This is one of the most powerful videos I have ever seen. Inspired by the March of a Thousand Robes in Poland, retired and sitting judges in the United States walked down the streets of Columbus to stand up for the Rule of Law.
That people can’t/don’t read anymore, along with the fact that Harvard students can’t read cursive in primary documents (another Atlantic article), means that very soon we will have a special class of people with the ability to read old works who will interpret the past for us.
That is obviously very dangerous. One of the best things you can do for not only yourself but the world is to read books. Especially old and challenging ones.
Me, a Germanic Pagan: "Oh like Sol and Máni. Men's restroom is the moon door then."
My buddy Alexandra, a Hellenist: "Oh like Apollo and Artemis. Women to then moon I guess."
My buddy Ken, a Shintoist: "Oh like Amaterasu and Tsukuyomi. Gotta go right."
He’s right, I hate when I look something up and it shows me 4 results and the rest are shorts that usually aren’t even related, it’s so annoying, the app has become so useless
23 Years since Disney released a Film that's Grand Thesis is "Breaking the law can be Moral and an Agent of Good because the System itself is often Immoral" and I think that it's genuinely still one of the most Potent Endings to ever come out of Hollywood!! A total Mic Drop.
The Hobbit is a children’s book, and the fact that so many grown people find the syntax and language difficult just further shows how far we’ve fallen from a cliff intellectually since it was first published in 1937.
I don't know anything about womenswear, but I stumbled upon Caleigh O'Donnell's Instagram last year and find her content to be very smart. Goes beyond "here's how to look cool" or "everyone needs this" cliches. Many frameworks can be applied to menswear.
IG itscalbal
In an era where real human-made art and animation is at serious risk I beg folks to please support this gorgeously crafted film. Those folks have been through hell to finally get it made and out there and they deserve success.
Every carton of milk you have ever pulled from a refrigerator was designed by a woman locked inside a freezing boxcar in 1905.
Her name was Mary Engle Pennington. She was thirty-two years old. She was a Quaker-raised bacteriological chemist from Philadelphia with a Ph.D. from the University of Pennsylvania. She was the first woman ever hired as a scientist by the Bureau of Chemistry — the federal agency that would eventually become the U.S. Food and Drug Administration.
Her job, on paper, was to sit at a back desk and file paperwork.
Instead, she strapped a thermometer to her belt, climbed into a moving freight train in the Chicago rail yards, and let them lock the door behind her.
Then she did it again. And again. Five hundred times over two years.
In 1905, most Americans died young because of food.
Milk shipped from Wisconsin dairies to Manhattan tenement apartments arrived in wooden barrels packed with dirty lake ice harvested from frozen ponds. By the time it reached the city, half of it was curdled. Dairies covered the sour smell with formaldehyde. Butchers rubbed borax on decomposing beef to hide the rot. Children in New York and Philadelphia were dying by the thousands every summer from milk-borne bacterial infections.
The federal government had almost no power to stop it.
Dr. Harvey Wiley, the head of the Bureau of Chemistry, was fighting to change that. He needed a scientist willing to prove — in hard, incontrovertible temperature-log data — exactly how and why the American food supply was rotting in transit.
He needed someone who would ride in the refrigerator cars.
He knew exactly who he wanted.
Pennington was the daughter of a Quaker family that had moved from Nashville to West Philadelphia when she was three. She had discovered chemistry at twelve by borrowing a college-level textbook from the public library. She had completed the coursework for a bachelor of science in chemistry at Penn's Towne Scientific School — and the university's trustees had refused to grant a woman a degree. They handed her a "certificate of proficiency" instead.
She stayed anyway. She kept working. She wrote a doctoral thesis. She forced the same trustees to grant her a Ph.D. at twenty-two.
Wiley had known the Pennington family for twenty years. He knew what she could do.
In 1905 he had her take the federal civil-service exam under the signature M. E. Pennington. The score guaranteed a hire. When she walked into the Bureau of Chemistry office the following Monday, the personnel officer realized what had happened. Federal law required them to hire her anyway.
