Mail-Order Abortions Are Now Available in the U.S. What Does That Mean for American Women?

A well-established abortion-by-mail provider is expanding its services to the United States, the Atlantic reported on Thursday. Women on Web, run by Dutch doctor Rebecca Gomperts, has provided remote consultations, prescriptions, and pills to patients seeking abortions since 2006. But until now, Gomperts has never operated in the U.S., fearing the powerful pro-life lobby’s impact on her international service. Now, she’s started Aid Access, a spinoff of Women on Web that provides American women with mifepristone and misoprostol—a drug combination widely used for early-term abortions...

Aid Access combines the two: A physician is available to talk through the procedure, and can prescribe and ship you the drugs. Also, the drugs only cost $95 (with a sliding scale for patients who can’t afford it), and they show up directly at your home.

—Emma Sarappo, “Mail-Order Abortions Are Now Available in the U.S. What Does That Mean for American Women?Pacific Standard. October 18, 2018.

Teach Yourself to Echolocate – Atlas Obscura

“Whatever your sightedness, there’s something to be said for learning to listen more attentively to sonic scenery. Kish believes that vision has a way of blunting the other senses unless people work to really flex them. Deft echolocators, he says, are able to perceive fine differences—distinguishing, say, between an oleander bush (“a million sharp returns”) and an evergreen (“wisps closely packed together, which sound like a bit like a sponge or a curtain”). They’re discovering sonic wonder wherever they go. We asked Kish to tailor a lesson for first-timers just learning to listen to the landscape.”

—Jessica Leigh Hester, “Teach Yourself to Echolocate.” Atlas Obscura. October 11, 2018.

The Uselessness of Discussion to Find Truth

“‘Every philosopher runs away when he or she hears say ‘Let’s discuss this.’ Discussion, they claimed ‘are fine for roundabout talks, but philosophy throws its dice on another table. The best one can say about discussions is that they take things no farther, since the participants never talk about the same thing.’”

—Gilles Deleuze and Felix Guattari quoted in Richard Marshall, “HowTheLightGetsIn Festival, London 2018,” 3:AM Magazine. October 14, 2018.

Discussion is about building relationships and expressing our feelings. A discussion creates the bonds that bind a social set or tribe. It’s expressing an agreed upon shared truth and signals belonging, or not.

Even if we are expressing a personal truth, it is a small part of it. The personal truth worth hearing is often the secret we keep to ourselves. Speaking it to another would wound our self-conception and social standing. Typically, we only share the part that enhances those things.

We are rarely interested in hearing another’s truth, much less be changed by it because the truth shared by “discussion” is rarely worth hearing.

Princess Pamela’s Soul Food Cookbook

“There ain’t a thing I do, / a person I know, / a dish I cook, / couldn’t be made / a mite better. That’s / no reason / not to love it / for the best that it is / right now.”

Not just recipes, but full of wisdom about cooking and life.

In the Introduction of the 2017 edition, it points out that any seasonings indicated in the recipes beyond salt, fat and sugar can probably be quadrupled to be right. They were probably revised downward to reflect the bland 1960s New York palettes of the audience of that time. I tried Turnip Greens ‘n Corn Dumplings with some changes, such as yogurt for sour milk, and enjoyed the result.

Originally discovered this cookbook from the article below:

“But in The Jemima Code: Two Centuries of African American Cookbooks (2015), food historian Toni Tipton-Martin argues that Princess Pamela’s cookbook positions itself as a ‘clever retort to scientific cooking’ that could characterize so much of cookbook writing of the era, especially the kind that got published by predominantly white authors. Tipton-Martin provides a useful framework: Princess Pamela’s Soul Food Cookbook isn’t a manual so much as it’s a highly organized diary of her culinary knowhow. Numerous notes in the margins of the book’s reissue, inserted with asterisks by the Lee brothers, fill in the gaps that her original instructions invite.

