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 Posted: Sat 1:29, 28 Sep 2013 Post subject: interior minister and Assef Shawkat |
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employment finally reached its 1929 levels again, in 1940 (or so; there’s some conflicting data), you would have barely been able to see the other recessions at all. To make the comparison with the current recession a little clearer,[url=http://www.xirland.com]christian louboutin sale[/url], I charted the first 14 months of Depression job losses against the 14 months of job losses we’ve had so far in this recession:Again, really no comparison at all. I was a little worried that this might be because the 1930s numbers were not in fact comparable with today’s. An e-mail from Susan B. Carter of UC Riverside, an expert on historical labor market data, reassured me on that front. “In my view, this series is comparable to those you have displayed for later periods and certainly the best you can get,” she wrote.It is true that a larger share of the workforce was still on the farm in the 1930s, so nonfarm employment wasn’t quite the all-important indicator then that it is now. Still, it’s clear that the employment downturn we’ve been dealing with, while probably the worst since the Great Depression, is much, much closer in severity to the recessions of the mid 1970s and early 1980s than to the utter disaster of the 1930s. That’s no guarantee that it won’t get worse, of course. But it is useful to know.Thanks to TIME.com graphics czar Feilding Cage for making the charts look nice. Since he’s back, I also got him to redo my most recent chart comparing job losses in the past six recessions (my version was pretty ugly):Update: I should note that the 1930s numbers aren’t seasonally adjusted,http://www.xirland.com, while the modern ones are. I just didn’t even think of that when I was putting them together. Sorry. It doesn’t affect the basic point of the charts, but it does explain why the 1930s numbers are so much herkier and jerkier than the modern ones.On Triumphant Day for Syrian Rebels, Tragedy in One Small TownAbdel-ilah, the painter,[url=http://www.xirland.com]christian louboutin outlet[/url], was hysterical. He fell to his knees in front of a small base of rebel fighters, and unfurled the small blood-covered white blanket with pale blue stripes he was carrying. “People, people, dear God, somebody, anybody look what they have done! Look! dear God, oh my God!” The fighters, most carrying their rifles, ran out of their makeshift base, as others quickly gathered at the site.(MORE: Syrian rebels celebrate assassination of Assad lieutenants.)Inside the bundle was a young girl, Suheila. She was a toddler, barefoot, with patches of blood on her pudgy legs, still dressed in a blue t-shirt and white shorts. She didn’t have facial features because she no longer had a face. Her head was smashed, a blob of flesh and blood.Just minutes earlier, at around 11pm, a rocket landed on her family home,[url=http://www.xirland.com]christian louboutin men[/url], killing the young toddler, her brother and her mother as well as her two aunts and another woman from the family. “She’s not the only one!” Abdel-Ilah screamed. “Allahu Akbar!” He had picked up the child from her home. The young fighters urged him to wrap up the little girl and head to the town’s hospital.“Shabab, be careful, don’t all gather in the same place!” somebody said, referring to the rebel fighters milling around. Abdel-Ilah jumped on the back of a motorcycle and sped away with the dead toddler. The two dozen or so fighters sat on the sidewalk. Most looked dejected. None of them spoke.It was a stark, sharp contrast to the buoyant mood just hours earlier when many of the same young men proudly paraded around town, firing their precious ammunition in the air in an impromptu celebration of an audacious rebel attack in the capital Damascus that left the defense minister, interior minister and Assef Shawkat, a powerful regime insider and President Bashar Assad’s brother in law dead.(MORE: What the Assad regime lost in the devastating Damascus blast.)The little girl was taken to the town’s Hassan Hospital. It was pandemonium inside. Pools of blood congealed on the tiled floor. The toddler’s mother, Sakina, lay dead on a stretcher, her deep red clothes soaked in bright red
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