They tried to bury her at a back desk.
She spent one week doing filing. Then she walked into Wiley's office and asked for the rail schedules.
The Bureau had no cold-weather field gear cut for a woman. She went to a Washington department store and bought her own — heavy wool skirts, oversized men's sweaters, thick wool socks, leather-lined boots. She packed a glass thermometer, a set of sterile glass sampling vials, a leather-bound ledger, and a fountain pen.
She walked into the Chicago slaughterhouse rail yards at dawn.
She climbed into the ice bunkers of moving freight cars packed with raw poultry and beef. The doors were locked from the outside. She sat in the freezing dark for hours. She measured the temperature wall by wall, floor to ceiling, corner to corner. She sampled the meat every three hours. She wrote everything down in the ledger.
She did five hundred of these expeditions over the next two years. She slept in cabooses on rural sidings. She caught pneumonia twice. She kept going.
The rail companies had believed for fifty years that cold air, once loaded into a boxcar with ice, would fill the space evenly.
Pennington's measurements proved them wrong.
Cold air fell to the floor. It stayed there. Warm air generated by rotting cargo rose to the ceiling and stagnated. The meat stacked near the roof was slowly cooking in its own bacterial gases while the meat near the floor was flash-frozen solid. The corners of the cars had dead zones the cold air never reached at all.
She discovered that a constant thirty-two degrees Fahrenheit — exactly at the freezing point of water — completely halted the growth of the specific bacterial strains that caused most food-borne deaths.
The average American refrigerator car was operating at forty-five degrees.
She drafted a complete redesign specification. Exact ice-bunker dimensions. Elevated floor racks so cold air could circulate underneath the cargo. Precise insulation thickness in the walls. Ventilation channels to move air through the dead zones in the corners.
The rail industry fought her. Their lawyers, their lobbyists, their Congressional influence, and the political backing of the meatpacking monopolies. They argued a female chemist could not tell railroad engineers how to build trains.
She did not argue back.
She published the temperature data.
The rail companies could not dispute the math. They eventually adopted her specifications wholesale. Spoilage rates collapsed. Big-city childhood mortality from milk-borne infection dropped inside a decade.
Her defining test came in April 1917.
The United States entered the First World War. The War Department needed to move thousands of tons of perishable American beef across the Atlantic to the Western Front. The commercial rail industry contributed forty thousand refrigerator cars to the war effort.
Pennington evaluated every single one.
Only three thousand of the forty thousand — seven and a half percent — met her institutional standard. She spent the next eighteen months personally overseeing the emergency retrofit of the other thirty-seven thousand cars. She standardized freezing at the slaughterhouses before the meat ever touched a train. She specified the exact temperature the ocean cargo holds had to maintain from Chicago to Brest.
The spoilage stopped. The troops were fed.
She served on Herbert Hoover's War Food Administration through the end of the war. In 1919 she left the federal government. In 1922 she founded her own refrigeration-engineering consulting firm, which she ran until she died. In 1923 she founded the Household Refrigeration Bureau to educate American consumers about the emerging home-refrigerator revolution.
In 1940 the American Chemical Society awarded her the Francis P. Garvan Gold Medal.
She was still consulting on a commercial refrigeration project the week she died — on December 27, 1952, in New York City, at eighty years old.
In 2018, sixty-six years after her death, she was inducted into the National Inventors Hall of Fame.
You walk into a grocery store in July. You pull a carton of milk from the back of the case. You do not smell it for rot. You open it. You pour it.
You are drinking from the specification of a woman who let them lock her in the freezing dark for two years to prove she was right.
If her story stayed with you, drop one word in the comments — Mary, ice, thirty-two, anything that comes to mind. Tap the like button so more people find this story. The page is small. Every reaction helps us keep telling stories like this one.
Her name was Helen Hulick. She was 28, a kindergarten teacher, and she had come to a Los Angeles courtroom for a simple reason: to testify against two men who had burglarized her home.
