As Terry McAuliffe and Ken Cuccinelli duked it out during the second debate of the Virginia governor’s race last month, Robert Sarvis was on the sidelines, ribbing both candidates on Twitter. Sarvis, who’s running for governor as a Libertarian, was polling at 7 percent, a surprisingly high number for a third party candidate in Virginia. He wasn’t invited to participate in the debate, and his irritation was plain. “Audience needs a shower after all that mudslinging,” he tweeted, adding, “Debate would’ve been more substantive with me on stage. That’s a sure thing. Next time, VA!”
Over the years, New York City Mayor Michael Bloomberg has gotten plenty of flak for his public-health campaigns. Efforts to curb soda drinking, reduce teen pregnancy, and shrink daily caloric intake all fed into an image of Bloomberg as a nagging pest who used the weight of the city government to scare New Yorkers into submission. But in the last few months of his tenure, the Bloomberg administration is offering a more uplifting message. The latest campaign from the mayor’s office isn’t about frightening city residents into kicking a bad habit; targeted at preteen girls, it’s designed to thwart body-image problems before they begin.
AP Images/Jacksonville Journal-Courier/Robert Leistra
Tim Tebow won’t be praying on the football field this fall after being repeatedly cut from NFL teams, but it’s proving more difficult to take religion out of high school games. Despite a string of Supreme Court precedent prohibiting prayer at any school-related activity, every football season, a handful of schools come under fire for permitting students to offer prayers over the loudspeaker before the kick-off or allowing coaches to pray with their teams.
What does it mean to have a good death? Few people long to spend their last hours with their bodies stuck full of tubes, listening to the hum of high-tech equipment under fluorescent lights. Yet every year, hundreds of thousands of Americans die in hospitals, where doctors’ aim is to cure at all costs, using expensive and often invasive treatments to prolong their patients’ lives by days, weeks, or months.
Earlier this summer, Elliott Klug had a plumbing problem on his hands. There was a leak in the drainage line between his marijuana dispensary, Pink House Blooms in Denver, Colorado, and the street. It was a relatively simple fix, but when it came time to pay the plumber, things got more complicated. Because of federal regulations that restrict marijuana business owners’ access to financial services like banking, Klug had no choice but to hand the plumber an envelope with $25,000 in cash. When the plumber tried to deposit the payment, the cash was held in limbo until the bank could count all of the money and verify that it wasn’t laundered—standard operating procedure for such a large cash deposit. Klug says it’s just another daily hassle for marijuana dispensaries, which occupy a strange legal gray area. Under Colorado law, Pink House Blooms is just one more small business, but in the eyes of the federal government, Klug is illegally trafficking one of the most dangerous drugs around.