that's why god made escort agencies

spooky-snowflake-hall-of-doom:

I find this post horrendously annoying and it makes me want to stick a fork in my left eye.
I can’t even tell you how many times I’ve seen a straight man makes a positive comment about the physical appearance of another man.
"Oh yeah he’s a good looking dude."
"Yeah man that shirt looks good on you."
"Your hair looks good. No worries."
Like it’s not hard to make a positive comment about someone’s outward appearance. Straight men can do it to men and straight women do it to other women all the time. It’s not an uncommon thing. The people that keep reblogging this just clearly don’t have actual friendships with real straight males.
Finally, you can’t ask the fucking question “Don’t you think he’s attractive?”
Are you an idiot? Do you even know what you’re saying. jesus fucking dicks
When you ask if someone is specifically “attractive,” this implies /sexual/ attraction.
If a guy is not sexually attracted to guys, of COURSE he’s going to say he’s not into guys. Holy shit.
If you want to know a straight guy’s opinion on the outward appearance of another guy, don’t just ask him if he finds the other guy attractive. Technically, he does not. And on top of that, /why/ are you even wasting your breath asking a straight guy if he finds another guy attractive in the first place? Like no he probably DOESN’T find the guy attractive. He might think the guy isn’t bad looking. He might even say he’s a good looking guy. But he’s not going to find him attractive. He’s not attracted to the guy.
This whole post is stupid and my ranting seems really jumbled because its 3 am and I have to be up in like 4 hours ugh. This post got under my skin because it just further proves my theory that most of the people on this site don’t know a single fucking thing about men and they spend way too much fucking time on this website rather than being social enough to actually understand how men, and basically all humans, actually work. Not to mention it horribly generalizes all straight men. As if they all act the same fucking way. Fucking cunts on this website.
Also, literally every single fucking straight male that I have ever met and known for at least a week has given a compliment without expecting sex. Are you people seriously THAT socially inept that you can’t even tell the difference between a compliment and a boner? Have you ever even SPOKE to a male before? Holy fucking shit.
Now I’m gonna go to bed because I have a gym and lunch date with my own boyfriend and then I’m going to get laid, which is more than I can say for 95% of the other straight females on this site.
Snow: Preach.

Honestly, these narcissists that believe every straight guy giving compliments is tantamount to said guy wanting to bone them are so ridiculously hilarious.
But you know, ~OH SNAP~ and what not. pfffft.

spooky-snowflake-hall-of-doom:

I find this post horrendously annoying and it makes me want to stick a fork in my left eye.

I can’t even tell you how many times I’ve seen a straight man makes a positive comment about the physical appearance of another man.

"Oh yeah he’s a good looking dude."

"Yeah man that shirt looks good on you."

"Your hair looks good. No worries."

Like it’s not hard to make a positive comment about someone’s outward appearance. Straight men can do it to men and straight women do it to other women all the time. It’s not an uncommon thing. The people that keep reblogging this just clearly don’t have actual friendships with real straight males.

Finally, you can’t ask the fucking question “Don’t you think he’s attractive?”

Are you an idiot? Do you even know what you’re saying. jesus fucking dicks

When you ask if someone is specifically “attractive,” this implies /sexual/ attraction.

If a guy is not sexually attracted to guys, of COURSE he’s going to say he’s not into guys. Holy shit.

If you want to know a straight guy’s opinion on the outward appearance of another guy, don’t just ask him if he finds the other guy attractive. Technically, he does not. And on top of that, /why/ are you even wasting your breath asking a straight guy if he finds another guy attractive in the first place? Like no he probably DOESN’T find the guy attractive. He might think the guy isn’t bad looking. He might even say he’s a good looking guy. But he’s not going to find him attractive. He’s not attracted to the guy.

This whole post is stupid and my ranting seems really jumbled because its 3 am and I have to be up in like 4 hours ugh. This post got under my skin because it just further proves my theory that most of the people on this site don’t know a single fucking thing about men and they spend way too much fucking time on this website rather than being social enough to actually understand how men, and basically all humans, actually work. Not to mention it horribly generalizes all straight men. As if they all act the same fucking way. Fucking cunts on this website.

