Who Was Walter Reed?

Walter Reed Army Medical Center in Washington, D.C. cares for thousands of active and retired members of our armed forces. We hear Walter Reed’s name a lot in association with the hospital, but who was he? What did he do to get a hospital named after him?

If you want to get a major hospital named after you, it doesn’t hurt to be a little precocious. Reed certainly was. He graduated from the University of Virginia’s medical school in July 1869, two months shy of his 18th birthday. (He’s still the youngest person to ever complete an M.D. at the school.)

After graduation Reed headed to New York to beef up his clinical expertise, but he hit some roadblocks. Although he was able to get a gig as the assistant sanitary officer for the Brooklyn Board of Health, many potential patients and partners were skeptical of Reed’s medical prowess because of his extremely young age. Reed didn’t care for big city life all that much, either, so he eventually decided to leave civilian life and join the U.S. Army Medical Corps.

Reed officially received his appointment as a first lieutenant in June 1875, and for the next 18 years he and his growing family bounced around the country, including long tours in rugged Western outposts.

They Had a Fever 

By all accounts Reed was a heck of an army doctor, but he really didn’t make his memorable mark until he moved back to Washington in 1893 to take a faculty position at the Army Medical School and a job as the curator of Army Medical Museum. By this time Reed had received extra training in pathology and bacteriology at Johns Hopkins, and he began rigorous research into diseases like yellow fever, typhoid, and cholera.

At the time, typhoid was a real problem for the army. Troops training for and fighting in the 1898 Spanish-American War kept going down to typhoid in squalid army camps. In 1899 Surgeon General George Miller Sternberg sent a team of army doctors headed by Reed to Cuba to study the disease. Reed and his squad of bacteriologists eventually pinpointed the cause of the typhoid outbreaks: fecal bacteria and unclean drinking water.

Reed’s biggest triumph came the following year. After his success investigating typhoid, Surgeon General Sternberg set Reed to the task of investigating the cause of yellow fever. Reed led another team to Cuba to tackle this even trickier disease. Reed eventually began investigating a 20-year-old theory that a Cuban doctor named Carlos Finlay had proposed about mosquitoes spreading yellow fever.

My So Called Life Ver. 2.0

What The Characters From My So Called Life Are Doing Now

Mr. Katimski. The kind teacher who lets Ricky stay with him when Ricky is abandoned by his family, who runs the drama club and who is presumed to sustain special empathy for Ricky because he is also gay. Mr. Katimski has retired from teaching, but continues to coach the drama club in his free time. However, he finds he becomes increasingly bitter and frustrated by the ever-narrowing attention spans, cell phone dependency and soulless party-pop music of today’s teenagers. He loves the TV show ‘Fringe’.

Hallie Lowenthal. The aggressive woman who founded a restaurant with Angela Chase’s father, Graham, and who appeared to enjoy some sexual tension with him. The restaurant enjoyed a five-year run of business until the mounting stress of operating a restaurant began to wear on the partnership. Hallie confessed her long-repressed feelings to Graham as he divested himself from the business at Patty’s insistence. Hallie has not taken the failure of the restaurant well, and now invents reasons to call Graham, such as fictional repairs to her apartment (where she lies on purpose) or made-up ailments (where she believes she is actually ill and freaks out). She and Patty enjoy a terse politesse whenever Patty answers the phone, which Patty now always makes sure to do.

Delia Fisher. The drama club girl who developed a crush on Ricky even while knowing he could not reciprocate, preferring a crush that is ‘safe.’ After experimenting with gothic fashion, light drugs and self-harm at college, Delia experienced a personal revival and moved to New York City in order to become a full-time ‘fag hag’. People believe she is promiscuous despite the fact that she has only had a few occasions of awkward sex with unattractive and vaguely creepy individuals. She appears to be quite happy, however, hosting a local drag night and participating in a DIY independent (read: sad) burlesque revue.

The Bee Station

Last summer, 31-year-old Jamie Hutchison was listening to the radio when an expert from the RSPB (a leading wildlife conservation nonprofit in the United Kingdom) was on the air, responding to several callers' concerns about slow, seemingly sick or tired bees crawling on their lawns.

