Horses: A 4,000-Year Genetic Journey Across the World

David Chaffetz at the Asian Review of Books:

Some myths take longer to die than others. For students of equine history, the passion that these animals inspire in their owners and breeders often act as a veil, impenetrable for scientists and historians trying to get to the facts. In Horses, Ludovic Orlando, who has been gathering the facts jaw bone by jaw bone for two decades, deploying the latest technology, appears to have pierced the veil, finally, though with many a surprising turn to keep the readers on edge, as though enjoying a detective novel.

Many of the stories told here have appeared in scientific magazines since the publication of “The origins and spread of domestic horses from the Western Eurasian steppes” in Nature magazine, in 2021. Orlando enlivens these stories, however, by describing his travels to and from England, to the steppes of Kazakhstan and on to the Siberian tundra, where he has his fruitful encounters with colleagues, including William Taylor, Pablo Librado, Alan Outram and Pavel Kuznetzov.

More here.

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Friedrich Engels Predicted Modern Gentrification 150 Years Ago

P.E. Moskowitz at Literary Hub:

In Urban Fortunes, their foundational work on the economies of cities, urban theorists John Logan and Harvey Molotch argue that the people running American cities no longer care about affordability, a city’s ability to educate children, or the happiness and health of its residents; rather, they are only interested the amount of money a city is able to generate. This focus is not the result of a philosophical bug that’s somehow spread to the brains of city managers everywhere. People such as Richard Florida make the city-as-business philosophy seem appealing, but there’s something bigger going on. Logan and Molotch argue that the city-as-growth-machine is an inherent feature of late capitalism in the United States. Cities, more than being places for people to live, have become ways to produce, manage, attract, and extract capital.

Under capitalism, there’s an inherent tension between what Marxist academics call “use value” and “exchange value.”

More here.

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Arvo Pärt: The Holy Minimalist Who Defied The Soviets

Ian Thomson at The New Statesman:

Arvo Pärt, the pre-eminent religious composer of our time, was born in 1935 in Estonia, before its Soviet occupation. His music suggests the contemplative devotion and purity of Gregorian plainchant and Renaissance church chorale, though it could only have been written today, being at once archaic and abstract-modern. With its sense of stasis and light, the music reflects the immensity of the Baltic landscape and Estonia’s own forested plains. Under communism, Pärt fell foul of the Soviet censors as his music defied official atheism. His work is shaped by his Eastern Orthodox faith; it is a form of prayer.

Pärt, who turned 90 on 11 September, has retired from public life and ceased to compose. He can still occasionally be glimpsed at the Arvo Pärt Centre, a beautiful glass-encased building that opened in 2018 on the edge of a pine forest close to Tallinn, Estonia’s capital.

more here.

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From Soundwaves to Brainwaves: The Transformative Power of Music

Iris Kulbatski in The Scientist:

Life begins with music. The human body provides the basic musical elements for the soundtrack to fetal development. The rhythmic pulsing of mom’s heartbeat, the rise and fall of her footsteps, the steady rush of her breathing and circulation, the pitch and melody of her voice, and the rumbling staccatos of her digestion all prime the developing fetus to recognize and respond to music postnatally.1,2 Womb sounds shape brain development, form the basis of future language and communication, and program musical dialects into the fleshy enclaves of the body.

More here.

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In the loop: odd rings of DNA in tumors

Elie Dolgin in Science:

Mischel’s first curious observation had to do with how quickly glioblastomas adapted to treatment. Within a week or two, tumors that had once bristled with extra copies of the receptor gene, EGFR, shed most of them. That kind of genomic shift should have unfolded gradually, over successive rounds of cell division. Instead, it happened with unsettling speed. Stranger still, cells that had seemingly rid themselves of EGFR retained the uncanny ability to bring it roaring back, spawning new tumors with high gene expression as soon as the drug pressure lifted. It was like watching a doused fire suddenly reignite from cold ash.

“The tumors were changing their genomes way too quickly,” says Mischel, a neuropathologist and cancer biologist now at Stanford Medicine. “It was a colossal scratching of heads.” The mystery deepened when David Nathanson, a trainee in Mischel’s lab, began to examine glioblastoma cells under the microscope. He stained chromosomes blue; EGFR was tagged in red. He expected the red signals—the extra copies of EGFR—to align neatly along the blue chromosomes. What appeared instead was chaos: scattered red dots drifting across the nucleus, unmoored from any chromosomal structure. “It was really crazy to see,” says Nathanson, now a brain cancer biologist at the University of California (UC), Los Angeles.

