Archive for Life and/or Death

The Qandeel affair

Back in the summer of ’16, I posted a brief(ish) Rule 5 item on the late Qandeel Baloch, a Pakistani woman and social-media star who was murdered by her brother as a matter of “honor.” Robert Stacy McCain follows up:

“Muslims commit 91 percent of honor killings worldwide,” Robert Spencer of Jihad Watch says, noting that Islamic law sanctions such murders: “Until the encouragement Islamic law gives to honor killing is acknowledged and confronted, more women will suffer.” In a 2010 article for Middle East Quarterly, Phyllis Chesler reported that 58 percent of honor-killing victims were murdered for being “too Western” — an accusation that can mean “being seen as too independent, not subservient enough, refusing to wear varieties of Islamic clothing,” dating a non-Muslim or “wanting to choose one’s own husband.” In the West, female celebrities engage in provocative behavior and men are accused of “misogyny” for criticizing them, but any woman in an Islamic nation who attempts to emulate such behavior risks consequences far more serious than sexist jokes. Qandeel Baloch had 43,000 Twitter followers and more than 700,000 on Facebook, the BBC reported, and used her social-media presence to spark outrage. In June, she posted selfies posing with an Islamic cleric, Mufti Abdul Qavi, and told Pakistan Today the conservative Muslim scholar was “hopelessly in love” with her. That publicity stunt may have led to her murder three weeks later.

Doesn’t matter, insist Western feminists:

The kind of violent terrorism by which Islamic law is enforced — and especially what that violence means for women in Islamic countries — is something Western feminists do not want to recognize as a legitimate concern in politics and policy. You are an “Islamophobe,” feminists screech, if you call attention to the honor killings, clitoridectomies and other methods by which Islam oppresses women, not accidentally, but deliberately and with at least tacit sanction of Muslim religious leaders. That this brutality can and does come to the West via immigration is attested by the Pakistani “rape gangs” in England, as well as the sexual attacks that have terrorized women in Germany.

This is, of course, because they haven’t experienced it. Yet. Once they do, they may change their minds — or they may not, because some people can’t give up their delusions even in the face of hard facts.

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Troll level: average

Credit for keeping a straight face, though:

Yahoo Answers screenshot: Why doesn't Elliot Rodger upload anymore?

Further:

I used to watch his videos but the supreme gentleman hasn’t uploaded since 2014! Has he quit YouTube?

Um, not exactly. The creepy little weirdo, in his one act of true selflessness, turned the gun on himself. So the guy with the first answer to this question was correct: “No wifi in hell.”

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This video is illegal in France

And wait until you hear why:

On November 10th, the French “State Counsel” rejected an appeal made by people with Down syndrome, their families and allies to lift the ban on broadcasting the award winning “Dear Future Mom” video on French television. The ban was previously imposed by the French Broadcasting Counsel.

The State Counsel said that allowing people with Down syndrome to smile was “inappropriate” because people’s expression of happiness was “likely to disturb the conscience of women who had lawfully made different personal life choices”.

So our kids, whom studies from the USA and the Netherlands have proven to be much happier than the cranky, sulky bunch who go trough life without Down syndrome, are banned from public television because their happy faces make post-abortion women feel uncomfortable. Women must continue to believe in the myth that society and medical professionals portray: that Down syndrome is a life of suffering, a burden to their family and society. Obviously, if the truth gets out that 99% of people with Down syndrome are happy with their lives, society may start to question the systematic screening and deliberate mass elimination*) under the pretense of health-care and women’s rights.

*) 96% of pregnancies that are diagnosed with Down syndrome are aborted in France. Worldwide this number is estimated to be about 90%.

For there is no higher calling in this secular age than to snuff out a life in the womb because its future is not assured.

Excuse me while I hurl.

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The final few steps

All our days are numbered, and I suspect my own number is decidedly limited, in which case I want certain things on the record.

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I think your service to us is at its end now

Tom Neyman, the Master from Manos: The Hands of Fate, has died while the sequel was in production:

Jackey Neyman Jones, who played Debbie in the original film, launched a Kickstarter campaign in February 2016 to make a sequel to Manos, entitled Manos Returns. The Kickstarter sought to raise $24,000 for the production of the film. If successful, the film will include Neyman Jones, replaying her role as Debbie, and her father Tom Neyman, replaying the role of the Master. Jones and director Tonjia Atomic anticipate shooting the film in western Oregon as to have the film ready to show on November 15, 2016, the 50th anniversary of Manos’s original release. According to Neyman Jones, they are not planning on trying to recreate Manos though are trying to create a “tongue-in-cheek” film that takes place in the Manos storyline; Neyman Jones compared their anticipated product to be both funny and scary, along the lines of Cabin in the Woods or Abbott and Costello Meet Frankenstein. Their Kickstarter goal of $24,000 was reached on February 24, 2016. Tom Neyman, however, died on November 14, 2016, so it is uncertain if the sequel is to be made.

