![theatlantic:
A Congo Mother Survives Cannibalism to Save Her Children
We don’t know much about Maria. A photographer named Marcus Bleasdale met her in the Democratic Republic of Congo in August of 2003. She was breastfeeding one of her three children, resting the infant’s head on her good arm. Her other arm ends at the elbow, where it’s capped by a fresh cast that reads “31/8,” probably meaning that it can be removed on August 31. Her older son is also in the frame, bandages dangling from his scalp.
Maria told the photorapher that she lost the limb defending her children from one of the militant groups then terrorizing Ituri province, her home. Soldiers hacked it off at the elbow and ate the flesh. Maria does not say if the soldiers forced her to watch as they cooked and consumed her arm, but she would not have been the first in Ituri’s war. When the sub-conflict of the Congolese Civil War peaked from 1999 to 2003, stories of cannibalism started to trickle out.
Stories like Maria’s, and the larger Congolese conflict of which it was a part, are something we still talk about today. An art exhibit, meant to raise awareness, is currently shuttling Maria’s photo around the globe, showing it and others to people in the highest levels of government. But the reasons we talk about Maria are nearly as complicated as the story itself, which is now mostly over, and risks over-simplifying our understanding as much as aiding it.
Read more. [Image: Marcus Bleasdale, VII]](http://24.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_m33mpt7uJG1qcokc4o1_500.jpg)
A Congo Mother Survives Cannibalism to Save Her Children
We don’t know much about Maria. A photographer named Marcus Bleasdale met her in the Democratic Republic of Congo in August of 2003. She was breastfeeding one of her three children, resting the infant’s head on her good arm. Her other arm ends at the elbow, where it’s capped by a fresh cast that reads “31/8,” probably meaning that it can be removed on August 31. Her older son is also in the frame, bandages dangling from his scalp.
Maria told the photorapher that she lost the limb defending her children from one of the militant groups then terrorizing Ituri province, her home. Soldiers hacked it off at the elbow and ate the flesh. Maria does not say if the soldiers forced her to watch as they cooked and consumed her arm, but she would not have been the first in Ituri’s war. When the sub-conflict of the Congolese Civil War peaked from 1999 to 2003, stories of cannibalism started to trickle out.
Stories like Maria’s, and the larger Congolese conflict of which it was a part, are something we still talk about today. An art exhibit, meant to raise awareness, is currently shuttling Maria’s photo around the globe, showing it and others to people in the highest levels of government. But the reasons we talk about Maria are nearly as complicated as the story itself, which is now mostly over, and risks over-simplifying our understanding as much as aiding it.
Read more. [Image: Marcus Bleasdale, VII]
Those at the top of the pecking order have the least stressful and most healthy lives. Cardiac arrest—and, indeed, early death from any cause—is the prerogative of underlings.
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| — | Low social status is bad for your health. Biologists are starting to understand why. (via theeconomist) |
Lollipops turn into cigarettes. The innocent ones turn into sluts. Homework goes in the trash. Mobile phones are being used in class. Detention becomes suspension. Soda becomes vodka. Bikes become cars. Kisses turn into sex. Remember when getting high meant swinging on the playground? When protection meant wearing a helmet? When the worst things you could get from boys were cooties? Dad’s shoulders were the highest place on earth and mum was your hero? Your worst enemy was your siblings. Race issues were about who ran the fastest. War was only a card game. And the only drug you knew was cough medicine. When wearing a skirt didn’t make you a slut. The most pain you felt was when you skinned your knees, and goodbyes meant until tomorrow? And we couldn’t wait to grow up…
Say it isn’t so! Humanity’s closest relative on planet earth, the bonobo, is nearing the brink of extinction.
The wild population of bonobos, a promiscuous species of ape that shares more genes with humans than any other animal, is falling so dramatically that scientists have classified them as endangered. They live exclusively in the jungles of the Democratic Republic of Congo in central Africa.
Though bonobos have sex more or less constantly, they have not multiplied enough to keep up with their falling numbers. The problem stems from a combination of low fertility in the species, the animals being hunted for their meat and people stealing their babies to keep as pets.
Because of the political tumult in the region, it’s difficult for scientists to get a full understanding of the crisis.
The American occupation of Afghanistan has, at least by most conventional measurements, lasted longer than our disaster in Vietnam. The original rationale for military operations—the decimation of Al Qaeda to the point of irrelevance—was accomplished long ago, yet nearly 90,000 American soldiers are still tramping across Afghan farms and hillsides and dusty streets in a vain attempt at nation-building. We have spent hundreds of billions of dollars in that effort, with painfully evident results: the government of Afghanistan is virtually nonexistent outside its shaky grip on Kabul.
A decade ago, few Afghans mourned the overthrow of the oppressive Taliban regime. Yet now, after a US occupation that has empowered warlords, fueled ethnic and tribal differences, and enriched a corrupt officialdom, the Taliban have rebounded, especially in the Pashtun south and east, where they have easy resupply from safe havens across the border under the protection of Pakistan’s army and intelligence services.
In the past six months things have taken a poisonous turn, as the long-building mutual resentment between the Afghan people and the US military has broken out in the open. This has provided an unexpected gift to Taliban recruiters and further undermined President Obama’s Afghan policy.
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| — | Time to Get Out of Afghanistan (via ryking) |
[Flash 9 is required to listen to audio.]
I just wanted to be at peace with you, and if I gotta settle for a piece of you then I gotta say Peace to you
With all due respect, I do respect you enough to expect
Effort is all I ask
If we’re gonna last more I gotta ask for more
And if that means I’m asking for too much, I’m sure we’ll end up as our last
Or
Past
We bash
We blast
We shoot
We lose
We pass
The War
A heart was meant to beat. And air was meant to be breathed, close to your ear. And your skin was meant to remember what mine felt like. And some songs were meant to play on repeat. And the sun was meant to come down. And we were meant to ignore it when it woke up. And days were meant to pass. And nights were meant to follow. And your eyes were meant to cry out whatever pain was left.
And I never meant to hurt you.
But I guess that’s what everyone says.