More here.

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Sunday, September 14, 2025

The Smoker

Ottessa Moshfegh in The Paris Review:

This one time, my dad bought me a house in Providence, Rhode Island. It was a two-story fake Colonial with yellow aluminum siding on Hawkins Street. We bought it from the bank for $55,000; it was one of many properties under foreclosure in the city in 2009. Dad and I had spent a few days driving around and looking at these houses. In one driveway, I found a dirty playing card depicting the biggest penis I could ever imagine—I still have it. In one basement, the realtor had to disclose, the former owner had tied his girlfriend’s lover to a chair, tortured him, and then shot him in the head.

More here.

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Trump Is Shutting Down the War On Cancer

Jonathan Mahler in The New York Times:

When America declared war on cancer more than 50 years ago, there was a misguided assumption outside the scientific community that it would be only a matter of years before the disease was eradicated — that defeating cancer would be no different than building an atomic bomb or putting a man on the moon. But there would be no miracle cure: As of this writing, some 40 percent of Americans will be diagnosed with cancer at some point in their life.

What there would be, however, was decades of minor breakthroughs that would accrue over time, transforming both our understanding of the disease and our ability to treat it. One way to measure the cumulative effect of those breakthroughs is with statistics: In the mid-1970s, America’s five-year cancer-survival rate sat at 49 percent; today, it is 68 percent. You can also correlate America’s sustained investment in cancer research directly with these returns: According to a recent study in The Journal of Clinical Oncology, every $326 that our government spends researching cancer extends a human life by one year. Now an extraordinarily successful scientific research system — one that took decades to build, has saved millions of lives and generated billions of dollars in profits for American companies and investors — is being dismantled before our eyes.

More here.

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Sunday Poem

White Corn Boy*

I am the White Corn Boy.
I walk in sight of my home.
I walk in plain sight of my home.
I walk in the straight path which is towards my home.
I walk to the entrance of my home.
I arrive at the beautiful goods curtain which hangs at the doorway.
I arrive at the entrance of my home.
I am in the middle of my home.
I am at the back of my home.
I am on top of the pollen footprint.
I am on top of the pollen seed print.
I am like the Most High Power Whose Ways Are Beautiful.
Before me it is beautiful,
Behind me it is beautiful,
Under me it is beautiful,
Above me it is beautiful,
All around me it is beautiful,

* From Aileen O’Brian, The Diné:
Origin Myths of the Navaho Indians.

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Friday, September 12, 2025

Mark Blyth on Writing, Thinking, and Why AI Can’t Save You

Catherine E. De Vries at Etched in Marble:

Mark Blyth

Mark Blyth is not the kind of academic who waits to be summoned. His sharp insights, delivered in a no-nonsense Scottish accent, are difficult to ignore. He writes to provoke, to clarify, and, perhaps above all, to care. A professor of International Political Economy at Brown University, Blyth has built a career dismantling bad economic ideas.

In Austerity: The History of a Dangerous IdeaAngrynomics, and most recently Inflation: A Guide for Users and Losers (with Nicolò Fraccaroli), he has taken apart technocratic orthodoxies and asked the more difficult questions, about power, inequality, and the terms by which society is organized.

In my conversation with Blyth for Etched in Marble, his writing reveals itself not merely as a craft, but as a mode of resistance, a way of thinking aloud and, more crucially, against the grain. For Blyth, the page isn’t a place to polish conclusions, it’s where the real argument begins.

More here.

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Scott Alexander reviews “If Anyone Builds It, Everyone Dies”

Scott Alexander at Astral Codex Ten:

Most people in AI safety (including me) are uncertain and confused and looking for least-bad incremental solutions. We think AI will probably be an exciting and transformative technology, but there’s some chance, 5 or 15 or 30 percent, that it might turn against humanity in a catastrophic way. Or, if it doesn’t, that there will be something less catastrophic but still bad – maybe humanity gradually fading into the background, the same way kings and nobles faded into the background during the modern era. This is scary, but AI is coming whether we like it or not, and probably there are also potential risks from delaying too hard. We’re not sure exactly what to do, but for now we want to build a firm foundation for reacting to any future threat. That means keeping AI companies honest and transparent, helping responsible companies like Anthropic stay in the race, and investing in understanding AI goal structures and the ways that AIs interpret our commands. Then at some point in the future, we’ll be close enough to the actually-scary AI that we can understand the threat model more clearly, get more popular buy-in, and decide what to do next.