The expert explained that, due to the decline in the UK’s bee population, the bees that remain are overworked:

Many people keep seeing bees lying on the ground and assume they are dead but chances are they are having a rest. Much like us, a sugary drink could boost their energy levels and a simple sugar and water combination will be a welcome treat.

Hutchison heard this, and worried. "An egg cup full of sugar water is OK," he thought, "but we get a lot of spring and summer showers in the UK (there's more rain than sunshine in our glorious British Summers) and the sugar water will be replaced with regular rain water within a day or two."

He started reading more about bees: their disastrous decline, due to the mysterious Colony Collapse Disorder, their importance to our food supply (if every single bee disappeared, he read, humanity would also die out within four years), and their preferred habitat, which is fast disappearing in our concrete cities and manicured gardens.

And then Hutchison started drawing. His Bee Station is designed to provide an ideal nesting and refuelling site for two species of bee, Bombus pratorum and Bombus horotorum, which nest for 14 weeks.

Modern Poetry Made Less Terrifying

Regular readers of the New York Times Book Review may recognize David Orr as that publication's poetry critic -- assuming they ever look at poetry criticism in the first place. Orr's clear, down-to-earth but never dumbed-down reviews are always a delight to read, but you'll only find that out if you actually read them. Orr knows all too well that many people won't because they assume that contemporary poetry is an impenetrable mystery.

Changing the public's mind about that is beyond the scope of a 1,000-word review in the Sunday newspaper, and so Orr has written "Beautiful and Pointless: A Guide to Modern Poetry." Almost as slim as some of the volumes Orr writes about, it's an introduction to a land with odd customs and gorgeous scenery.

Orr suggests that the curious novice venture into modern poetry the way you'd approach visiting a foreign country (specifically, Belgium): "You might try to learn a few phrases, or read a little Belgian history, or thumb through a guidebook," but "the important thing is that you'd know you were going to be confused, or at least occasionally at a loss, and you'd accept that confusion as part of the process. What you wouldn't do, however, is become paralyzed with anxiety because you don't speak fluent Flemish, or convinced that to really 'get' Belgium, you need to memorize the Brussels phone book."

"Beautiful and Pointless" is a guidebook to the realm of contemporary poetry, and I spoke with Orr recently about the tricky task of introducing his corner of the literary landscape to new visitors.

The Unfriendly Skies

It was a routine day at the Birmingham, England airport in 1990. The British Airways crew had gotten up early to prepare for a trip to Malaga, Spain. About 13 minutes into the flight, flight attendant Nigel Ogden walked into the cockpit to offer the captain Tim Lancaster and co-captain Alistair Atcheson a cup of tea. As he was walking out, the plane was rocked by an explosion. He turned around and this is what he saw, as he told it to the Sydney Morning Herald's Julia Llewellyn Smith.

I whipped round and saw the front windscreen had disappeared and Tim, the pilot, was going out through it. He had been sucked out of his seatbelt and all I could see were his legs. I jumped over the control column and grabbed him round his waist to avoid him going out completely. His shirt had been pulled off his back and his body was bent upwards, doubled over round the top of the aircraft. His legs were jammed forward, disconnecting the autopilot, and the flight door was resting on the controls, sending the plane hurtling down at nearly 650kmh through some of the most congested skies in the world.

Everything was being sucked out of the aircraft: even an oxygen bottle that had been bolted down went flying and nearly knocked my head off. I was holding on for grim death but I could feel myself being sucked out, too. John rushed in behind me and saw me disappearing, so he grabbed my trouser belt to stop me slipping further, then wrapped the captain's shoulder strap around me. Luckily, Alistair, the co-pilot, was still wearing his safety harness from take-off, otherwise he would have gone, too.

The aircraft was losing height so quickly the pressure soon equalised and the wind started rushing in - at 630kmh and -17C. Paper was blowing round all over the place and it was impossible for Alistair to hear air-traffic control. We were spiralling down at 80 feet per second with no autopilot and no radio.

LCD/Plastilina Mosh

[ed. Another installment from our strange/great video series.]

