Soon Youll Swallow Origami Pills and Get Magnetic Colonoscopies

This might be a tough pill to swallow, but the future of medicine is all about ingestible sensors. Things like cameras to scope out your bowels and electronics that detect if youve taken your medicine (recently FDA-approved, by the way).

Also, swallowable origami. Researchers at MIT have developed a frozen gizmo made of pig intestine that you drop down the hatch. As it thaws in your stomach, it unfolds. Using a magnetic field, a doctor could theoretically lead the device to something youve gone and swallowed but really shouldnt havebatteries aren’t as tasty as they lookand hurry the offending object out of your system.

Theoretically. The researchers have so far only tested the device on a model of a pig stomach. But its a fascinating glimpse into the future of incision-free surgery, one propelled in large part by magnets.

So a doctor has guided the battery out of you. (Oh and no, not the way it came in. The other more involved route.) But the battery may have leaked and stuck to the lining of your stomach. Luckily, as the pill technology improves, so will the capabilities. “In the second phase there would be another capsule you send to patch the wound or deliver medicine,” says MITs Daniela Rus, who developed the origami pill. No need to cut the patient open. Aces.

Aside from traditional surgery being rather traumatic, doctors also have the problem of anesthesia. Namely, its best avoided. And that has inspired a similar experiment to the origami pill: the next-gen magnetic colonoscopy.

I dont reckon I need to explain to you how a colonoscopy works, other than to say doctors have to knock you out for it. “The problem is, not everybody can get sedated,” says roboticist Pietro Valdastri of Vanderbilt University. “Its a very powerful drug if youve got a heart problem.”

So Valdastri is developing—with funding from the National Institutes of Health—a colonoscopy robot that uses the origami pills principle of magnetic guidance. Instead of pushing a tube through a patient’s digestive system, the doctor would pull it through the intestines using a magnet on a robotic arm outside the patients body (the device is equipped with a camera, just like a regular colonoscope). This eliminates the discomfort of forcefully pushing the colonoscope through—and the need for anesthesia. Valdastri hopes to have it in human trials in three years, so a very magnetic colonoscopy could be in your near future.

Back at the other end of the body, a company called Proteus Digital Health has skipped all the folding and magnets and developed teeny-tiny sensors for pills because, well, medicating is hard. Fewer than 50 percent of patients the world over are taking their medications correctly. The rest of you clowns are misusing your medicines. “As they go through this therapy that’s often months or years or the rest of their lives,” says George Savage, chief medical officer of Proteus. “There’s no feedback to tell them if they’re doing a good job or not, if the therapy is helping them or not, or just what to do next.”

Proteus is out to end all that. Its FDA-approved sensor, measuring just 1 mm by 1 mm by 300 microns, easily fits in a pill. Once that pill hits a patients stomach, the sensor pings a patch on skin, which in turn beams the data to a smartphone app. Thats extremely valuable information, both to help forgetful patients keep accurate tabs on their dosages, as well as their doctors.

Consider the case of a patient thats a habitual double-upper, forgetting to take a pill in the morning and instead taking two at night. They may tell their doctor theyre using all their medication, and indeed they are, but this regimen is problematic. There’s no way to address this patient’s problem unless you see the pattern, says Savage. With sensor-packed pills, the physician is able to say, Oh, I see what you’re doing. That can be dangerous.

It aint got the theatrics of swallowable origami, but it is a taste of a future where a pill is far more than a pill. Not that you should start eating batteries anytime soon. Or ever, really. Lets say ever.

Read more: http://www.wired.com/2016/05/soon-youll-swallow-origami-pills-get-magnetic-colonoscopies/

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Your Parents Are Going Out Of Town. Host The Party Of The Year!

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BEEP! BEEP! BEEP! coos your alarm clock, like a shrill lover.

Its the time of day Morning, and high schools going to happen any minute now. The sleep falls from your eyes like eye-scabs.

Are you ready to get out there and learn?

BEEP! BEEP! BEEP! screams your clock again, but later now. Does it hate you? Yes.

Anyway, probably time to get up, right?

You keep hitting snooze, and eventually, your clock gives up, because humans will always beat machines in the end.

You sleep for a long, long time. You dream about gliding over a small island nation ruled by batteries, and about French-kissing your cousin with the two lazy eyes. You manage to lucid dream for a little while too, but, like, barely, if that makes sense.

Suddenly, someones shaking you awake.