MIRI thinks this is pathetic – like trying to protect against an asteroid impact by wearing a hard hat.

More here.

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America, where everything gets dialed up to 11

Corey Robin at his own website:

We can’t just have a country where people, being people, get mad and rowdy every once in a while and shout at or beat each other up. No, we have to live a country where people are constantly murdering other people.

We can’t have a country where a few hunters in the countryside own rifles to hunt deer. No, we must allow every manchild, as a matter of constitutional right, to shlep or shoulder an Uzi onto or into every public space and square.

We can’t have leaders and spokespersons who quietly and consistently denounce all violence. No, we have to mount elaborate martyrologies that turn every grifter into a saint, every thug into a prince, every huckster into an intellectual.

More here.

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What Are Drugs For?

Emmeline Clein at The Nation:

A woman gnaws at her nails: one hand in her mouth, the other clutching the shaft of a mop, which serves as one bar of a prison cell composed of cleaning products. It’s an apt metaphor. In mid-century America, housewives were expected to polish their own gilded cages without considering how their feelings of entrapment might be related to their imprisonment in suburban homes. But by the late 1960s, even advertisers recognized that women might find such lives a little upsetting after reading The Feminine Mystique.

The aforementioned woman is a model in a 1967 ad for a tranquilizer called Miltown. The ad acknowledged that the drug “cannot change her environment…but it can help relieve the anxiety” caused by her conditions. Ten years prior, Miltown had swept the market, selling over a billion units in the decade after Wallace Laboratories debuted it. In ads for Miltown, pharmaceutical copy suggested an incompatibility between liberatory social movements and surviving the suburbs might be to blame for a woman’s anxious distress. Nonetheless, they had a solution: A pill would go down more smoothly than a revolution.

P.E. Moskowitz deftly deconstructs this ad in a scathing examination of today’s psychopharmaceutical industrial complex in their third and newest book, Breaking Awake: A Reporter’s Search for a New Life, and a New World, Through Drugs.

more here.

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The Sally Mann Way

Alexandra Jacobs at the New York Times:

“We are all Sally Mann now,” one might think, gazing at the social-media streams that expose so many children. And yet none of us are Sally Mann.

She is the art photographer both renowned and scolded for her “Family Pictures” series, which started in the mid-1980s, showing (sometimes naked) offspring of feral intensity and lasting for a decade as they grew. Her 2015 memoir, “Hold Still,” was more spellbinding than most by full-time writers.

“Art Work,” which promises guidance on the creative life, is pretty much a caboose to that bigger book. The guidance part is a little Julia Cameron, if Julia Cameron still enjoyed a nightly gin and tonic, with a dash of women’s magazine. “How I got it done” is an opening line, echoing a popular feature in The Cut. Truisms are scattered here like weeds. “It is about how you live your life, because the life you lead is your art and the art you make is your life,” is one. There’s a chapter on killing your darlings, and many sentences that boil down to the old joke: “How do you get to Carnegie Hall? Practice, practice, practice.” The rest, thankfully, is a garden of Mann: profane, literary, adventuresome.

more here.

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The Front Page: What do we make of our fear of porn?

Lillian Fishman in The Point:

I’m sure it’s my interest in knowing what’s normal as much as my interest in porn that led me, a few months ago, to pick up a copy of Porn, by Polly Barton. Subtitled “an oral history” and put out by the highbrow independent press Fitzcarraldo Editions, Porn is billed on the back cover as a “thrilling, thought-provoking, revelatory, revealing, joyfully informative and informal exploration of a subject that has always retained an element of the taboo.” It’s organized as a series of “chats” between the author and nineteen acquaintances, varied across age and gender and anonymized so that each subject is referred to with a number from one to nineteen. Barton is a translator who found herself surprised by the realization that she wanted to write about the ever-present but largely unspoken subject of porn, so much so that the idea kept her up at night. This preoccupation felt “deeply embarrassing” to her: “If only I was a porn connoisseur,” she writes regretfully. Her “predominant feeling towards porn,” she continues in the introduction,

More here.

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