Credit Courtesy of Archives of Otolaryngology--Head & Neck Surgery
A 9-year-old boy's tongue just before it was freed from the neck of a metal water bottle by Duke University doctors.
Credit Courtesy Archives of Otolaryngology--Head & Neck Surgery
This is a post for all the kids who stick their tongue in places they shouldn't, and the parents who tell them not to.
Late one afternoon last September, an EMT crew delivered a 9-year-old boy to the emergency room at Duke University Hospital in North Carolina. His problem was obvious. His tongue was stuck inside a metal drinking bottle. Really stuck.
The boy was drooling and unable to swallow. He was scared and in pain.
Will Johnson (second from right) with Centro-Matic. The band's new album is called <em>Candidate Waltz</em>.
Credit Matt Pence
Will Johnson may be one of the hardest-working people in indie rock. He leads two bands, records as a solo artist and plays as a sideman in a host of other projects. Johnson is originally from Denton, Texas, and his music — be it the lonesome balladry of South San Gabriel or the rock 'n' roll machine that is Centro-Matic — is inspired by the distinctive sounds of that state.
Bob Ducharme protests changes to Social Security in front of Chicago's Social Security Administration office in 2005. Until recently, AARP had not conceded that Social Security benefits may need to change in the future.
Credit Tim Boyle / Getty Images
For decades, AARP — the nation's largest advocacy group for seniors — has been viewed as the most powerful defender of Social Security. As a result, any hint that the organization might entertain benefit cuts would be seen as an abrupt about-face.
But that's precisely what happened a few days ago, when a front page story in the Wall Street Journal proclaimed that the organization had dropped its longstanding opposition to cutting Social Security benefits.
An early mugshot shows James "Whitey" Bulger in 1953.
Credit Boston Police
Irish mob boss James J. "Whitey" Bulger's scheduled arraignment in a Boston courtroom Friday after 16 years on the lam will open yet another chapter in the violent crime-and-politics family saga that has consumed Beantown reporters since the 1980s.
"I've spent half my career chasing Whitey Bulger around," says Gerard O'Neill, retired head of the Boston Globe investigative team, which in 1988 outed Bulger as an FBI informant since the mid-1970s.