Also, literally every single fucking straight male that I have ever met and known for at least a week has given a compliment without expecting sex. Are you people seriously THAT socially inept that you can’t even tell the difference between a compliment and a boner? Have you ever even SPOKE to a male before? Holy fucking shit.

Now I’m gonna go to bed because I have a gym and lunch date with my own boyfriend and then I’m going to get laid, which is more than I can say for 95% of the other straight females on this site.

Snow: Preach.

image

Honestly, these narcissists that believe every straight guy giving compliments is tantamount to said guy wanting to bone them are so ridiculously hilarious.

But you know, ~OH SNAP~ and what not. pfffft.


mildlyamused:

atane:

zuky:

nezua:

Flappers shaming Miley Cyrus.

Oddly enough we could say that Miley Cyrus is following solidly in the appropriative footsteps of white flappers, who in the 1920s grabbed national attention and stirred alarmism concerning the end of civilization because they partied to Black music, wore their hair short like Josephine Baker (who fled US racism to become a superstar in Europe), and imitated dance moves from Baker and other Black dancers. The famously flapperesque Charleston was lifted from the African American dance called the Juba, which had West African roots and was danced in secret in the South and the Caribbean. The dance sped up when it reached Harlem, giving birth to both tap dancing and the Broadway hit called The Charleston, which spread like wildfire from there. White people didn’t sway their hips this scandalously prior to that era, making flappers roughly equivalent to white twerkers of the Jazz Age.

This is 100% true. The period from the jazz age to the beat generation, comparatively speaking was the height of cultural appropriation of black art. The beat generation used lingo popularized by Lester Young. They then appropriated the style, dress, and lingo of bebop musicians like Charlie Parker and Dizzy Gillespie, down to the beret, glasses, and soul patch. Bebop musicians, Parker and Gillespie in particular, were the blueprint of their image. Norman Mailer wrote an essay titled “The White Negro" that tackles this phenomenon. I’m no fan of Norman Mailer, but at least he admitted that white people were stealing from blacks. He wrote it in 1957.
With regards to the flappers, apart from Josephine Baker, they also liberally borrowed from black vaudeville performers. They would copy dance moves from black performers, and then introduce it as their own. Many dances attributed to whites are from black vaudeville performers who were forced to perform on the chitlin’ circuit because of segregation and Jim Crow laws.
It really is astonishing how nothing has changed in this regard. For example, people to this day still call Benny Goodman “the king of swing”, when what he did was procure charts for arrangements from Fletcher Henderson, a black man. Goodman’s biggest hits were from Henderson. It’s amazing how much credit Goodman gets for another man’s work. Of course Goodman became “the king of swing”, while Fletcher Henderson remains a footnote in history. How a white man becomes the king of something innovated by blacks is astounding. Benny Goodman is called “the king of swing”. Paul Whiteman is called “the king of jazz”. Elvis Presley is called “the king of rock n roll”. Is Eminem the king of rap? What about Justin Timberlake and Robin Thicke with r&b? Miley is soon on her way to become “the queen of twerking”.
Anyway, apart from getting his charts from Fletcher Henderson, Benny Goodman got his ass handed to him by Chick Webb at the Savoy Ballroom when they had a battle of the bands. Goodman is often noted as being one of the few white men in the segregation era to have black men in his band, and the narrative is typically presented as if he did it out of benevolence. He did it because there was no way to get around the fact that swing music was the domain of black folks, and he poached the best black players he could find to bolster his band, and black musicians went with him because as a white man, he was able to pay them more than black bandleaders, and they wouldn’t have to deal with indignity while traveling. Many hotels refused black bands, so they often had to sleep in cars, bus terminals, or crash at the homes of hospitable blacks. A big portion of Duke Ellington’s money went towards renting out train cars and making sure his orchestra had a place to sleep while on the road because hotels often turned them down because they were black. These were issues Goodman wasn’t going to face. Black musicians certainly didn’t go with him because he was the best. Goodman even later hired Henderson to arrange and play in his band. He wasn’t doing it because he loved black people. Black people were the ones creating and innovating. Where else would he get the best charts and arrangements? Now that the smoke has cleared and the dust has settled, Goodman gets all the credit. Funny how that works.
This stuff has been going on for a long time. Miley is the 2013 version. Twerking has been around for a long time, but Miley convulses on national tv and all of a sudden, dictionary definitions of twerking are made. Definitions complete with no mention of black people, like all this happened in a vacuum. It’s history repeating itself over and over again. I see the same thing happening with afrobeat music.