An ancient, weather-beaten man stands over you, crusted with the gunk of eternity. His lips part with a crackling torrent of flakes, and the clacking of his hard, black tongue against his last two teeth dislodges one, which clatters to the floor. His voice sounds like the flutter of wax paper in a wind tunnel.

My child…oh, my child…finally, you wake…so long…so long….

The light leaves the eyes of the man who was your father. Hot wind whistles through the ruins of what was your house. The sky glows red-black with bone ash. There is no going back to what was. Time, as always, is the final victor.

Bam! Youre up and moving. Shower, shit, shave: You tackle em all with the bright-eyed ferocity of youth. Obviously, you are a good person.

From downstairs, you can hear your parents going through their morning routine.

Your beautiful white parents greet you, radiating love and self-importance.

Child! says your mother.

Our child! says your father.

Take your gut medication and listen upwe have an announcement.

Heres the deal, says your mother. Its our 25th high school reunion this weekend.

Our beloved principals been sitting pretty in hospice, says your father, and theyre going to euthanize him in a cream-filled pool at the center of our old gymnasium and loose black doves right there in the gym.

It is what it is, says your mother. Point is, starting tonight, well be away all weekend.

Youre welcome to have a few friends over, but dont you dare forget our Three Major Rules.

Major Rule One: Dont even touch our sprawling collection of tiny airplane liquor bottles. We flew far and wide to amass them.

Major Rule Two: Our bedroom is completely off-limits, no matter what. We know exactly how many coins are in our beds Magic Fingers box; youre not getting one past us.

And, of course, Major Rule Three: Dont invest in wearable tech. Its nothing but a losing bet.

Remember, says your father, we dont make the Major Rules. Were just trying to keep the family curse from befalling you, as it befell us.

Anyway, theres sorghum in the freezer and a few bills scattered around the house if you want to order a rice dish, says your father. Have fun, and we love you!

Your parents embrace you. They smell like a cave.

Phew! You manage to slip into first period while your teachers back is turned, and your classmates let you know that theyre not going to rat you out. The Truants Crown stays put. Were all we have in this fucked-up world.

All through class, your thoughts keep turning to your empty house. With your parents gone, there are no limits on what you could do. You could quietly watch a movie by yourself, quietly read an atlas by yourself, rearrange furniture, or even…

No.

Could you?

Yeah. Yeah. There hasnt been a good party in this town since Chet Dwyhers summer thing where Emelia Barlow full-on yakked in the saline pool and gave the whole debate team staph. Kids are craving a rager; you can feel it in the hallways.

Youve got the means, the motive, and the opportunity. Its finally time for you to commit the perfect crime of throwing a big, fun party for young people in your home.

You bounce the notion off of a few of your chiller classmates, and theyre nothing but enthusiastic. Time to get the word out.

But how?

Sure, yeah. You spend the rest of your school day bothering nobody, then book it home to shut the door to your room and tinkle out Oh! Susanna over and over again on your chintzy little crank box. Over and over and over. The sun dips and you nod off, hand on the crank. Then dawn breaks and youre back up, awake and cranking. A couple times a day, you creep silently out of your room to do a little gnaw-work on a curry-flavored popped rice patty, but mainly, youre cranking. Nobody calls you; nobody texts.

And so you spend the weekend like every other weekend before and like youll spend all your weekends to come.

Share Your Results

At lunch, you track down Theo, hunk supreme. His popularitys undeniable; hook him and hell bring everyone worth partying with. Plus, hes secretly your everything.

Per usual, hes at his favorite brooding spot by the school koi pond, dictating Medium article drafts into Evernote. Your heart pounds as you approach. Better play it cool.

Oh. Hey, says Theo, flicking on his shades with sexual grace. Then he does the thing where he makes his voice sound like a DJ: Wicky wicky what up.

Your hearts leaping out of your throat. Maybe he forgot to turn off dictation and this whole conversations going to end up in one of his Medium articles. Those things pull down 40, 50 likes, easy.

A party? At your place? he says, gears turning in that beautiful goddamn head of his. There hasnt been a good party in this town since Yonis Halloween sangria thing where Buck Dades hand got fused to that bottle of Mexican Coke he microwaved. That ruled.

Yeah, all right, he says finally. Im down. Expect me at midnight.

He doesnt crack a smile, but he does give you a long look. Like, almost a pre-sex look, kind of?

You spend the rest of the day in a blur of pedagogy, consumed by fantastic visions of the party to come. Games of Flips Cup…popular inside jokes…sexual reckonings…. Also, the stupid fucking word debauchery keeps popping into your head.