The Kickstarter raised over $31,000 from 420 backers (myself included). Neyman would have been 80 years old next week. I’m guessing that he’s only in a handful of scenes, and that they’ve already shot them.

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One more stop before the graveyard

All the swelling for the last year or two was drained away during five hours in the ER.

And most of it is back in the seven hours since I went home.

No point in questioning it anymore. I’m going to die, and rather quickly.

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This will be the day that I die

Well, not me, probably not today. (That said, you should probably consider me at least marginally suicidal for the duration.) But I’m wondering if there’s an accepted protocol for one’s Last Post Ever — or if it’s better just to let things grind to a halt. I’ve been on both sides of the issue at various times; now I’m just confused.

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Dinner without Drac

“Cool Ghoul” John Zacherle died Thursday at the age of 98:

Wearing ghoulish garb, Zacherle hosted horror movies on Philadelphia and New York television beginning in 1957. He likewise hosted the fondly recalled Newark-based dance show “Disc-O-Teen” in the late ’60s, and was a WNEW-FM disc jockey. From 1990 until 2015, Zacherle met fans old and new at the Chiller Theatre convention held in various New Jersey towns, chiefly Secaucus and Parsippany.

I refuse to believe that his death on 10/27 had anything to do with his having been a DJ on WNEW-FM, which historically was at 102.7.

Away from Jersey, Zacherle was probably best known for “Dinner with Drac,” ghastly limericks fit into a rock-and-roll background, a #6 pop hit in 1958:

Zacherle’s niece Bonnie, you may want to know, was the original designer of the My Little Pony line. Call it Generation 1.

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Dead man answering

It takes a lot to stand out in my email box these days. This item today definitely stood out:

Your Facebook friend Jeff Borland is on Quora

Now on Quora? Have you ever met anyone who waited until he had been dead for two years before signing up for a Web service?

Mind you, I’d love to see the guy there; Jeffro had a way with words and a willingness to shoot down total idiots, both of which are useful commodities on a Web site devoted to answering questions, and I’ve missed having him around. But somehow this rubs me the wrong way: if this is a family member using the man’s name, this is Bad Form, and if it’s just some scrub who hacked his way in from Jeffro’s FB account, this is unforgivable.

Incidentally, the Borland account is “following 26 topics.” And there is a function in Settings called “Find Facebook friends,” which makes me wonder if this might be sub-Turing-level bot work. He has 8 followers, one of whom I know.

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Still with the band

From Wikipedia’s article on Negativland: “On July 22, 2015, former lead vocalist Don Joyce died of heart failure at the age of 71.”

This past week, segments from the band’s radio show were released as Over the Edge Vol. 9: The Chopping Channel, with a special appearance, so to speak, by Don Joyce:

In keeping with the album’s theme, and while supplies last, each mail order copy of this new project comes with two very unique extra items: two grams of the actual cremains, or ashes, of deceased Negativland member Don Joyce, and one of Don’s handmade audio tape loop “carts” used in the creation of Over The Edge and Negativland live performances between 1981 and 2015.

This is not a hoax. We’ve decided to take the Chopping Channel concept to its logical conclusion by “productizing” an actual band member. It is also a celebration of the degree to which no idea in art was ever off-limits to Don, and offers a literal piece of him, and of his audio art, for the listener to repurpose and reuse. We are pretty sure he would have wanted it this way.

I am compelled to admit that Don Joyce, so far as I can tell, does not appear on my single favorite Negativland release, U2, which combines a cover of “I Still Haven’t Found What I’m Looking For” with a profane rant by the late Casey Kasem in apparent forgot-the-mic-was-hot mode. (Link is pretty well NSFW, as I found out one day.)

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A Colossus lost

I got the word this afternoon from Brickmuppet:

Steven Den Beste has passed away.

I just received word from Steven’s brother, graciously thanking me for making the welfare call to the police and confirming that what many of us feared had indeed come to pass. I did not inquire as to specifics, but Steven had been in very poor health of late, having had a stroke just under four years ago.