Loosies

[ed.  These used to be sold in liquor stores.  I haven't seen them for a while, but they were poison for people trying to quit smoking]

By 8:30 a.m., amid the procession of sleepy-eyed office workers and addicts from the nearby methadone clinic, Lonnie Loosie plants himself in the middle of the sidewalk on Eighth Avenue in Midtown. Addressing no one in particular, he calls out his one-size-fits-all greeting: “Newports, Newports, packs and loosies.”

Rarely does a minute go by without a customer stopping just long enough to pass a dollar bill to Lonnie Loosie, known to the police by his given name, Lonnie Warner, 50. They clench the two “loosies” — as single cigarettes are called — that he thrusts back in return.

Soon Mr. Warner’s two partners, both younger men, arrive for the day and fan out along the same block. By midmorning, the block to the south is occupied by Carlton, who sells loosies, as does Carlton’s younger brother, Norman, 54.

A few blocks north, another man sells cigarettes near a check-cashing storefront. Add to these a few roving vendors who poach territory when they can.

Itinerant cigarette vendors have long been a fixture in some parts of the city, like bodegas that sell individual cigarettes in violation of state law. But with cigarette prices up and the number of smoke-friendly places down, the black market for loosies is now thriving on the streets.

Shutdown

[ed. Whether the federal government shuts down or not, this article provides a good sense of its services.]

The National Zoo would close, but the lions and tigers would get fed; Yellowstone and other national parks would shut down. The Internal Revenue Service could stop issuing refund checks. Customs and Border Patrol agents training officials in Afghanistan might have to come home. And thousands of government-issued BlackBerrys would go silent.

This is what a government shutdown might look like.

With budget talks between Republicans and Democrats far from resolution, official Washington braced on Tuesday for a replay of the Great Government Shutdowns of 1995 and 1996. For weeks, the Obama administration has been quietly examining the experience of the mid-1990s as a kind of shutdown survival guide. Now those preparations have kicked into high gear.

The White House Office of Management and Budget directed the heads of federal agencies on late Monday to share contingency plans with senior managers. On Capitol Hill, the chairman of the Committee on House Administration warned “nonessential employees” on Tuesday to turn off their BlackBerrys during a shutdown, or risk punishment for working while on furlough.

And at the Smithsonian Institution, employees were preparing for a lot of disappointed tourists. The 1995 and 1996 shutdowns occurred in the dead of winter. Now it is spring break; Linda St. Thomas, a spokeswoman, said the Smithsonian has sold 23,000 advance tickets for cafeteria meals and Imax movies in April. Her staff was prepared to print “Closed Due to Government Shutdown” signs to tape to windows in their museums.

“I got a call yesterday from a woman in Cincinnati; she was bringing a big family, two cars, they were going to drive in from Ohio on Friday,” Ms. St. Thomas said. “She wanted to know, what should she do? I said, ‘I don’t know.’ ”

Freerunning in L.A.

[ed.  I think we used to call this The Neighborhood back in the old days]

The Tempest Freerunning Academy is a new LA-based gym and training facility for freerunners; it's a kind of huge indoor obstacle course filled with whimsy and potential death: "No matter your age, skill, or athletic level, The Freerunning Academy is a place for you to explore the evolution of movement, increase your fitness level, pioneer an ever-growing sport and meet some amazing people in the process."

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The Human Condition

 The Dalai Lama, when asked what surprised him most about humanity, answered, "Man. Because he sacrifices his health in order to make money. Then he sacrifices money to recuperate his health. And then he is so anxious about the future that he does not enjoy the present; the result being that he does not live in the the present or the future; he lives as if he is never going to die, and then dies having never really lived."

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Come As You Are

Kurt Cobain (February 20, 1967 –  April 5, 1994)

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Bank Financed Mexican Drug Trade

[ed.  One more way we've been totally screwed by our banking system.  It really needs massive reform, not just little bites]

On 10 April 2006, a DC-9 jet landed in the port city of Ciudad del Carmen, on the Gulf of Mexico, as the sun was setting. Mexican soldiers, waiting to intercept it, found 128 cases packed with 5.7 tons of cocaine, valued at $100m. But something else – more important and far-reaching – was discovered in the paper trail behind the purchase of the plane by the Sinaloa narco-trafficking cartel.