Whispers and glances follow you through the halls. Looks like words spreading fast. Could this party truly be all that?

At home, you spend hours painstakingly prepping a sumptuous tandoori buffet. Just as you light the last chafing dish, the doorbell rings.

Of course the first ones to show up are freshmen. And of course its exactly 8 p.m. They giggle in some dog-whistle register and twirl their youthful forelocks. One offers you a handful of cheddar popcorn from her pocket. Jesus, these kids.

Oh, well. Parties need bodies.

They scuttle past you and start climbing into cupboards and drawers in search of sweets and dampness, gibbering in their larval patter at a breakneck pace. It makes you shudder to think you were once one of them.

The doorbell rings again. Looks like the varsity wrestling teams here!

Hanging their heads, they scuttle off the porch and into the night in search of sweets and dampness, gibbering in their morose larval patter at a breakneck pace. It makes you shudder to think you were once one of them.

The doorbell rings again. Awesome, looks like the varsity wrestling teams here!

Go Feral Children! they trumpet, hailing your schools universally despised mascot. The volume makes your parents liquor nip collection clatter in the next room. They roll in a glass keg of cranberry juice and set up shop on the stairs. Okay!

Kids are arriving steadily nowsome you know, many you dont. They track mud on your Brazilian cherry floors and probably have diseases. Youve never felt so free in your own home.

Theres a knock at the door, loud and powerful.

Whoa, damn! College kids! Probably from the local Inland Coast Guard Academy. These guys absolutely radiate cool, and their effect on the vibe is palpable.

We heard youre having a party, they say. Their breath smells like unsmoked cigarettes. No such thing as a party without several college kids. Glennon, Dashley, James, Turrell: lets lurk.

They breeze past you with barely a nod. Damn.

Things are finally heating up. Some senior brought his own DJ equipment and plugged into your houses intercom system, and a dance floors picking up in the basement. The ESL kids are setting up Flips Cup in the dining room. And out in the backyard: groping!

The only thing that would make this more fun is if you had any friends at all in the whole world. Oh, well.

Where will you hang?

Contemporary music envelops you as you descend the stairs. Human sweat chokes the air, but its the good, consensual kind of choking. Your basements been transformed from your dads furtive jerk-off nook into a roiling discothque.

Time to get busy.

Whoa! Whoa!! You landed it! First try! A front flip! Right on the dance floor in front of everyone! People are screaming, howling, crossing themselves. What an absolute high point of your young life.

Another! the other kids bellow. Again!

You get 180 degrees in before whatever beginners luck you were riding runs out, and you eat shit head-first against an unyielding floor. Your neck crumbles like a stomped-on sandcastle. Somewhere very far away, your peers are shrieking. Youre suddenly very, very tired.

Oh, no, you think dully, a chill youll never shake settling into the parts of you that still feel, I ruined the party.

And guess what: Its true.

You flop your developing body around in a way thats hopefully not sickening, and you know what? It feels pretty good! Lyrics wrap around you as you groove:

There is a place
Called Rhythm
Where my familys got a condo

Youre flying now. The beats in your spine, in your fingertips, driving you on and on.

Theres only two beds,
But the couch pulls out,
And weve got air mattresses,
Child

Youre so cocooned in rhythmic bliss that it takes you a minute to notice someones tapping your shoulder.

Its your lab partner, Nico something! In your basement! Incredible. What a party. Whats up, Nico?

Hey! he says. This dance floor sucks. Your party sucks. Everyones dead sober and afraid of each other. Everyones too busy thinking about the bad choices theyve made in their lives to make more bad choices. Fix itwith alcohol.

Please, he adds, I need this.

Nico was right. Not half an hour later, the party is sputtering out painfully, like a botched execution. Agonizingly self-conscious and throbbing with frustrated desires, your classmates abandon the punctured submarine of your failed rager to go privately paw each other in guest rooms or smoke pot through dryer sheets. Youre left alone in your dark, trashed, empty house.

On Monday, you learn that your new nickname is Brigitte Bardot because no one can quite believe youre not yet dead.

The dining room scene is way less fun up close. Flips Cup is fully assembled and polished, and the chalk lines are all drawn, but nobodys playing. The ESL kids are all kind of standing around silently.

Your state defunded its ESL programs to keep young people who dont speak each others languages from radicalizing each other in English, so when they see you, the ESL kids can only gesticulate meaninglessly, trying to make themselves understood. Its hard to watch.

