Weekly Review — December 17, 2013, 8:00 am

Weekly Review

The Ukrainian protests rage on, Nelson Mandela is buried, and China sends a Jade Rabbit into the Bay of Rainbows

Harper's Magazine, June 1883In Kiev, a third week of protests began over the failure by Ukrainian president Viktor Yanukovich to enter into political and trade agreements with the European Union, and to avoid economic rapprochement with Russia. An estimated 200,000 demonstrators gathered in Independence Square to argue for greater engagement with Europe, tens of thousands of anti-E.U. protesters were bussed into nearby European Square, the European Union withdrew from negotiations with the Ukrainian government, and riot police dismantled barricades set up by protesters, then built new ones to separate the opposing factions. “On this side of our ice wall you have Yanukovich’s regime of slavery and corruption,” said a plumber. “On our side, life is beautiful.” “We have a lot of bread and lemons,” said a college student.[1][2][3][4][5][6][7][8] A riot took place in Singapore for the first time since 1969, and in Thailand, where former prime minister Abhisit Vejjajiva was charged with murder, wealthy citizens were joining rallies against the government of Yingluck Shinawatra, whose supporters are largely rural and poor. “I’m not really for democracy,” said energy-drink tycoon Petch Osathanugrah.[9][10][11][12] North Korea executed an uncle of Supreme Leader Kim Jong Un and accused him of distributing pornography, failing to clap with sufficient enthusiasm, and sabotaging a monument by having it erected in the shade. “Jang pretended to uphold the party and leader,” said the state-run Korean Central News Agency, “but was engrossed in such factional acts as dreaming different dreams.”[13][14][15][16] At a memorial for former South African president Nelson Mandela in Johannesburg, a sign-language interpreter translated 17 speeches using random hand gestures. “I had a breakdown,” he said. “I see angels come from sky to the ground.” Mandela’s body was transported to his childhood village of Qunu and laid to rest.[17][18][19]

Residents of Newtown, Connecticut, chose not to hold a public ceremony to commemorate the one-year anniversary of a shooting that killed 20 children and seven adults at Sandy Hook Elementary School. “If we build it, they will come,” said Newtown first selectman E. Patricia Llodra. “So we have to not build it.”[20][21] Students at Arapahoe High School in Centennial, Colorado, held a candlelight vigil for Claire Davis, who was in a coma after being shot in the head by an 18-year-old classmate who subsequently killed himself. [22][23] A Georgia high school student was suspended for a year for hugging his teacher, and a Madison, Wisconsin, business that offered “therapeutic cuddling” for $60 an hour closed after three weeks in operation.[24][25] Chinese hackers were reported to have breached the networks of several European foreign ministries by sending emails advertising nude photos of former French first lady Carla Bruni-Sarkozy; France’s senate approved a law allowing officials to monitor citizens’ digital communications in real time; and it was revealed that the U.S. National Security Agency had deployed agents to search for terrorists in the online video game World of Warcraft.[26][27][28] Uruguay became the first country to legalize the cultivation, sale, and consumption of marijuana. “[The decision] relied on rather precarious and unsubstantiated assumptions,” said U.N. International Narcotics Control Board president Raymond Yans. “Tell that old man to stop lying,” said Uruguayan president José Mujica.[29][30][31] The mayor of Bogotá was removed from office over allegations he had mismanaged a shift from privatized garbage collection to a government-run service.[32] Canada Post announced that it would phase out home delivery over the next five years, and apologized for returning a six-year-old’s letter to Santa Claus because he had addressed it to “theNorthPowle.”[33][34]

Subscribe to the Weekly Review newsletter. Don’t worry, we won’t sell your email address!

Prince Henry of Wales reached the South Pole, and American scientists announced that they had recorded the lowest temperature ever measured on Earth, –137 degrees Fahrenheit, along an East Antarctic plateau.[35][36] Google acquired robots named BigDog, WildCat, Atlas, and Cheetah.[37] Iran announced that it had sent a monkey named Fargam into space, the Jovian moon of Europa was shown to be spouting plumes of water taller than Mount Everest, and China debarked the rover Jade Rabbit onto the moon’s Bay of Rainbows.[38][39][40] Oslo added hot-pink decals reading “poo, piss, toilet paper” to its manhole covers.[41] Paleontologists determined that ichthyosaurs were incapable of slurping their prey, and that Edmontosaurus regalis had a cock-like comb. “There is a long and sad history of neglect,” said a researcher, “in the study of dinosaur skin.”[42][43] A study led by a physician at Imperial College London posited that Gollum would have defeated Bilbo Baggins in J. R. R. Tolkien’s The Hobbit had he sunned himself more often or eaten quiche instead of blind fish. “The triumph of good over evil,” the study concluded, “may be assisted to some extent by poor diet and lack of sunlight.”[44]


Sign up and get the Weekly Review delivered to your inbox every Tuesday morning.

Share
Single Page

More from Stephanie McFeeters:

Weekly Review December 30, 2016, 3:50 pm

Weekly Review

The U.N. Security Council condemns the construction of Israeli settlements in the West Bank, an ordained Pagan priest receives permission to wear goat horns in his driver’s license photo, and snow falls in the Saharan town of Ain Sefra for the first time in 40 years.

Weekly Review November 8, 2016, 11:49 am

Weekly Review

The Ku Klux Klan endorses Donald Trump, the FBI says Hillary Clinton won’t be prosecuted, and Americans pick their next president

Weekly Review September 20, 2016, 12:34 pm

Weekly Review

A homemade bomb explodes under a dumpster in New York City, Donald Trump admits U.S. president Barack Obama was born in America, and a fertility doctor in Indiana is accused of artificially inseminating his patients with his own sperm

Get access to 165 years of
Harper’s for only $45.99

United States Canada

CATEGORIES

THE CURRENT ISSUE

January 2017

A Window To The World

= Subscribers only.
Sign in here.
Subscribe here.

Mourning in America

= Subscribers only.
Sign in here.
Subscribe here.

The Monument Wars

= Subscribers only.
Sign in here.
Subscribe here.

The Trouble with Defectors

= Subscribers only.
Sign in here.
Subscribe here.

Over the River

= Subscribers only.
Sign in here.
Subscribe here.

House Hunters Transnational

= Subscribers only.
Sign in here.
Subscribe here.

view Table Content

FEATURED ON HARPERS.ORG

Post
Illustration (detail) by Lincoln Agnew
Article
Over the River·

= Subscribers only.
Sign in here.
Subscribe here.

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
Article
A Window To The World·

= Subscribers only.
Sign in here.
Subscribe here.

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
Article
The Lords of Lambeau·

= Subscribers only.
Sign in here.
Subscribe here.

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
Article
With Child·

= Subscribers only.
Sign in here.
Subscribe here.

"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.

Subscribe to the Weekly Review newsletter. Don’t worry, we won’t sell your email address!

HARPER’S FINEST

Who Goes Nazi?

= Subscribers only.
Sign in here.
Subscribe here.

By

"It is an interesting and somewhat macabre parlor game to play at a large gathering of one’s acquaintances: to speculate who in a showdown would go Nazi. By now, I think I know. I have gone through the experience many times—in Germany, in Austria, and in France. I have come to know the types: the born Nazis, the Nazis whom democracy itself has created, the certain-to-be fellow-travelers. And I also know those who never, under any conceivable circumstances, would become Nazis."

Subscribe Today