mildlyamused:

atane:

zuky:

nezua:

Flappers shaming Miley Cyrus.

Oddly enough we could say that Miley Cyrus is following solidly in the appropriative footsteps of white flappers, who in the 1920s grabbed national attention and stirred alarmism concerning the end of civilization because they partied to Black music, wore their hair short like Josephine Baker (who fled US racism to become a superstar in Europe), and imitated dance moves from Baker and other Black dancers. The famously flapperesque Charleston was lifted from the African American dance called the Juba, which had West African roots and was danced in secret in the South and the Caribbean. The dance sped up when it reached Harlem, giving birth to both tap dancing and the Broadway hit called The Charleston, which spread like wildfire from there. White people didn’t sway their hips this scandalously prior to that era, making flappers roughly equivalent to white twerkers of the Jazz Age.

This is 100% true. The period from the jazz age to the beat generation, comparatively speaking was the height of cultural appropriation of black art. The beat generation used lingo popularized by Lester Young. They then appropriated the style, dress, and lingo of bebop musicians like Charlie Parker and Dizzy Gillespie, down to the beret, glasses, and soul patch. Bebop musicians, Parker and Gillespie in particular, were the blueprint of their image. Norman Mailer wrote an essay titled “The White Negro" that tackles this phenomenon. I’m no fan of Norman Mailer, but at least he admitted that white people were stealing from blacks. He wrote it in 1957.

With regards to the flappers, apart from Josephine Baker, they also liberally borrowed from black vaudeville performers. They would copy dance moves from black performers, and then introduce it as their own. Many dances attributed to whites are from black vaudeville performers who were forced to perform on the chitlin’ circuit because of segregation and Jim Crow laws.

It really is astonishing how nothing has changed in this regard. For example, people to this day still call Benny Goodman “the king of swing”, when what he did was procure charts for arrangements from Fletcher Henderson, a black man. Goodman’s biggest hits were from Henderson. It’s amazing how much credit Goodman gets for another man’s work. Of course Goodman became “the king of swing”, while Fletcher Henderson remains a footnote in history. How a white man becomes the king of something innovated by blacks is astounding. Benny Goodman is called “the king of swing”. Paul Whiteman is called “the king of jazz”. Elvis Presley is called “the king of rock n roll”. Is Eminem the king of rap? What about Justin Timberlake and Robin Thicke with r&b? Miley is soon on her way to become “the queen of twerking”.

Anyway, apart from getting his charts from Fletcher Henderson, Benny Goodman got his ass handed to him by Chick Webb at the Savoy Ballroom when they had a battle of the bands. Goodman is often noted as being one of the few white men in the segregation era to have black men in his band, and the narrative is typically presented as if he did it out of benevolence. He did it because there was no way to get around the fact that swing music was the domain of black folks, and he poached the best black players he could find to bolster his band, and black musicians went with him because as a white man, he was able to pay them more than black bandleaders, and they wouldn’t have to deal with indignity while traveling. Many hotels refused black bands, so they often had to sleep in cars, bus terminals, or crash at the homes of hospitable blacks. A big portion of Duke Ellington’s money went towards renting out train cars and making sure his orchestra had a place to sleep while on the road because hotels often turned them down because they were black. These were issues Goodman wasn’t going to face. Black musicians certainly didn’t go with him because he was the best. Goodman even later hired Henderson to arrange and play in his band. He wasn’t doing it because he loved black people. Black people were the ones creating and innovating. Where else would he get the best charts and arrangements? Now that the smoke has cleared and the dust has settled, Goodman gets all the credit. Funny how that works.