During a 22-month investigation by agents from the US Drug Enforcement Administration, the Internal Revenue Service and others, it emerged that the cocaine smugglers had bought the plane with money they had laundered through one of the biggest banks in the United States: Wachovia, now part of the giant Wells Fargo.

The authorities uncovered billions of dollars in wire transfers, traveller's cheques and cash shipments through Mexican exchanges into Wachovia accounts. Wachovia was put under immediate investigation for failing to maintain an effective anti-money laundering programme. Of special significance was that the period concerned began in 2004, which coincided with the first escalation of violence along the US-Mexico border that ignited the current drugs war.

Criminal proceedings were brought against Wachovia, though not against any individual, but the case never came to court. In March 2010, Wachovia settled the biggest action brought under the US bank secrecy act, through the US district court in Miami. Now that the year's "deferred prosecution" has expired, the bank is in effect in the clear. It paid federal authorities $110m in forfeiture, for allowing transactions later proved to be connected to drug smuggling, and incurred a $50m fine for failing to monitor cash used to ship 22 tons of cocaine.

More shocking, and more important, the bank was sanctioned for failing to apply the proper anti-laundering strictures to the transfer of $378.4bn – a sum equivalent to one-third of Mexico's gross national product – into dollar accounts from so-called casas de cambio (CDCs) in Mexico, currency exchange houses with which the bank did business.

"Wachovia's blatant disregard for our banking laws gave international cocaine cartels a virtual carte blanche to finance their operations," said Jeffrey Sloman, the federal prosecutor. Yet the total fine was less than 2% of the bank's $12.3bn profit for 2009. On 24 March 2010, Wells Fargo stock traded at $30.86 – up 1% on the week of the court settlement.

The conclusion to the case was only the tip of an iceberg, demonstrating the role of the "legal" banking sector in swilling hundreds of billions of dollars – the blood money from the murderous drug trade in Mexico and other places in the world – around their global operations, now bailed out by the taxpayer.

Shaun Tan

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The Science of Eternity

If humans do not destroy themselves they may spread beyond the earth into a universe that could last almost forever. Life would have tunnelled through its moment of maximum jeopardy.

Over the past few centuries, the earth has aged spectacularly. Its creation has been moved back from 6pm on Saturday, 22nd October, 4004 BC, as calculated by the 17th-century scholar and Archbishop of Armagh, James Ussher, to a time and date some 4.5 billion years earlier. The story of life has been stretched back almost as far, and the story of complex, multicellular life-forms-relative newcomers-has itself been almost a billion years in the making. As a result, the way we see the world has changed profoundly. Not only can we now have some sense of the millions of years it takes to raise and then level mountains, or to open and then close oceans, we also have the clearest evidence of humanity’s absence throughout those ages. To Ussher’s mind, the creation of the world and the creation of humanity were within a week of one another; to our modern minds, the two events are unimaginably far apart. There was a vast absence before us, a physical and biological world untouched by introspection, and its record stares out at us from every rock.

If the earth’s past has been stretched, what of its future? To those of Ussher’s faith, the end of the world was a certainty and to some of his contemporaries history was already nearing its close. Sir Thomas Browne wrote, “the world itself seems in the wane. A greater part of Time is spun than is to come.”

To look forward, we must turn from geology to cosmology. Current cosmology suggests a future that, if not infinite, dwarfs the past as much as the depths of time we now accept dwarf Ussher’s exquisite estimates. What it cannot tell us, though, is whether these vast expanses of time will be filled with life, or as empty as the earth’s first sterile seas. In the aeons that lie ahead, life could spread through the entire galaxy, even beyond it-and outlast it too. But life could also snuff itself out, leaving an eternity as empty as the space between the stars.

Future Goodbye

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New Anti-Stroke Drug

They are describing Pradaxa as the "holy grail" of blood-thinning drugs and the first major pharmacological breakthrough for people at an increased risk of having a stroke in 50 years.

Up to 1.2 million people in Britain live with a condition called atrial fibrillation (AF) - having a quick and irregular heartbeat - which puts them at an increased risk of stroke. The heart condition accounts for 14 per cent of the 150,000 strokes that happen annually, or more than 20,000 a year.