The ESL kids stare at you with pleading eyes, gesturing frantically and pointing to Flips Cup. Christ, they just sit in silence all day in their bare ESL classroom, dont they? Cant understand each other, cant understand their classmates, confined to their immediate families, imprisoned in their own heads….

Youre so wrapped up in your rhapsody of woe that it takes you a minute to notice someones tapping your shoulder.

Its your lab partner, Nico something! In your house! Incredible. What a party. Whats up, Nico?

Hey! he says. They want alcohol. Everybody does. Your party sucks. Everyones dead sober and afraid of each other. Everyones too busy thinking about the bad choices theyve made in their lives to make more bad choices. Fix itwith alcohol.

Please, he adds, I need this.

The odorless night air is shot through with the comingled sounds of the human grope-sperience. Three, even four couples are out here, straddling your parents demodernist patio furniture, getting at each other with hand and knee.

This must be what Greece was like, you marvel.

Somebody unmistakably a sophomore saunters your way, introducing himself in a throaty voice as Ulrich. Like a perfect gentleman, he asks if youre in the mood to grope, light as you please.

Things are still bumping. Still no friends.

Where will you hang?

With a gentle hand, you flutter your fingers up and down over Ulrich, lingering here and there, ministering to sensitivities over his fabrics. The steady clacking of the several Halls in his mouth sets the tempo. Dulce, he breathes.

After the standard two minutes, Ulrich gives your shoulder an appreciative pat and offers to return the favor, in grope form.

Ulrich swallows one of the Halls in his cheek and cracks his knuckles. His finger-touch roaming your body feels like the sure, agile scrambling of a circus raccoon. He manages you and your this-and-thats with the practiced ease of a street magician. Its nice enough for Friday night.

The standard two minutes up, he thanks you generously for your time, turns, and walks into the swallowing dark of the yard. Bye, Ulrich.

Reminiscing about just now, youre caught off guard by a tap on the shoulder.

Ulrich swallows one of the Halls in his cheek and cracks his knuckles. His finger-touch roaming your body feels like the sure, agile scrambling of a circus raccoon. He manages you and your this-and-thats with the practiced ease of a street magician. Its nice enough for Friday night.

After the standard two minutes, Ulrich gives your shoulder an affable pat and offers to let you return the favor, in grope form.

With a gentle hand, you flutter your fingers up and down over Ulrich, lingering here and there, ministering to sensitivities over his fabrics. The steady clacking of the several Halls in his mouth sets the tempo. Dulce, he breathes.

The standard two minutes up, he thanks you generously for your time, turns, and walks into the swallowing dark of the yard. Bye, Ulrich.

Reminiscing about just now, youre caught off guard by a tap on the shoulder.

Its your lab partner, Nico something! In your yard! Incredible. What a party. Whats up, Nico?

Hey! he says. Me and this one had to get out of there. We dont even want to grope. I mean, we will anyway, but either way, you should know…your party sucks. Everyones dead sober and afraid of each other. Everyones too busy thinking about the bad choices theyve made in their lives to make more bad choices. Fix itwith alcohol.

Please, he adds, I need this.

You turn to head inside and manage to walk straight into someone. Its your lab partner, Nico something! In your yard! Incredible. What a party. Whats up, Nico?

Hey! he says. Me and this one had to get out of there. We dont even want to grope. I mean, we will anyway, but either way, you should know…your party sucks. Everyones dead sober and afraid of each other. Everyones too busy thinking about the bad choices theyve made in their lives to make more bad choices. Fix itwith alcohol.

Please, he adds, I need this.

Woof. Nicos right. This party is sputtering fast. Conversations end before they begin. Tongues remain firmly locked in their respective mouths. Nobodys doing anything to anyone. Its sickening, frankly.

If this goes south, what little reputation youve eked out for yourself to date will be erased overnight, and youll get stuck forever with a nickname like Challenger or Columbia or Loose Stool.

Gotta do something to defibrillate your party, and quickly.

You head to the upstairs walk-in that houses your white parents miniature plane liquor collection and punch in the code. The door swings open.

Inside sits the product of decades of sober flying: hundreds of miniature liquor bottles from the world over. Your parents openly refer to this collection as their second child. Youve always resented them for it.

Surely they wont miss a few dozen of these. Your party needs them.

A shiver moves through you. Youve never broken a Major Rule before. You feel rambunctious and beautiful, like a pageant child.

You unscrew the tiny cap and shoot back the snake wine, little bitsy snakelet and all. The taste is completely different from the artificial snake flavor youre used tomore serpentineand it burns all the way down, but heres the thing: It burns so good.