This stuff has been going on for a long time. Miley is the 2013 version. Twerking has been around for a long time, but Miley convulses on national tv and all of a sudden, dictionary definitions of twerking are made. Definitions complete with no mention of black people, like all this happened in a vacuum. It’s history repeating itself over and over again. I see the same thing happening with afrobeat music.

(Source: melanskyyworld)


afraidofpop:

I am a mentally ill person. I have been my entire life. I know that now. I have listened to this album for years and only today did this song stand out. Only today did I understand. I played it on and off all day long in my headphones on the long ride back and forth to my grandfather’s funeral. But it wasn’t about my grandfather; it was about me. 

I know the story behind the song and that makes it even more painful to listen to. I wish I’d known her. Maybe we could have hugged and cried and lied to each other, saying that it would be all right. But it definitely won’t be. What I have is for life, and what she had was for life. Until she wrapped it up herself. 

I don’t want to tell people how badly I’m hurting, because everyone else is going through their own shit. And how do I explain this sickness that no one can see? How do I tell someone without them thinking I’m weak and pathetic? All I can see is everyone else going through their own genuine pain, pain that can be observed just by reading an obituary.

Despair kills just as easily as cancer. But for now, it’s not claiming me. The fact that I’m still capable of feeling things means I am not done here yet.

But everyone else who lived it and decided they’d had enough - I get it.


The Wire →

serene-quill:

It wasn’t a coat hanger. It was a wire.

The theory was that by inserting the wire through the cervix, moving it around a bit and then removing it, an infection would result and the pregnancy would be aborted. It worked. It was March 1967.

Afterward, after I watched the ‘doctor’ wash his hands with one of those little soaps wrapped in white paper, after he tilted the bedside lamp just so and after he said, “That should do it,” I got dressed, left the motel with the flashing vacancy sign, made my way to the bus station in downtown Detroit, and rode in the dark in the eerie silence of a mostly empty Greyhound all the way back to Mt. Pleasant, the tiny Michigan town where I was a freshman in college. Curled up next to the window under my black pea coat, I wondered how long it would take, whether it would be on the bus or later. I worried that something a lot worse than being pregnant would happen to me because of what happened in the motel room, that I’d get sick or bleed to death. I wondered if I would ever feel right about what I had done and if there had been choices that I hadn’t considered. I remember feeling like a mouse that had found the tiniest hole for escape while a giant tomcat loomed. I was distraught, empty, and alone on that bus. Back in my dorm room, Jane, my roommate, held both of my hands in hers and said, “It will be ok. You’ll see. You’ll have lots of children when the time is right.” It was a gesture of kindness and compassion that even now brings tears to my eyes.

I was 19. I had slept with my boyfriend just a single time. When I missed my period, I ever so reluctantly made an appointment with the town gynecologist who confirmed the pregnancy and then quizzed me incessantly about whether I knew who the father was. Did I know who the father was? Of course. There had only been one person ever. Yes, I knew.

The doctor told me to tell my parents but I couldn’t. My mother who had suffered for almost her entire adult life with severe depression was so deep in her terrible place, on the couch or in bed all day, sleeping or staring, that I almost cancelled my departure to college. The last child at home for many years, I had become her driver and caregiver when these episodes occurred. Leaving seemed like the worst kind of betrayal and yet the pull of the relief I knew I would feel being out from under her mental illness was irresistible. I really wanted to be in a place where people were happy. The thought of going home, sitting down on the couch, where I knew she would be, to tell her I’d gotten pregnant was unfathomable. Without question, I could not do that. My problem, then, was mine to solve.

My father, matter of fact as he was about everything, would line up a Justice of the Peace and get us married but my boyfriend had already nixed that plan. He had a friend who had a friend who knew about the ‘wire’ plan. We didn’t have the $250 it would cost to pay a bonafide illegal abortionist so the only option was amateur hour. There was no real discussion. The wire became the path we would follow. I was cornered. I knew I was alone with the consequences whatever they would be. My boyfriend could walk away and no one would ever know. He was free. I was cornered.

