his position at Bain to the SEC, which is a felony,” said Obama deputy campaign manager Stephanie Cutter, “or he was misrepresenting his position at Bain to the American people to avoid responsibility for some of the consequences of his investments.” Romney—who, according to one of his campaign advisers, “retired retroactively” from Bain in 2002—called on Obama to apologize for Cutter’s remarks. “It’s disgusting, it’s demeaning,” said Romney. “Stop whining,” said Chicago mayor Rahm Emanuel. “What are you going to do when the Chinese leader says something to you or Putin says something to you? Going to whine it away?”[1][2][3][4][5] Members of Congress sparred over an Obama Administration proposal to increase taxes only on those making more than $250,000 a year, Romney was booed during a speech before a convention of the NAACP in which he said he’d be better than Obama for black Americans, and elected officials were indignant over the revelation that Ralph Lauren’s U.S. Olympic uniforms were manufactured in China. “I think they should take all the uniforms,” said Senate Majority Leader Harry Reid (D., Nev.), “put them in a big pile and burn them and start all over again.”[6][7][8][9] Phoenix, a golden eaglet who survived the massive Utah “Dump Fire” in June, was reportedly clawing his handlers as they gave him antibiotics. “He’s not grateful,” said one.[10]

More than a hundred people were killed in a Syrian military attack on a small farming community near Hama, and the Red Cross classified the country’s conflict as a civil war.[11] U.S. secretary of state Hillary Clinton met with Field Marshal Mohamed Tantawi in Cairo, in an attempt to convince Egypt’s military to cede political control of the country to civilians and to ease tensions with President Mohamed Morsi. Egypt “is for all Egyptians, not for a certain group,” said Tantawi hours after Clinton’s departure. “The armed forces will not allow that.”[12] The painter of a mural at Penn State University covered up the halo he’d drawn over the head of late football coach Joe Paterno following new revelations about Paterno’s role in covering up the sexual abuse of minors by former assistant coach Jerry Sandusky. “Sue Paterno had been quoted as saying [her husband] was not a saint,” said Michael Pilato. “That made this difficult decision easier for me to execute.”[13][14] Hans Kristian Rausing, the billionaire heir to the Tetra Pak drink-carton fortune, was arrested on drug-possession charges, then rearrested for the murder of his wife, Eva, whose body may have lain in the couple’s London mansion for a week before detectives found it.[15] A Michigan woman came under investigation after police discovered the neatly dressed body of her companion, who was thought to have died in December 2010, sitting in a living-room chair. “It’s not that I’m heartless,” said the woman, who would talk to the corpse while watching NASCAR. “I didn’t want to be alone. He was the only guy who was ever nice to me.”[16][17] In India, the village of Asara banned love marriages.[18]

Swedish public-relations agency Studio Total released 90 minutes of footage documenting its airdrop of a thousand teddy bears over the Belarusian town of Ivyanets in a display of solidarity with pro-democracy groups. “I think that when this gets out enough,” said the plane’s pilot, “there will be changes in the Belarusian government.”[19][20] Scientists determined that hornworm caterpillars metabolize more efficiently when eating in the presence of predators, and that the sex ornaments of male swordtail characins appear to females like food.[21][22] Veterinarians were baffled by the deaths of 512 well-fed Magellanic penguins found on the beaches of southern Brazil, and Joschka the ostrich, who was to portray the bird who pulls Josephine Baker in a reenactment of a famous 1926 photograph taken outside Berlin’s Hotel Adlon, died on a German circus farm after colliding with Henry the South American nandu.[23][24] A middle-aged man assaulted an 18-year-old woman by sucking her big toe in a Georgia Walmart, and 29 Papua New Guineans were arrested for cannibalizing the brains and penises of high-priced witch doctors who had been demanding sex, in addition to money, pigs, and bags of rice, as payment for black-magic services. “It’s against our traditional ethics and morals,” explained a local cult leader, “for a sorcerer to have intercourse with a man’s wife or teenage daughter.”[25][26]

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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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A Window To The World·

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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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With Child·

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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

Price of ten pencils made from “recycled twigs,” from the Nature Company:

$39.50

A loggerhead turtle in a Kobe aquarium at last achieved swimming success with her twenty-seventh set of prosthetic fins. “When her children hatch,” said the aquarium’s director, “well, I just feel that would make all the trauma in her life worthwhile.”

In Colombia, U.N. delegates sent to serve as impartial observers of the peace process aimed at ending the half-century-long war between the FARC and the Colombian government were chastised after they were filmed dancing and getting drunk with FARC fighters at a New Year’s Eve party.

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