SdB was one of the pillars of the blogosphere, almost from Day One:

Steven was brilliant, a former engineer with a crackerjack mind. His old blog, U.S.S. Clueless was tremendously important in the early days of the blogosphere. It is hard to overstate the importance of U.S.S. Clueless and the brilliance of his analysis. Sadly, that site went down this past week as well, when Steven’s server failed. That site was immensely influential to many of us, and I am far from the only person he inspired to blog or helped along.

Worse, he was about my age, which reminds me — as though I needed reminding — of my own fragility.

Something to remember him by? How about this, from 11 September 2012?

I always thought that attacking an embassy was considered an act of war. But 1980 seems to have established a new precedent: if a Democrat is President, then Muslim mobs may despoil American embassies as much as they wish. Once a Republican gets elected, then they lay off.

Our hostages in Tehran were released a few hours before Reagan was sworn in. If Romney manages to defeat Obama in November, will we see something of the same happen next January?

Well, even if it does, it won’t bring that man back to life. Not even The One, for all his assumed divinity, can do that. (Stopping the rise of the oceans is easy by comparison.)

If only we could bring that man back to life.

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The opposite of new-car smell

I don’t really blame this guy for taking the Anonymous option:

Can an insurance company sell a salvaged car if someone died in it, and if so, do they have to tell you?

Now houses, that’s a whole ‘nother matter:

In California, sellers must reveal if a death in the home has occurred anytime in the past three years, including death by natural causes (although certain types of deaths, like those from AIDS, cannot be disclosed). And if a buyer comes out and asks about a death that occurred at any time, even longer than three years ago, the seller is required to provide a truthful response.

I submit that there are going to be times when “How the hell do I know?” is the most truthful response available.

In Alaska and South Dakota, only murders or suicides must be disclosed if they happened within the past year. In other states the laws are less black and white; a seller may need to disclose the information only if a buyer asks.

Still, we’re talking houses. Cars? Nobody gives a damn, except this poor, superstitious soul. I can say only that it’s entirely possible for a car to be totaled, rebuilt and resold without anyone having died in it.

Now if it smells like someone died in it within the last couple of days, maybe there’s a reason to inquire.

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Temporarily closed

At least, one hopes it’s only temporary:

(Seen at the Natural History Museum in London. Via Jeff Faria.)

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Strength far exceeding mine

This has bothered me for most of a month now:

And it will likely continue to do so.

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This world sucks

And as time wears on and the sucking continues, I contend that I am perfectly justified in wanting to leave.

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Call it the Model D

And that’s D as in Death:

In what they claim to be a world’s first, and we can’t dispute it after some research, a funeral transport company based in the Netherlands, Vander der Lans & Busscher BV, developed the first all-electric hearse using a modified Tesla Model S built by a stretched limousine maker, RemetzCar.

Tesla hearse concept

RemetzCar claims to have cut the vehicle in half after having removed the battery pack. Then, they extended the [wheel]base by 80 cm (31.5 inch) before fitting the battery pack back into the platform.

Thanks to RemetzCar, now Van der Lans & Busscher will be able to offer zero-emission funerals to its clients.

I’m operating under the assumption that the prototype is not equipped with the Ludicrous Speed option.

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Sorrow on four legs

This story dates back three years. It’s about a young buffalo and a mare at the end of her days:

During one of my husband’s cold but sweaty efforts to rouse Daphne, something incredible happened which I will never forget. As I stood against a young oak tree juggling phone calls with Shawndra and three vets’ offices (we were now in the slender space of time between office hours and emergency response times) Chunk-hi meandered over to our worried gathering. Constantly in my view, he lowered his behemoth head and started towards Daphne’s tail end. I feared some rough playfulness but was amazed by what he actually did.

Chunk stroked his massive bearded chin in long, slow motions against Daphne’s body. He traced every leg, sniffed her tail, kissed her neck with that long purple tongue, and paced delicately around her prone and weakening body for several minutes. Handsome and I both noticed this incredible behavior.

We witnessed what could have been the precursor to a goring, or at least a good head butt, turn into a truly affectionate and comforting gesture. From my position about four feet away I could see his big liquid black eyes watch everything we did. I could hear his amplified breath, investigating the scene, cataloging details. Daphne had always held a maternal veil over this little orphaned addition to our farm, and I have no doubt he felt her pain. In retrospect, we believe he was also saying goodbye.

After a ten or fifteen minute vigil, Chunk-hi suddenly inhaled sharply and started bobbing and wagging his shaggy head in big, dramatic circles. Usually a sure sign of aggression in male buffalo, this had no such feeling. He flung his head around but stood perfectly still then just gazed at her. He looked at me calmly, but not blankly, and I was devastated to have no words for him. This was a buffalo sobbing and crying.