Congratulations! You have unlocked your Snake Animus. This will definitely be invaluable to you during some future internship. Great choice; no consequences.

As soon as you return, alcohol sloshing in your arms, a cry ripples through the house and teen hands swoop down, picking your bounty apart. Theres a moment of profound silence while all available teen mouths are occupied in suckling down adult milk, and then, with a roar, the party roars back to life.

Through the crowd, you catch Nicos eye. He nods, eyes smiling, and fades, just like that, into a flutter of sparkling dust. Whoa….

A shiver moves through you. Youve never broken a Major Rule before. You feel rambunctious and beautiful, like a pageant child.

As soon as you return, alcohol sloshing in your arms, a cry ripples through the house and teen hands swoop down, picking your bounty apart. Theres a moment of profound silence while all available teen mouths are occupied in suckling down adult milk, and then, with a roar, the party roars back to life.

Through the crowd, you catch Nicos eye. He nods, eyes smiling, and fades, just like that, into a flutter of sparkling dust. Whoa….

The new vibe is out of fucking control. Kids are climbing on each other like furniture and fingering the furniture like pop culture taught them to. Shirts are practically flying off their bodies. Like, theyre not really, but they practically are.

If anything, its too out of control. What if someone gets dehydrated, or tries to incite a pogrom? This town definitely doesnt need another teen pogrom on its hands.

Maybe you should say something?

It accomplishes nothing. Your gut churns as you wonder if encouraging underage drinking could possibly have been a mistake.

Hey! yells a track kid, holding one of your monogrammed towels to a cut on his forehead. Who wants to play Not My House? There are no rules because its not your house! Everyone in earshot wants to play.

If only Theo were here. He knows how to command a room. He says fascism both repulses and transfixes him, and considers himself a future leader of men.

Wait, whats that police-sounding siren?

6 Breathtaking Places To Keep A Blu-Ray Disc Of Hidalgo

The world is full of beautiful places to keep a copy of this 2004 action-adventure film.

1. Cliffs of Moher, Ireland

These 120-foot sheer rock faces that plunge into the churning Atlantic below are truly stunning natural jewels, and a great spot to stash a Blu-ray copy of Hidalgo. Whether its placed on the lush green fields above or nestled in the rocky shoals below, theres no wrong choice at this incredible locale.

2. Nailed to the giant sequoia tree General Sherman

If youre looking for a more secure place to put your stunning 1080p copy of Hidalgo, hide it away in an awe-inspiring natural treasure of your choosing. A lush meadow; a soaring mountain pass; a long-forgotten brookno matter where you put it, make sure not to tell anyone.

5. Big Sur

Oh my God, Big Sur is just amazing.

6. Balanced on top of another Blu-ray copy of Hidalgo

Via Touchstone Pictures

Majesty meets majesty. There are truly no words to describe such a stirring tableau, and no equal to it anywhere on this earth.

Read more: http://www.clickhole.com/article/6-breathtaking-places-keep-blu-ray-disc-hidalgo-4217

After gorilla death, try empathy — not blame

(CNN)What if it was just a tragic accident?

In today’s finger-pointing, name-calling media world, can you even conceive of a scenario where no one is really “at fault”?

Miami

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You can armchair quarterback the parents or second-guess the zoo’s decision to shoot the gorilla all day long. The bottom line is that, as heartbreaking as it is, the zoo did what it had to do under the circumstances. When it’s a decision between saving a child or saving an animal, you always pick the human being.
The whole episode is sad — a child is safe, but another living being has died. What’s even more tragic is our insatiable need to find fault in everything that happens in life. In that regard, we are all at fault here.
What if instead of lawyering up and assigning blame like we always do, we take a step back in this instance and try a little empathy? The parents didn’t throw the kid into the enclosure, the crowd didn’t mean to agitate Harambe and the zoo didn’t want to have to kill him.
The situation was horrible for everyone involved. It was an accident. And I for one am thanking our lucky stars it wasn’t worse.

Read more: http://www.cnn.com/2016/05/30/opinions/gorilla-zoo-death-dont-judge-mel-robbins/index.html

Cristiano Ronaldo fires Real Madrid to Champions League glory

(CNN)Cristiano Ronaldo fired home the winning penalty as Real Madrid won Europe’s biggest prize for the 11th time in its history.