She prefaces each chapter with a sort of evocative, lush canto; each poem is a time machine. Some read like proverbs: ‘You play ‘possum with that man and you end up cookin’ it for him,’ she writes before a recipe for roast opossum with sweet potatoes. Others attack the dazed, uninformed ignorance of soul food that surrounded her in New York City: ‘Practically every kind of people eat somethin’ that somebody else make a godawful face at,’ she opens her entry on tripe. ‘If that don’t tellya what this race-hatin’ is all about, nuthin’ will.'”

—Mayukh Sen. “She Was a Soul Food Sensation. Then, 19 Years Ago, She Disappeared.” Food52.com. February 2, 2017.

Cosmic Dyspepsia & Divine Excrement by Thomas Moyihan

“One pauses, and is suddenly struck with a vision: The Earth opens up and seeps fizzy pop. The carbonated fountains of the great deep break open. End-oriented teleoplexic history reveals that the world was created merely to spew forth Pepsi: everything else was merely a means to this end. They call it the 𝖕𝖊𝖕𝖘𝖎𝖈𝖑𝖎𝖕𝖕𝖊𝖗. Pepsi, as cosmic alchemical baseline or sugary-blackened-Nigredo, is the Alpha and the Omega, and all other conceivable ‘ends’ (human will, desire, values, Promethean ambitions) are merely camouflaged ‘means’ for the shooting forth of Pepsi from the great internal fountains of the Earth. The springs of terrestrial history weep black liquid sugar. Tears of Pepsi trickle from the empty eye-socket of an anorganic God, a cosmic visage pulled back into sugarrush rictus. This time there is no Noah and no ark. Everything drowns in obsidian sluice. Glucose high; glucose crash. John Milton — blind prophet, blind to his own prophecy — announces this, our fate, from Anno Domini 1667.”

An essay in seven parts, Thomas Moyihan’s Cosmic Dyspepsia & Divine Excrement is a schizophrenic juxtaposition of the Arnell Group’s Breathtaking: A Design Document for the Pepsi brand (a document of uncertain origin that could be a modern Protocols of the Elders of Zion aimed at the marketing masters of late-stage capitalism), academic critical theory, and a reimagining of Milton’s Paradise Lost as a prophecy of Pepsi.

Not for everyone, but if the text above appeals to you, then it might be worth taking a look at the whole thing.

Part 1 of the 7 part series.

h/t 3:AM Magazine

Banksy Shreds

“There was a lot of buzz around the last lot of the auction – Banksy’s Girl With Balloon. Done with spray paint and acrylic on canvas, mounted on board, signed and dedicated on the reverse, and framed in thick ornament artist’s frame the piece was said to be the best version of one of the most iconic images by the artist, so the world was watching how far the auction would go. And it went far. Selling for 1,042,000 GBP (1,357,726 USD including premiums), it was a grandiose ending to a successful week when the most bizarre thing happened.

According to the people in the room, just as the hammer fell down confirming the sale, the painting started shredding itself through the thick frame. The alarms went off, the staff took away the painting, and we’re yet to learn what actually happened there tonight.”

—”Banksy Canvas Shredded @ Sotheby’s Auction in London,” Juxtapoz Magazine. October 5, 2018.

Ironically, the shredding makes this art piece more valuable to collectors, not less.

Empty Realm

Therefore, both the factory line and the movie theater are sites of discipline, and within each capital stamps our minds with the indelible mark of sameness. The relentless monotony of the latest sitcom, same as the old sitcom, is the monotony of the office (this identity realizes its apotheosis in video games, where after work players continue to “grind” their life away in what are ultimately glorified spreadsheets). To be entertained is to give consent. The superficiality of mass culture finds its reflection in the superficiality of social relations under the corporate gaze. “Honey, I’m home” is “welcome to Walmart.” This stultifying logic of uniformity, originating in the capitalist mode of production and ensuring its continuation, seeps into every facet of our lives. It hijacks the human drive towards mimesis, we become our own impostors. The alienated subject is reproduced, the NPC emerges.”

—Evan James. “Empty Realm.” Jacobite. October 2, 2018.

Interesting throughout.