And now he’s gone too:

After he left the farm this past February to live on a gorgeous, 300-acre ranch with his new ranching family, I continued to hear his voice. He had a deep, bellowy voice, a snorting baritone that sounded a lot like howling wind and also like Tibetan meditation bowls. Otherworldly sometimes. For weeks I heard him every morning when I fed the other animals, and a few times I also thought I saw him in a sand wallow, peeking around an oak tree. He was big, huge even by bison standards, but he had a talent for winding himself up small like a baby and tucking into the shadows, just chewing his cud.

We miss him so much. We have missed him every day of every week since he left the Lazy W, and we have been deeply conflicted about the decision to find him a new home. But our reasons were sound, and the family who took him on are wonderful ranchers, smart and loving.

Chunk was given the opportunity to roam almost free, just like a wild buff, and he also had a girlfriend named Molly. After a period of acclimation, they enjoyed a long honeymoon toward the close of summer, and for this we are so grateful.

One day recently his new caretakers discovered Chunk badly injured, his back broken, probably from a fight with another bull or from vigorous love making with Molly. We were shocked and heartbroken by the news but held onto hope that he might heal or that their vet might find a solution.

No solution was to be found. I’m no expert on back pain, despite recent lessons on the subject, but I wouldn’t wish it on anyone, two legs or four.

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Kill me later

O Lord, grant me the sweet peace of death, but not now:

Last weekend Belgian Paralympian Marieke Vervoort said in Rio that she is considering euthanasia to escape a life of unbearable physical pain — only not quite yet.

Vervoort, who won silver in the 400m wheelchair race at the Paralympic Games, played down earlier reports that she planned to be euthanized after her return from Brazil.

“I have my (euthanasia) papers in my hand, but I’m still enjoying every little moment. When the moment comes when I have more bad days than good days, then I have my euthanasia papers, but the time is not there yet,” she told a news conference in Rio [de Janeiro], Brazil, where the Paralympic Games are taking place.

And if she has more good days than bad days? Is she screwed?

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A surprisingly risky business

Peter “Bayou Renaissance Man” Green Grant, like me, put in some time in operations on an IBM System/370, but there’s something he remembers that I seem to have forgotten:

I recall banks of gas cylinders outside the computer room, designed to release fire-suppressing fumes into the data center whenever necessary. However, none of us ever considered the noise of the gas being released as a potential hazard to disk drives. The system was more likely to kill us! One of my not-so-fond memories of that computer room was when we had a fire security inspection. The inspector turned to the Operations Manager and asked whether he had replacement operators lined up and ready to go after a fire. Puzzled, the Ops Manager replied that he hadn’t — why did he ask? The inspector then pointed out that the “gas masks” provided for the operators were to prevent smoke inhalation only. They had no oxygen cylinder to provide fresh air — but the halon gas that the fire suppression system would inject would absorb all the oxygen in the air. The operators would be asphyxiated before they could get out.

Which, if nothing else, shows you how highly ops personnel are regarded, compared to everyone else in the department.

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Out here at the margin

Emily Dickinson anticipated this years ago:

The Loneliness One dare not sound—
And would as soon surmise
As in its Grave go plumbing
To ascertain the size—

The Loneliness whose worst alarm
Is lest itself should see—
And perish from before itself
For just a scrutiny—

The Horror not to be surveyed—
But skirted in the Dark—
With Consciousness suspended—
And Being under Lock—

I fear me this—is Loneliness—
The Maker of the soul
Its Caverns and its Corridors
Illuminate—or seal—

(Suggested by Instapundit.)

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Lethal hickey

This is decidedly dispiriting:

A teenage boy has died after getting a love bite from his girlfriend.

Julio Macias Gonzalez, 17, began convulsing at the dinner table with his family in Mexico City after spending time with his 24-year-old lover, The Sun reports.

It is thought the woman gave him a hickey earlier that evening which caused a blood clot that travelled to the teen’s brain, triggering a stroke.

Paramedics were called to the scene but Julio could not be saved.

I expect this will show up in the appendices to all those Thou Shalt Not books that nobody actually buys.

(Via Interested-Participant.)