Some 500,000 AF sufferers are currently prescribed the blood-thinning drug warfarin, traditionally used as rat poison.

For 50 years it has been used to lower the risk of a type of stroke caused by blood clots, known as ischaemic stroke, among people with AF.

 
However, patients need regular blood checks to ensure they are receiving the right dosage, as levels that are too high can cause dangerous bleeding. It can also interfere with other drugs like antibiotics, while changes in diet can affect how well it works.

Now updated results of a clinical trial have shown that Pradaxa, also known by its generic name dabigatran etexilate, can reduce the number of strokes by a third compared to using warfarin.

A study of 18,000 people with atrial fibrillation (AF) has found that taking 150mg of Pradaxa daily reduces the risk of stroke by between 30 and 39 per cent, depending on the type of AF.

He said of Pradaxa: "This drug seems to prevent clots better than warfarin but with less bleeding, which is pretty much the holy grail for such drugs."

It works by lessening the effects of thrombin, the protein that controls clotting. 
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Predator: A Smart Camera That Learns

[ed.  A fascinating invention with lots of different applications.  It's delightful to see the Homebrew garage ethic still going strong.]

Get Packing

The New York Times featured the packing strategies of flight-attendant Heather Poole, who frequently lives out of a carry-on for 10 days at a time. With baggage fees higher than ever, knowing how to efficiently pack a carry-on can save you a bunch of money when traveling by air. Here's how to do it.

Like we've suggested before, Heather rolls her clothes to avoid wrinkles and save space. One important note, however, is that she sets those rolls aside rather than packing them as soon as she's created them. She first puts her shoes in the carry-on bag, then starts adding the heavier layers of rolled clothing. She then continues adding clothing in order of heaviest to lightest. For example, pants go in first because they're heavier and larger, then followed by lighter shirts, then topped with undergarments. This order makes it easier for the items to compress when the suitcase closes. Toiletries and other items then go on top as the toiletry bag often contains liquids and needs to be removed quickly for security screenings.

Packing the same items, using other methods, results in an un-closable suitcase. Next time you pack, make sure you roll your clothing and pack from heaviest to lightest in order to easily fit everything you need.

10 Days in a Carry-On | New York Times via Dave Bradford
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The Day the Bear Roared

The larger-than-life bronze sculpture of Jack Nicklaus that stands in the rotunda of the Augusta Museum of History is frozen in a transcendent moment in golf history, one that will reverberate at Augusta National Golf Club this week as Nicklaus’s epic Masters victory from 25 years ago is remembered.

The piece could have been modeled from any of several photographs capturing what happened at the 17th hole late on the Sunday afternoon of April 13, 1986, a split second before Nicklaus — then 46 — first took the lead in what became his 6th and last Masters victory, his record 18th major championship and his 73rd tour win.

It was then that Nicklaus knew his odds of winning had moved from possible to highly probable. The photographs show the change on his face as his last birdie putt of a remarkable final round approached the hole. With soft light from the setting sun streaming onto his face as it broke into a wide grin, Nicklaus bent his knees into a powerful, athletic crouch and raised the putter in his left hand aloft, like a scepter or Excalibur, as he stalked the putt.

Very few of the spine-tingling recollections have faded from that Sunday, the most dramatic final round in the history of Augusta National. There, in front of an ecstatic gallery and what is perennially the largest television audience of the year for a golf tournament, Nicklaus — already written off as washed-up — went ahead and won the Masters.

In addition to the sublime shots that were played — Nicklaus’s soaring 4-iron into the 15th green to 12 feet for eagle, a 5-iron tight to the flagstick at No. 16 — there also were emotional notes that resonated. Curtis Strange, hardly known for his soft side, found himself moved by the sight of Nicklaus, with the second of his four sons, Jackie, on the bag, walking through a dream round.

“I guess the one last impression that I have in my mind is Jackie and Jack walking off the last green together arm in arm,” said Strange, who finished in a tie for 21st that year. “I think as a father, we all can relate to that.”    read more:

All of the Above

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