I grieved and was wild for a full year after that. I broke up with my boyfriend, realizing right away that any man who would advocate the wire wasn’t lifetime commitment material. I drank too much, bounced from guy to guy, and remember not much from that time except long times in the shower crying in grief and guilt. For years, I counted the days and months - how old the child would be if the pregnancy had not been terminated. The guilt was overwhelming. But as I matured, I recognized the decision for what it was - what I believed was right. I accepted responsibility and forgave myself. In the truest terms, I did what I had to do.

But what I had to do was a dreadful thing. The lack of safe, legal, and affordable abortion put me in a dingy motel in downtown Detroit to undergo a risky, unsanitary procedure that could easily have maimed or killed me. That I lived to tell the tale, to write about it on this page, is a small miracle of my life.

Six years later, abortion became legal in the United States. Of any accomplishment of the women’s movement, this one was always at my core. It wasn’t right for women to risk so much in order to be in control of their own reproductive lives. It wasn’t right to punish women who have been cornered by circumstances - unplanned pregnancy, no job, no money, no options - by daring them to find the $250 illegal abortionist in their city or worse. It wasn’t right that women should have to pay for a mistake with their fear, risk their future health and their very lives while men could walk away and be free. I was happy, so happy about Roe v. Wade. At last, I thought, this one thing for women - at last.

Twenty-five years after my abortion, busloads of anti-abortion protesters came to my town. Each morning they would pick a different abortion clinic and turn out by the hundreds to harass women coming for their abortion appointments. The crowds could be enormous with people waving signs with what they claimed to be pictures of aborted fetuses, and singing “My God is an Awesome God” verse after verse, hour after hour. Right away, I signed up to be a clinic defender and each morning I’d get up at 5, pick up a friend, and go lock arms with hundreds of like-minded folks to ‘protect’ that day’s abortion clinic and the women who needed its services. We’d stand there silently while the protesters yelled at us and sang their hymns. They’d call us baby killers and murderers.

Sometimes it would be nose to nose, shoulder to shoulder. The protesters would bring their children, too, and they would be singing “Jesus Loves Me” between choruses of “Awesome God.” We’d all be standing in a giant scrum while morning traffic zoomed by, horns honking in support of both sides. Special protectors in orange vests would shepherd each woman into the clinic for her appointment while protesters surged to scream at her. I couldn’t believe how evil and cruel it was to be screaming at a woman when she was in such a terrible situation, when she was cornered.  I wanted to yell at them, “HASN’T ANYTHING BAD EVER HAPPENED TO YOU?

Where is your loving kindness?

And here we are again. Demonizing women. Limiting birth control. Shrinking access to legal and safe abortion. Daring women to go find the wire. All while men can walk away and be free.

It makes my 64-year old soul angrier than almost anything. The extreme hatred for women voiced by politicians, the talk of legitimate rape, the unbelievability of the idea of an ultrasound probe, the intent to demean me/us - it all puts me back on the bus in the dark, by myself, cornered and alone.

It’s so wrong to treat women this way. So wrong.  We just can’t go back.


derekhalealpha101:

liberalbutnotpartisan:

wagrobanite:

think-progress:

Members of Congress are living off food stamps for a week to protest Republican cuts. It’s a challenge for them, but GOP cuts would hurt millions of everyday Americans

Why does this not have more publicity. This needs it!

Signal boosting this A) because it deserves to be seen by more people, and b) because I appreciate some members of Congress are actually willing to see what it’s like living on food stamps in order to make their point about how horrifying cutting food stamps would be.

News flash, regressives: people on food stamps do not load up on Snickers bars and filet mignon. They’re limited in what they can buy, and oftentimes, it’s not enough to get by on. Go on thinking these are entitlements that let minorities live lives of luxury, comfortable in the knowledge that you’ll never go hungry.