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Snuff ’em

This is a scary followup to yesterday’s “Time for you to move on”:

Chester Siniawski, the man who survived a forced-euthanasia attempt on his life at the Joliet Area Community Hospice, continues to regain strength after his son, Chet, managed to free him from the JACH and move him into a hospital (where medical professionals actually work, not ghouls who try to kill people who want to keep living). Chester’s being fed three times a day now and is making huge steps in his recovery. A man who was cruelly denied food and starved for over two months is being given as much to eat as he wants and is loving it! He’s regained the use of his left side and, every day that he’s receiving proper nourishment and physical therapy, he gets closer to being the person he used to be, before his stroke in April.

The reason I care so much about this man is because of how horrific what was done to him truly is: he had a non-terminal stroke that he could recover from … but his own wife (who appears to have some kind of mental illness) wanted him to die and never recover, because she didn’t want to be bothered with having a husband in a wheelchair. Being a widow sounded more fun and a better time for her than having to care for a man who needed rehabilitation to regain use of his body after a stroke. That whole “in sickness and in health” part of the wedding vows didn’t seem to register with this woman. That right there is terrible enough … but on top of it there is actually a place in Illinois where someone this despicable can take her husband and staff will go along with a plot to withhold food and water from the man in order to euthanize him against his will. Just because his wife already has a black dress picked out and wants to put the “fun” back in funeral.

And the following is here mostly for my benefit:

I just come back to the fact that life is such a precious gift. Every day, each of us ages. We’ll never be who we were at 18 or 25 or 30 or whatever. Our health deteriorates. We lose abilities. In time, we become ghosts of our former selves. As an American, I just don’t like the idea of ever giving up … and so I won’t ever give up. That’s my choice. I want to keep fighting and living for as long as I can. I hope that the people I love want that too for themselves. And if they do want to fight and keep living but staff at a facility and other actors try to kill them, you better believe I will do whatever I can to keep them alive. How sad it is that our elected officials and trusted public servants don’t feel the same way and operate under the kind of “death is better” mentality that the Soviet Union would have subscribed to.

“We’re going to take things away from you on behalf of the common good.”

Hillary, you should know, was actually talking about tax rates at the time, but I trust absolutely no contemporary politician to comprehend, let alone define, any concept like “the common good.” This is why we have death panels “end-of-life counseling.”

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No alternative

This is why voting should never, ever be mandatory:

Obituary of Mary Anne Noland of Richmond, who died rather than vote for Clinton or Trump

(Via Peter Bromberg.)

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Time for you to move on

I found this in a thread started by a Facebook friend:

When I lived in Massachusetts, and my health was collapsing, and I couldn’t afford to wrangle the problem, strangers would often recommend that I kill myself. It got to where I would not mention my problems with my health in public places — someone sitting nearby would always come over and angrily aggressively insist I kill myself, to cease being a burden on society. They honestly believed that’s how the system works and should work.

It matters not to me whether their belief is “honest” or not. Who died and left them in charge of logistics? Exactly. The lot of them can go straight to hell, do not pass Go, do not collect $200.

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You’re not dying fast enough

And this sort of thing matters to insurance providers and similar types:

When someone is receiving hospice care, it usually means they’re very close to the end of their life. But what happens if that person simply refuses to die?

A woman who’s outlived her prognosis has lost hospice care for that very reason, CBS New York reports. She wasn’t supposed to still be alive, after doctors gave her less than six months to live … two years ago. But despite battling stage 4 lung cancer and chronic obstructive pulmonary disease, she’s hanging in there.

Because, you know, rules:

Medicare rules define hospice care as for the actively dying only, and “terminal” means you have less than six months to live. Now that her hospice provider has done what’s called “graduating” the woman from hospice care, she’ll have to go back to her private doctor and supplemental insurance.

I’m going to ponder that phrase “actively dying” for a while.

And while I do, I’ll think about my dad, who back in 1999 was told he had maybe six months to live.

He made it just past Christmas 2006. Then again, he was a right ornery cuss.

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The last dose

This seems like a legitimate problem to me:

[T]hen there is the “problem” with people accidentally committing suicide by taking too much of a prescription pain killer. If it’s a prescription painkiller, we know how much of the drug is in there. We aren’t talking about street corner heroin which have anywhere from zero to 100% active ingredients. If people are dying from taking too much Oxycodone, it’s either because they want to die, or they don’t know what a fatal dose is. And why is that? I’ll bet it’s because “nobody needs to know” that kind of information.

A lethal dose will probably vary from person to person. There is an FDA Black Box warning on Vicodin, but probably not the one you expect:

Acetaminophen has been associated with cases of acute liver failure, at times resulting in liver transplant and death. Most of the cases of liver injury are associated with the use of acetaminophen at doses that exceed 4000 milligrams per day, and often involve more than one acetaminophen-containing product.