She wasn't on trial. She was the witness. But when she walked in wearing slacks, Judge Arthur S. Guerin halted the entire hearing over her outfit and sent her home to change.
Hulick didn't change. She told a reporter she'd worn slacks since she was 15 and had no plans to stop.
She came back in slacks. The judge stopped the trial again, scolding her for drawing more attention than the actual crime. He gave her a final warning: wear pants once more, and she'd go to jail for it.
She wore the pants.
Her attorney showed up carrying four volumes of legal citations proving no law required her to wear a dress. It didn't matter. The judge held her in contempt on the spot, and Helen Hulick was handcuffed in open courtroom and taken to jail, where she was made to wear a denim prison dress instead.
The story broke nationally. Newspapers from coast to coast ran it. Letters of protest flooded the courthouse.
Four days later, an appellate court overturned the contempt charge entirely, ruling that a witness's clothing had nothing to do with justice. Helen was free. When she finally returned to finish her testimony months later, she wore a formal dress — not because anyone ordered her to, but because by then, the point had already been made.
Within a few years, the world she'd fought in caught up to her. As American women went to work in wartime factories, slacks stopped being scandalous and simply became what women wore to work.
But here's the part almost nobody knows: Helen went on to spend the next 40 years as a pioneer in teaching deaf children to speak, founding a speech and hearing center that bore her name for decades after.
Most people who've heard of Helen Hulick know her as "the woman who went to jail for wearing pants."
Almost nobody knows she spent the rest of her life teaching children to find their voice.
It’s 250 years of freedom for white men only.
It’s 106 years of voting freedom for white women.
It’s 72 years of voting freedom for Asian immigrants.
It’s 61 years of voting freedom for Black people.
It’s 51 years of voting rights for Native Peoples, but we all know that’s a farce when their lands were stripped from them and their ways of life were classified illegal.
It’s 10 years of marriage freedom for queer couples.
It’s 0 years of voting freedom for Puerto Ricans.
Work-from-home uniforms, 18th century. The long coat, known as a banyan, was typically made from silk brocades, damask, or printed cottons, sometimes quilted for warmth or featuring a fashionable cuff. They were commonly worn with an undress cap or a turban.
It really pisses me off how all this legislation is trying to use "protect the kids " as a scapegoat but when the kids exercise free speech, suddenly it's a problem. The blatant hypocrisy is disgusting.
The entire country is in debt because of the money hoarding assholes that have more money than anyone needs for twenty lifetimes. And when they want more they can have their homie in the White House print more money for their no-bid government contracts while the rest of us can barely afford to fucking live. We need a revolution. That’s how you fix broken, corrupted elections. You demand to be obeyed through civil discourse continuously until you are heard.
Her name was Ahed Tamimi. She grew up in Nabi Saleh -a small Palestinian village where protests against Israeli military presence were a weekly occurrence. When 7 Israeli soldiers shot her 15 year old cousin in the face with a rubber bullet outside their home. Hours later two soldiers appeared in her courtyard. Ahed walked up to one and slapped him. The video went viral instantly.
That night the Israeli army returned. Dozens of soldiers. 3am. They arrested her in her bedroom. She was 16 years old. Her trial was held behind closed doors. She was sentenced to 8 months in prison. The world erupted. Amnesty International, the UN, governments across the globe demanded her release.
She served every day of her sentence.
She walked out of prison at 17 unbroken. The soldier she slapped was never charged. She became the face of Palestinian resistance for an entire generation.
NYC Mayor Zohran Mamdani speaks on finding his wife on dating app Hinge, revealing that he fell in love with her at first sight, and says they both ended up deleting the app after meeting each other ❤️🩹🙌
“I think I was in love from the moment I saw her photo. I screenshotted her Hinge profile before she even matched back… I’m very much a romantic… And then when you meet the love of your life, to actually be living what felt like a fantasy when you first saw their face, it’s hard to believe.”