Ronaldo held his nerve to beat Jan Oblak from the spot after Real had been held to a 1-1 draw by Atletico Madrid in the Champions League final.
Juanfran, the Atletico defender, was the unfortunate man to miss his spot kick — striking the post and allowing Ronaldo to fire his team to glory.
It was a dramatic conclusion to a game which only caught light in the later stages.
Sergio Ramos had headed Real in front after 15 minutes before Atletico hit back after the break.
Antoine Griezmann, scorer of 32 goals this season, should have equalized just after the interval but the forward struck the crossbar from the penalty spot after Fernando Torres had been fouled.

Carrasco

Real, so dominant in the first period, was reduced to playing on the break and both Ronaldo and Gareth Bale went close as Atletico pushed up in search of an equalizer.
That equalizer eventually arrived 11 minutes from time — and when it came it was Carrasco who made sure. The winger met Juanfran’s delightful cross at the far post and steered the ball past the helpless Keylor Navas.
That strike sparked wild scenes of jubilation with Carrasco racing away to celebrate by kissing his girlfriend in the stands while his teammates danced their way up the touchline.
Buoyed by restoring parity, Atletico moved forward in search of the goal which would prevent the tie from moving into extra time. Carrasco, a constant menace in attack, began to run Real ragged as those in white began to fade in the Milan night.
Ramos, never one to shy away from a tackle, was booked for a rather over enthusiastic foul on Carrasco to deny the Belgian a run on goal as the tie finished level after 90 minutes.

End game

Real, looking increasingly weary, appeared to be struggling to compete with Atletico’s energy levels with Simeone’s side dominating the contest. And yet, it was Real which could have moved ahead when Ronaldo was presented with a free header at goal only to fluff his lines.
Both teams began to suffer in the final period of extra-time with numerous players struggling with cramp at the end of an exhausting season.
In the end it was left to penalties to decide the outcome of the tie and when Juanfran struck a post to leave his side 3-4 behind, it left Atletico at the mercy of Ronaldo.
Ronaldo was made for moments like these. Rarely shy of being at the center of attention, he strode forward confidently before coolly firing the ball into the net. The trademark ripping off of the shirt then followed as he raced towards his jubilant teammates.
For Ronaldo, a third Champions League title — and another chapter in a remarkable career.
“The penalties are always a lottery,” Ronaldo told BT Sport. “You never know what will happen but our team showed more experience and we showed it by scoring all the penalties. A fantastic night for us.”

Why

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Read more: http://www.cnn.com/2016/05/28/football/real-madrid-champions-league-atletico/index.html

‘We’d make the same decision,’ zoo director says of gorilla shooting

(CNN)Zookeepers shot and killed a rare gorilla on Sunday after a 3-year-old boy slipped into its enclosure at the Cincinnati Zoo, triggering outcry over how the situation was handled.

If they had to do it again, they would respond the same way, the zoo’s director said Monday.
Cincinnati Zoo Director Thane Maynard said he stands by the decision to kill 17-year-old silverback Harambe to save the child. The boy went under a rail, through wires and over a moat wall to get into the enclosure, according to the zoo. Footage shot by a witness shows Harambe dragging the child through the water as the clamor of the crowd grows louder.
Zookeepers shot the 450-pound gorilla with a rifle, rather than tranquilizing him. The brief encounter sparked widespread Internet outrage over the decision to shoot Harambe and whether the child’s parents were to blame for failing to look after him.
But those second-guessing the call “don’t understand silverback gorillas,” Maynard said in a news conference. And, they were not there when it was time to make the crucial decision.
“That child’s life was in danger. People who question that don’t understand you can’t take a risk with a silverback gorilla — this is a dangerous animal,” he said. “Looking back, we’d make the same decision. The child is safe.”

‘We made a difficult call’

The family was visiting the zoo on Saturday when the boy slipped away and entered the enclosure. Kimberley Ann Perkins O’Connor, who captured part of the incident on her phone, told CNN she overheard the boy joking to his mother about going into the water. Then, suddenly, there he was, being dragged by Harambe.
The unidentified boy was taken to Children’s Hospital and released Saturday evening. The family thanked the zoo in a statement through a public relations firm:
“We are so thankful to the Lord that our child is safe. He is home and doing just fine. We extend our heartfelt thanks for the quick action by the Cincinnati Zoo staff. We know that this was a very difficult decision for them, and that they are grieving the loss of their gorilla. We hope that you will respect our privacy at this time.”
Some suggested the boy’s parents should be held criminally responsible for the incident. An online petition seeking “Justice for Harambe” earned more than 100,000 signatures in less than 48 hours.
“This beautiful gorilla lost his life because the boy’s parents did not keep a closer watch on the child,” the petition states.
Cincinnati Police Lt. Stephen Saunders said he is “not aware of any intention to charge the mother” or “the parents” at this time.
Maynard refused to point fingers at the child’s family.
“We had a very difficult situation and we made a difficult call at the end. I’m not here to point fingers about fault,” he said.
“We live in the real world, we make real decisions. People and kids can climb over barriers. We work hard to make sure this zoo is safe. People can climb over barriers, that’s what happened.”
He also defended the enclosure barriers, saying the zoo has been inspected by both the USDA and the Association of Zoos and Aquariums. He compared the scenario to a locked car that burglars find their way into if they try hard enough.