They could slap that on Tylenol, and probably do.

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Done with it

What can you say to someone who’s already decided she wants to die? “Don’t do that” seems somehow inadequate.

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I suspect I’m drowning in it

And I never, ever even knew:

An international collaboration of research scientists in Australia, the United States and Sweden has identified a molecule in the blood that holds the key to identifying the cause of suicide.

“We have known for a long time that people who attempt suicide have markers of chronic inflammation in their blood and spinal fluid. Commonly used antidepressants have only limited effect because they target serotonin — the branch of tryptophan associated with happiness — rather than quinolinic acid which is the other branch of tryptophan associated with inflammation,” said Professor of Neuroscience Gilles Guillemin from the Faculty of Medicine and Health Sciences.

“Our latest research provides further evidence of the role of inflammation in a person’s mental state. It shows that suicidal patients have reduced activity of an enzyme called ACMSD which results in lower production of picolinic acid, an important molecule for brain protection. We now have a much clearer indication of the biological mechanics behind suicidal tendency.”

Because you want to know:

Brundin, L., Sellgren, CM., Lim, CK., Grit, J., Palsson, E., Landen, M., Samuelsson, M., Lundgren, C., Brundin, P., Fuchs, D., Postolache, TT., Träskman-Bendz, L., Guillemin, GJ., Erhardt, S. An enzyme in the kynurenine pathway that governs vulnerability to suicidal behavior by regulating excitotoxicity and neuroinflammation. Translational Psychiatry, 2 August 2016, doi: 10.1038 / TP.2016.133.

(Via Fark.)

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Perhaps it just seems longer

Spurning steak and sausage and Spam might add some time to your lifespan:

[A] new study just out — Association of Animal and Plant Protein Intake With All-Cause and Cause-Specific Mortality by Song et al. — also tells us that vegetarians live longer. Their data was from two high quality U.S. databases but they appear not to have bothered at all with controls.

And you can understand why. Vegetarians will mostly be health conscious people with strong will-power and such people will undoubtedly engage in a range of safer behaviors — smoking less, avoiding dangerous drugs, exercising more, driving more slowly, climbing fewer mountains etc, etc. And all those things could contribute to a longer lifespan. Vegetarianism may be only the indicator, not the cause.

From the conclusion:

Although higher intake of animal protein was associated with higher mortality and higher intake of plant protein was associated with lower mortality, these associations were confined to participants with at least 1 lifestyle risk factor.

You know anyone with no “lifestyle risk factors?”

(Source: doi:10.1001/jamainternmed.2016.4182)

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Let us not speak of honor

Say hello — and then say goodbye — to Qandeel Baloch, twenty-six:

Qandeel Baloch

Qandeel Baloch

And in motion:

Now the bad news:

Qandeel Baloch, a Pakistani social media star, was strangled to death by her brother in Multan, Pakistan, on Friday. The fashion model garnered fame and notoriety with her unconventional and scandalous — by Pakistani standards — public persona, and she had recently caused a stir by posting selfies with a prominent Muslim cleric, Mufti Qawi, during Ramadan. Baloch, whose real name was Fauzia Azeem, had a huge social media fanbase, with 40,000 Twitter followers and more than 700,000 on her official Facebook page.

She wrote on Facebook on the 14th:

As a women we must stand up for ourselves..As a women we must stand up for each other… As a women we must stand up for justice

I believe I am a modern day feminist. I believe in equality. I need not to choose what type of women should be. I don’t think there is any need to label ourselves just for sake of society. I am just a women with free thoughts free mindset and I LOVE THE WAY I AM. :)

#QandeelBaloch #I_Am_The_Best #Stubborn_For_My_Dreams #One_Women_Army #High_Targets #DestinationBollywood #Will_Do_Things_My_Own_Way #Just_Watch_Me

As for the perp:

On 15 July 2016, Baloch was asphyxiated by her brother Waseem while she was asleep in her parents’ house in Multan. Her death was reported by her father Azeem. It was first reported as a shooting, but an autopsy report confirmed that Baloch was murdered by asphyxiation while she was asleep, on the night of 15–16 July around 11:15p.m. to 11:30p.m.; by the time her body was found she had already been dead for fifteen to thirty-six hours. Marks on Baloch’s body revealed that her mouth and nose were pinned shut to asphyxiate her. Police called the murder an honor killing.

Real honorable of you there, Waseem.

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