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^


NEWSFLASH: You can be poor and own a computer. →

agender-unicorn:

jadedcattybrownbitch:

thegoddamazon:

abaldwin360:

brashblacknonbeliever:

  • You can be poor and have internet access.
  • You can be poor and have a cell phone.
  • You can be poor and have a car.
  • You can be poor and have an air conditioner.
  • You can be poor and have a refrigerator.
  • You can be poor and have cable.
  • You can be poor and have credit cards.
  • You can be poor and have makeup and jewelery.
  • You can be poor and have a gaming console.
  • You can be poor and have a dvd player.
  • You can be poor and have a tv.

None of these things are mutually exclusive. If you think they are, you’re most likely an asshole.

  • You can have a decent job and make a reasonable amount of money and still be poor due to medical debts, divorce, or any number of events that put you in to debt.

The fact that this needs to be said just proves to me that most people aren’t even worth the effort to spit on for thinking otherwise. SMH

Just to add, before people go “omg poor people are stupid they shouldn’t spend their money on such luxuries!”

  • You can get internet access for $30 a month, if not cheaper.  You can even have a laptop and access WiFi hot spots.  Libraries, for example.
  • People can buy used phones, pay-as-you-go phones, etc. People can also buy used computers, laptops, etc.
  • The internet isn’t so much of a luxury anymore because many things are done online, including applying for jobs.
  • Air conditioners and refrigerators come with most apartments and rentals and wtf how the hell are these considered “luxuries?”
  • You can be thrifty and still have good makeup and jewelry.
  • Anybody can give you a gaming console, dvd player, compter, TV, etc. as a gift.  My TV is actually an old one that my older brother didn’t want anymore.
  • Poor people are not all “stupid” and actually know how to get by with little income, unlike bratty, snobby know-it-all middle-class white people who are ignorant enough to believe that if poor people have “nice things,” then they can’t be poor.
  • In my personal experience being poor, I knew how to take care of my shit.  I had/have nice things that last a long time because I took care of it.  I had a computer for 9 years, and I learned how to maintain it and upgrade it myself (er, well, with help from my techie brother with the hardware part).  I still have my PS2 I got as a gift one year. 
  • It’s a-okay for poor people to have nice things and have the same things you have.  If you get illogical feelings of jealousy over poor people having nice things, or fear that maybe you, one day, will be poor, that’s your damn problem.  Get over it and stop being classist assholes.

Ohhh, one more thing I forgot to add…

  • In before, “Maybe you would have more money if you didn’t spend your money on internet access!” lmfao yes that $30 a month can totes pay off my student loans and hospital debt and can certainly help me climb out of the poverty that I’ve been in ever since I’ve been born.  Only it can’t.  Even if poor people didn’t have “nice things,” they would still be poor as hell, only they would have NOTHING.

No seriously, I hate this shit so much.

(Source: womanistgamergirl)


scienceyoucanlove:

Studies show ‘dark chapter’ of medical research
By Elizabeth Landau

(CNN) — The Tuskegee syphilis experiment of the 20th century is often cited as the most famous example of unethical medical research. Now, evidence has emerged that it overlapped with a shorter study, also sponsored by U.S. government health agencies, in which human subjects were unknowingly being harmed by participating in an experiment.

Research from Wellesley College professor Susan Reverby has uncovered evidence of an experiment in Guatemala that infected people with sexually transmitted diseases in an effort to explore treatments.

The U.S. government apologized for the research project on Friday, more than 60 years after the experiments ended. Officials said an investigation will be launched into the matter.

The Tuskegee and the Guatemala studies show what National Institutes of Health Director Francis Collins called a “a dark chapter in the history of medicine.”

As unethical as the methods were, the basic research questions behind both studies were highly relevant at the time, said Peter Brown, medical anthropologist at Emory University. Research in Guatemala focused on the powers of penicillin; in Tuskegee, researchers wanted to know the natural history of syphilis.

"In a racist context, they thought [syphilis] might be different in African-Americans; the real unethical part in my mind had to do with denial of treatment and, most importantly, the denial of information about the study to the men involved," he said.

In 1926, syphilis was seen as a major health problem, according to the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention; in 1928, about 25 percent of black employees at the Delta Pine and Land Company of Mississippi had tested positive for syphilis, according to Tuskegee University. A charity called the Julius Rosenwald Fund came to the U.S. Public Health Service to start a project to improve the health of African-Americans in the South.