Gorilla

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Moments later, Harambe was put down, a decision that left many wondering if the zoo was too quick to shoot.
Ian Redmond, chairman of The Gorilla Organization, said zookeepers had other options.
“When gorilla or other apes have things they shouldn’t have, keepers will negotiate with them, bring food, their favorite treats, pineapple or some kind of fruit that they don’t know and negotiate with them,” he told CNN.
“I don’t know if that was tried or people thought there was too much danger but it does seem very unfortunate that a lethal shot was required.”
Maynard has said that tranquilizers may not have taken effect in time to save the boy while the dart might have agitated the animal, worsening the situation. Animal expert Jeff Corwin agreed that tranquilizers may have taken too long.
“… In some situations, depending on what the medication is, it can take upward to 10 to 15 minutes,” Corwin said. “It may take multiple shots.”
Many pointed out that a human life was at stake — especially that of a child — and that’s more important than that of a gorilla.

Similar incidents, different endings

Although it was the first incident of its kind at Cincinnati Zoo’s Gorilla World exhibit since it opened in 1978, similar cases have occurred with very different outcomes.
In 1986, a 5-year-old boy named Levan Merritt tumbled into the gorilla enclosure at Jersey Zoo in the United Kingdom. Video filmed by a bystander showed Levan lying on the ground, bleeding from the head and unconscious.
The footage shows Jambo, a male gorilla, approaching the boy as if to check on him, extending a hand to stroke his back. When Merritt comes to, wailing, Jambo, seemingly startled by the cries, sets off in a different direction. Zookeepers immediately move in to save the boy.
A decade later, a 3-year-old boy fell nearly 20 feet into the gorilla enclosure at the Brookfield Zoo in Chicago.
This time, a female gorilla named Binti Jua picked up the unconscious boy, while carrying her own infant on her back, and guarded him from other gorillas.
In an incredible show of maternal care, Binti took him right to a door so that zookeepers could retrieve him.

PETA: Captivity not acceptable

Although gorillas are known to be unpredictable — not always the gentle giants the world saw in these two cases — the animal advocacy group People for the Ethical Treatment of Animals said the larger concept of zoos is the root of the problem.
The animal rights organization said on Twitter the tragic episode was the latest proof that “even under the ‘best’ circumstances … captivity is never acceptable for gorillas or other primates.”
Others pointed out that in the end, the odds were stacked against the gorilla.
Maynard said the zoo plans to reopen the exhibit to the public after a thorough assessment.
“The exhibit will be completely safe when it reopens.”

Read more: http://www.cnn.com/2016/05/30/us/gorilla-shot-harambe/index.html

Trophy Corporate Jets Were All the Rage, Until They Weren’t

The private jet Janine Iannarelli is selling for a Russian client has leather seats, wood paneling, a satellite phone and can fly nonstop from Tokyo to Los Angeles. The price has dropped $3 million since September and is still falling.

Iannarelli today is hawking the 10-year-old Bombardier Global 5000 for $14.5 million but recommends that her client cut the price further as the market for large-cabin business jets keeps weakening. A new Global 5000 lists for $50.4 million.

Theres absolutely no evidence of a recovery on the horizon, says Iannarelli, founder of Houston-based aircraft brokerage Par Avion Ltd. None of the jet models has hit bottom.

Rarely seen bargains abound for big corporate aircraft as tumbling oil wealth, a stronger dollar and a downturn for emerging-market giants from Brazil to Russia cripple demand. As owners from foreign tycoons to Archer-Daniel-Midlands Co. try to sell their planes, Bombardier Inc., General Dynamics Corp.s Gulfstream unit and other planemakers are cutting output and chopping list prices to cope with a glut of new and used business jets.

