Every Friday we take a look back at the week’s headlines, centering on a theme we’ve singled out as particularly important. While “interesting” is diluted and obscured to the point of redundancy, “epic” continues to diminish in stature. Meanwhile, “unexpected” lurks in quiet inescapability. Amid all the hyperbole, it was the unexpected that caused us to pause for thought this week.
Liberals recognize the real problems facing the poor, the hardships resulting from economic globalization and the socially destructive force of increasing inequality.
I think it’s better to illuminate shit and learn about it than to opinionate about it:
I don’t have any political opinions, I just am very curious. And it’s very interesting to listen to what people say
Researchers “cloak” a three-dimensional object with microwaves, rendering it invisible:
Cloaking in visible light, hiding more complex shapes and materials—that is, a cloak of Harry Potter qualities—remains distant, but Prof Alu pointed out that the steps in the meantime will be put to use.
No matter what Gingrich says, space sex is probably not a good idea:
…the consensus appears to be that space sex would be supremely difficult -- and pretty lousy -- for a variety of reasons
Most important, American taxes are not sufficient to pay for the programs that many people want, like Medicare, Social Security, road construction and education subsidies.
“My teacher called me out, and said, ‘You don’t have an open heart.’ She basically guilted me into staying.”
It’s the same result scientists get when they plot the magnitude of earthquakes against the number of times each magnitude has occurred—and the same goes for a variety of natural phenomena.
Federal prescription drug sting, with help of con-artist, cost Google $500 million:
…it’s worth asking why Google was given the opportunity to settle such serious charges against it by writing a check
Why scientists should not be science journalists:
The purpose of a headline is not to tell the story. That’s the purpose of the story.
Twitter sexts from poet Patricia Lockwood:
I play Whac-A-Mole and all the moles let me whac them. They rise up to meet me, they desire nothing more than to be whac.