But in 1929, the Great Depression began, and the Rosenwald Fund had to cut its funds for the treatment program.

The director of the U.S. Public Health Service, Dr. Taliaferro Clark, proposed salvaging the project by investigating the course of untreated syphilis.

Getting African-Americans to participate was not a challenge; most African-Americans did not have access to medical care at that time and the study provided free health exams, food and transportation, according to Tuskegee University.

But none of the patients who had syphilis was told that he carried the condition, and doctors did not give the patients sufficient treatment. Instead they were told they would get treatment for “bad blood,” a phrase that connoted a variety of illnesses including syphilis, anemia and fatigue, the CDC said.

The Tuskegee study, which began in the early 1930s, consisted of 399 African-American men with syphilis and 201 without, according to the CDC. The Tuskegee Institute partnered with the Public Health Service for an experiment that was supposed to last 6 months. Instead it lasted about 40 years.

While the Tuskegee study was still going in the 1940s, other efforts that would never meet today’s medical ethics standards were going on elsewhere. The Public Health Service did research at a U.S. prison in 1944 that involved injecting inmates with gonorrhea, Reverby said. That project was abandoned, and the Public Health Service turned to Guatemala to more closely examine syphilis and in what ways penicillin could treat or prevent it, Reverby said in documents posted on her website.

"The whole fact that the Public Health Service was very aware about the ethical problems is very characteristic of American international health policy at the time, which was very condescending to other countries," Brown said.

It turns out that a physician at the Public Health Service, Dr. John C. Cutler, participated in both the Guatemala and the Tuskegee experiments. Cutler came to the Tuskegee project in the 1960s, according to Reverby, and continued to defend it even in the 1990s, long after it ended. Cutler died in 2003 at age 87.

The Guatemala syphilis research involved 696 subjects who came from the Guatemala National Penitentiary, army barracks and the National Mental Health Hospital, according to Reverby’s research. These subjects did not give direct permission to participate. Instead, the authorities signed them up. There were also 772 patients exposed to gonorrhea and 142 subjects exposed to chancres, according to a CDC report.

Read more.


unhistorical:

November 12, 1969: An American journalist breaks the story of the My Lai Massacre.

When it took place in March of 1968, the My Lai massacre, which resulted in the death of at least 400 civilians, went unnoticed by the American public. On March 16, American soldiers entered the village of Son My (which contained the My Lai and My Khe hamlets) expecting to engage Viet Cong fighters directly there; in fact, the company’s commanding officer was quoted as telling his men: “They’re all V.C., now go and get them”. The inexperienced soldiers found no evidence of any enemy fighters in the village. Instead of moving on, they began rounding up (unarmed) civilians and shooting them, indiscriminately, brutally - quickly. By the end of the day, the soldiers had finished off (and in some cases tortured or raped) between 347 and 504 civilians. Only one American was injured. 

The Americans who attempted to stop the atrocities - Hugh Thompson, Jr. and his helicopter crew - were denounced by some government officials as traitors; when the My Lai Massacre was revealed to the public, the three men received hate mail and death threats, although all three later received the Soldier’s Medal for their actions, which included saving several villagers. 

Conversely, the conviction and sentence of 2nd Lt. William Calley, who reportedly personally took it upon himself to mow down civilians with a machine gun, was received with anger by the American public. Flags across the country were flown at half-mast in his honor, and more than one state legislature requested clemency. Still, when Seymour Hersh broke the story of the massacre on November 12, 1968 in a report for which he received a Pulitzer Prize, American anti-war sentiment reached new heights, and outrage over the massacre and subsequent cover-up was not only domestic but international as well. In 1970, the United States Army charged over a dozen officers in connection with the massacre, but in the end, only William Calley was convicted - even Calley’s sentence was reduced from life in prison to three years under house arrest. Senior army officials reasoned that Calley had believed that he had simply been “following orders”…

Most photographs of the event were taken by Ronald Haeberle; some of them can be viewed here.