Former Prize

The slump extends even to the Gulfstream G650 — just two years ago an aircraft so coveted by well-heeled buyers that some would pay $10 million above list for a used jet rather than wait four years for a new model. Now there are 19 G650s for sale, about 11 percent of the global fleet in operation. One 2013 plane that first was posted for sale in June at $68 million has had its asking price cut twice, to $58.8 million.

Its probably one of the best times Ive seen in my career to get the values for a big-cabin jet, says Brian Foley, a business-aircraft consultant who spent 20 years as director of marketing for the North American jet unit of Frances Dassault Aviation SA.

That marks a turnabout from the 2008-09 recession, when large planes — some spacious enough to let almost 20 people roam around — weathered the storm better than smaller jets, which cram as few as five passengers in too tight a space to stand up. Sales of bigger aircraft jumped with the economic surge of Brazil, Russia and other developing countries, plus a jump in oil prices and a commodities boom that fed Chinas surging exports.

Fortunes Reverse

Now, with many emerging markets faltering, oil companies trimming costs and commodities prices trending down, the tables have turned. Prices of used, large-cabin business jets fell 16 percent last year, according to AircraftPost Inc., which compiles data on the industry. Business-jet sales tumbled 16 percent to $3.53 billion in the first quarter, the biggest drop in almost five years, according to the General Aviation Manufacturers Association. Large-cabin jets led the decline.

Have prices come down? Yes. Have they come down quicker than usual? Id say yes, says Steve Varsano, an aircraft broker in London who is helping to sell three preowned G650s. But the activity level is still there.

Gulfstream, which is based in Savannah, Georgia, has reduced production and prices of its G450 and G550 models but doesnt intend to cut prices for new G650s, said Phebe Novakovic, chief executive officer of parent company General Dynamics. The jet remains a hot plane, with about a two-year wait for a new one, she said on a conference call last month.

High Roller

Wynn Aircraft II LLC wants to unload an extended range G650ER that sells for more than $70 million new. A spokesman for Wynn Resorts Ltd., the casino company run by Steve Wynn, declined to comment on the sale.

ADM is selling a 2010 Dassault Falcon 7X for $25.5 million in an effort to reduce executive travel expenses. Commercial airlines offer options for long-range, nonstop flights which can provide significant savings on our overall costs, says Steve Schrier, a spokesman for the worlds largest corn processor.

General Electric Co. is selling a 2003 Gulfstream G550, part of an effort to shed assets of its finance unit as the company focuses on industrial operations.

The price on a 2008 Gulfstream G550 registered to Gulf States Toyota Inc., a Houston-based car dealership, has dropped $750,000 to $24.95 million in about six months, according to plane broker Mesinger Jet Sales.

The average value of a used jet currently falls about 8 percent to 10 percent a year, compared with a 3 percent to 4 percent drop before the market slumped, says Jay Mesinger, who is based in Boulder, Colorado. The steeper decline may last for years, he says. This is going to take a while to correct itself.

Prices have dropped most sharply for older models, says Neil Book, chief executive of JSSI, which manages 1,800 corporate, commercial and private jets. A Gulfstream GV — one of the largest, longest-range corporate jets — fetches about $10 million now, down from $18 million two years ago, he says.

Bombardier Aggression

Bombardier has been the biggest culprit for the drag on prices, analysts and consultants say. The Montreal-based company overproduced business jets last year and has been discounting heavily to raise cash as its grapples with a C Series commercial-jet program thats over budget and behind schedule, according to Varsano and Rolland Vincent, an aerospace consultant in Plano, Texas.

There are some shark-infested waters in that large-cabin space around the $30 million to $40 million list price, says Vincent, a former executive at Bombardier and the Cessna business-jet arm of Providence, Rhode Island-based Textron Inc. Its very aggressive right now, and Bombardier has been leading the aggression.

Bombardier jet prices have been helped by the companys decision to cut output of large-cabin planes last year, says spokeswoman Anna Cristofaro. She declined to comment on production rates. Vincent estimates the company will produce about 50 Global jets, down from 80 last year.

Eating Their Young

With the large price gap between new planes and late-model preowned jets, it makes less sense for buyers to purchase aircraft straight from the factory, says Iannarelli, the broker trying to sell a Russian clients Bombardier Global 5000. That may put pressure on original-equipment manufacturers to discount further.

The OEMs are eating their young, she says. People are waiting on the sidelines wondering when the next price cut is coming.

Read more: http://www.bloomberg.com/news/articles/2016-05-23/ceo-class-private-jets-go-begging-for-buyers-crushing-prices