Adam Victor Brandizzi

nowheresander:

There goes my hero, watch him as he goes.

A democracia nos trouxe mais do que normalmente temos em mente. O momento é confuso e nele precisamos de lucidez e reflexão para avançar. A morte do cinegrafista Santiago Andrade tem de nos ajudar a ver que pisamos em terreno movediço. Outro ponto é...

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Assine O Globo e receba todo o conteúdo do jornal na sua casa

One day in 1880 John Muir set out to explore a glacier in southeastern Alaska, accompanied by Stickeen, the dog belonging to his traveling companion. The day went well, but on their way back to camp they found their way blocked by an immense 50-foot crevasse crossed diagonally by a narrow fin of ice. After long deliberation Muir cut his way down to the fin, straddled it and worked his way perilously across, but Stickeen, who had shown dauntless courage throughout the day, could not be convinced to follow. He sought desperately for some other route, gazing fearfully into the gulf and “moaning and wailing as if in the bitterness of death.” Muir called to him, pretended to march off, and finally ordered him sternly to cross the bridge. Miserably the dog inched down to the farther end and, “lifting his feet with the regularity and slowness of the vibrations of a seconds pendulum,” crept across the abyss and scrambled up to Muir’s side.

And now came a scene! ‘Well done, well done, little boy! Brave boy!’ I cried, trying to catch and caress him; but he would not be caught. Never before or since have I seen anything like so passionate a revulsion from the depths of despair to exultant, triumphant, uncontrollable joy. He flashed and darted hither and thither as if fairly demented, screaming and shouting, swirling round and round in giddy loops and circles like a leaf in a whirlwind, lying down, and rolling over and over, sidewise and heels over head, and pouring forth a tumultuous flood of hysterical cries and sobs and gasping mutterings. When I ran up to him to shake him, fearing he might die of joy, he flashed off two or three hundred yards, his feet in a mist of motion; then, turning suddenly, came back in a wild rush and launched himself at my face, almost knocking me down, all the while screeching and screaming and shouting as if saying, ‘Saved! saved! saved!’ Then away again, dropping suddenly at times with his feet in the air, trembling and fairly sobbing. Such passionate emotion was enough to kill him. Moses’ stately song of triumph after escaping the Egyptians and the Red Sea was nothing to it. Who could have guessed the capacity of the dull, enduring little fellow for all that most stirs this mortal frame? Nobody could have helped crying with him!

Thereafter, Muir wrote, “Stickeen was a changed dog. During the rest of the trip, instead of holding aloof, he always lay by my side, tried to keep me constantly in sight, and would hardly accept a morsel of food, however tempting, from any hand but mine. At night, when all was quiet about the camp-fire, he would come to me and rest his head on my knee with a look of devotion as if I were his god. And often as he caught my eye he seemed to be trying to say, ‘Wasn’t that an awful time we had together on the glacier?’”

Vale a pena ler a entrevista do ex-número dois do Ministério da Fazenda, Nelson Barbosa, ao jornal o Estado de São Paulo publicado no domingo – 16 de fevereiro de 2014 (clique aqui). Apesar de algumas discordâncias, acho que o Nelson ao negar a existência de uma armadilha de baixo crescimento contradiz o seu próprio […]

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theonlymagicleftisart:

Incredible Skullptures by Hedi Xandt

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The Only Magic Left is #ART01

Hey geeks with kids! My friends at EvoS are doing a kickstarter for a kids' book about evolution:

Scénario / dessins / couleurs : Ileana

Ilustrações de Pablo Picasso para uma edição de Lisístrata. Via Open Culture.

A história deste cartaz que você certamente viu.

theladyisagent:

GPOY

Como seriam nossas relações com uma máquina que fosse capaz de crescer, evoluir, aprender igual a um ser humano? E essa máquina, que talvez se tornasse autônoma, como ela se relacionaria conosco? Uso uma distinção famosa, entre apocalípticos e integrados, feita por Umberto Eco em 1965. Os apocalípticos achariam que, se as máquinas se tornassem autônomas, elas planejariam o fim da humanidade: numa revanche parricida contra seu criador, elas seriam exterminadoras do futuro. Os integrados pensariam que máquinas autônomas serão nossos companheiros e companheiras ideais, numa nova era em que nunca nos faltarão amigos. Leia mais (02/13/2014 - 03h02)

20thcenturypix:

Francis Speight, Late Afternoon, 1931

1931

Across the country, NFL players may be wondering if they’ve been wearing pink in vain. In 2009, the United States Preventive Services Task Force changed its advice on mammograms, recommending them only to women over 50, since, below that age, the screening did more harm than good. Now, an exhaustive, twenty-five year study may prompt them to tell all women to cancel their appointments.

In a randomized controlled study (the gold standard of medical research), women who received regular mammograms were no less likely to die of breast cancer than those who went without. Although they received no additional protection, women who were screened paid an additional price. One in five of the cancers or abnormalities identified by mammography were ultimately harmless, but the women went through biopsies in order to be sure. Even worse, one out of every 424 women who were screened received treatment for a nonexistent cancer, enduring needless and debilitating radiation, chemotherapy, or surgery.

It’s tempting to be skeptical whenever a medical recommendation is reversed. If the last thing they told us was wrong, why should we trust them again? However, health care has changed since the advent of mammography. The old studies on the benefits of mammography weren’t necessarily wrong, just out of date. As awareness of breast cancer has increased, self-screenings have begun to do the work of mammography. As cancer drugs have improved, it’s no longer critical to identify diseases at their earliest stages to be able to survive.

But for a patient, who just hears conflicting recommendations, and not a discussion of research methods or the history of medicine, it’s hard not to come away with a sense of unease. It’s hard for doctors, knowing they won’t get to convey the nuances of the change, to finally make the public flip-flop for the sake of their patients.  Not to mention we’ve been hearing every October that mammograms are one of our most potent weapons in the war on breast cancer. After so much relentless cheerleading, it’s hard not to feel a twinge of guilt or fear, when we think of the friend of a friend who had her cancer caught by a mammogram.

While we remain torn between the old recommendation and the new, it’s tempting to stick which the more interventionist option. Doctors and patients would like the comfort of knowing they did something even if what they did wasn’t very good. In fact, breast cancer treatment, as well as its diagnosis, has fallen prey to this rationale.

Women used to receive the Halstead procedure, a particularly radical form of mastectomy in which the doctor would remove the breast, underlying chest muscle, and even, sometimes, muscle in the neck and arm. William Steward Halstead performed the operation in good faith, thinking it was better to do everything he could for his patients, seeking to make the extremity of his surgery match the intensity of his intentions.

The same diseased thinking spreads through our body politic. War hawks accuse non-interventionists of being indifferent to humanitarian causes or national interest, when, in fact, the most ballistically satisfying solution may do more to calm our nerves than to quiet regional tensions. Politicians, like medical regulatory boards, become fearful of admitting that facts on the ground have changed since they made a decision, and the employer mandate doesn’t make much sense in a slack labor market.

In medicine and in politics, we’re always best prepared to fight the previous war, not the present one. Our clinical trial data and our policy maneuvers are always premised on information that’s a little out of date. But medicine has been more adept at recognizing the limitations of its data, resampling, and redeploying its resources.

Public policy is rarely put to any test more rigorous than that of public opinion, and, even the few empirical checks on rhetoric are often methodologically flawed, as in the case of the non-randomized pilot programs of the Obamacare Innovation Center.

Despite the headlines, the Canadian study didn’t expose an embarrassing error; it exemplified a robust culture of error-checking, one that’s still missing from American elections.

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