T. Strange's Blog, page 128
August 17, 2013
"Seriously, if we believe a 14 year old is too immature to know how to take a pill, do we really..."
Seriously, if we believe a 14 year old is too immature to know how to take a pill, do we really think she’s adult enough to handle an unwanted pregnancy?
The truth is that the age restriction is completely arbitrary, tied only to our puritanical comfort levels. And listen, I get it; I think it’s fair to say that most people are uncomfortable with the idea of a 14 year old having sex. But here’s the thing - access to Plan B isn’t about keeping a 14 year old from having sex - by the time she gets to the pharmacy, that ship has sailed - it’s about keeping a 14 year old who has already had sex from getting pregnant. And despite what urban legend (or past embarrassing FDA memos) may tell you, making emergency contraception more available is not more likely to make young teens have sex - it will just make them less likely to end up pregnant.
We can’t let our discomfort with teen sex trump young people’s right to sexual and reproductive health and we can’t continue to let politics trump science. If we care about young women’s health and bodily autonomy and integrity, we’ll drop all age restrictions from emergency contraception. Anything less isn’t just illogical - it’s immoral.
”- “Hey, FDA: Drop the Plan B Age Restriction,” my latest at The Nation (via jessicavalenti)
August 16, 2013
it-s-gone-blue:
paradoxiica:
cannibaljackrabbit:
danceswith...
danceswithfaeriesunderthemooon:
Ladies and gentlemen, the British.
“The British”? No, this is white people. Varying degrees, of course, but still common.
White people? Really? You’re any better by generalizing something about a race based on a few idiots? Oh wait. Isn’t that…*gasp* discrimination? Whites aren’t the only ones capable of it. And not all of us are asshats.
^
"Oh it doesn’t taste like cream cheese. It tastes like heaven."
- My sister telling me about a cake (I don’t like cream cheese)
I love all the montages of ‘science!’, ‘typing!’, ‘swabbing!’ on...
I love all the montages of ‘science!’, ‘typing!’, ‘swabbing!’ on CSI.
The post office sent a ‘your mail forwarding will soon end’ notice. I’ve hardly...
The post office sent a ‘your mail forwarding will soon end’ notice. I’ve hardly changed any addresses, and I can’t believe that I’ve lived here for almost six months! Yay procrastination! Yay not moving!
(The really sad thing is that 6 months is 1/4 of how long my wife and I have ever lived in one house/apartment. We have to stop listening to people!)
I decided to be a little proactive and change the address (and last name) for my credit card. She asked a bunch of security questions, and I was like, that was five years ago! Like I’m gonna remember the phone number or what answers I gave? (Luckily, I figured it out).
theolduvaigorge:
carolinafrica:
“The last Neanderthal”. Photo:...
“The last Neanderthal”. Photo: Paul Suprun - Павел Супрун
We think of extinction events in terms of populations, in terms of species but we forget to acknowledge that extinction can happen to people. We forget the minds of the hominids that lived and died unless we’re debating skills and cranial capacities. Neandertals were highly encephalised and I would argue fully capable of a large suite of deep and complex feelings. We’re only now beginning to acknowledge that species other than humans can feel complex emotions; Neandertals certainly did.
So, at some point, perhaps in a glacial refugia ~28kya, I wonder about a family of eight individuals that slowly dwindled into extinction. Three died of old age, two during a hunt, one of sickness and one during childbirth. Leaving only one man, a single intelligent individual who had watched his population decline, who had heard stories from his nan about way back when there were more of their kind, before even she was born. But he doesn’t hope to find others like him anymore amongst the tall, lanky newcomers with their foreign technology that now populate the land. He is 30 and has migrated his whole life across this territory and he hasn’t seen another group like his since he was a child. And now he’s old and alone and knows better than to hope so he sits down with his toolkit and cuts a few pieces of leather off his tunic and plaits them to pass the time and remembers when he was young, when his granddad taught him how to knap and he wonders who will bury him like he buried his own.
biologytextbook:
a support group for people who began using popular slang ironically but now cannot...
a support group for people who began using popular slang ironically but now cannot stop
They’re onto me!!! Damn you, cray cray!
(Now I say crayfish crayfish)
