--Love is a Mix Tape: Life and Loss, One Song at a Time by Rob Sheffield, p. 97
Michael Vick is an athlete who was convicted in 2007 of interstate dog fighting. Under his supervision, innumerable innocent dogs suffered horrifically cruel, inhumane, and sadistic treatment. As my friend la_palomita says: There's a reason why cruelty to animals is a diagnostic red flag for clinicians. Cruelty at this level is rarely isolated to animals. Sociopaths often start out torturing animals before moving on to victimizing human beings.
Additionally, here are ways to help stop dog fighting.
Once you've signed the petition and looked at ways to help, click here for happy stories from the shelter where I volunteer.
Immigrant women are particularly vulnerable because they often must rely on the legal residence status of their abusers. The Battered Immigrant Women Protection Act helps immigrant victims of domestic violence take control of their lives without fear of deportation."
Today is the anniversary of when Anna Rosenberg became the first woman to receive the Medal of Freedom, which is the highest civilian award offered by the United States. More info here.
Also, this is still true:
Man Speaking to a Woman
You have come to me from a tall awkward city. You have come to me from the sister cities of the north. On your way here to me you have run in and out of a thousand cities that lie like unhatched eggs on the prairies.
You are a distraught woman with tangled hair and once you owned a house in a street where wagons and motor trucks went up and down.
I am glad you are tangled in a web of thought.
I am glad your thoughts have driven you out of the cities.
You have come up a hill to a place where I sit.
I am glad.
I will take the end of a thought in my hand and walk back and forth.
I will climb into trees.
I will run in holes under the ground.
I will weave a web over yourself.
You shall sit on a stone under a wall where a gateway leads into the valley of truth and as I weave you into oblivion I will tell you a tale.
Long ago, on a day in October, a woman like you came here to the face of the wall. The shadow of many perplexities lay like a film over her eyes. She sat on the stone with her back to the wall as you sit now. My father, who was then a young man, laid long threads of thought over her body.
A stone fell out of the wall and the woman was killed.
The wall is strong but a stone fell out of the wall.
It made a great noise.
A noise like the firing of guns was heard to the North and the South.
In the Valley there was a day set aside for the cleansing of doorsteps.
The sound of the tinkling of bells came over the wall.
A stone fell out of the wall on the head of a woman.
She fled from my father.
She fled like a frightened bird over the wall.
I am become a brightly colored insect.
I am a boy lying by a river on a summer day.
At my back is an orchard.
I look dreamily out over warm stagnant waters. There is a reed grows out of the yellow mud. In the orchard at my back a hog grunts. An insect with brightly colored back and wings comes swinging down stream. He has lived more freely than the waters of the river. I go with him as I would go in at the door of God's house if I knew the street in which God's house stands, as I would go into you if you would leave the door open for me.
Rosner, Elizabeth. 2001. The Speed of Light. New York, New York: The Ballantine Publishing Group. p. 143.