Ransone portrayed the dock worker turned petty criminal Chester Ziggy Sobotka in season two of David Simon's critically acclaimed Baltimore crime drama The Wire. He later acted alongside Alexander Skarsgard in Generation Kill, also helmed by Simon. In Generation Kill, Ransone played real-life marine Cpl Josh Ray Person across all seven episodes of the HBO show. Ransone more recently appeared in It Chapter Two as the fictional character Eddie Kaspbrak.
Whatever mixture of genetics, temperament, trauma, and environment leads someone to use cannabis daily, such frequency almost inevitably results in addiction, that seemingly mysterious bending of the will and reward toward continued cannabis use despite adverse consequences. For example, money might be rewarding as a means to buy more cannabis, but no longer be very rewarding in and of itself. Or being high might become more desired than good grades or excelling at sports. The mind bends toward getting high as its preferred state.
The second one questions how much money he made from the aforementioned gig: "I made 10k the other night at that show. My cut was not that much over a thousand $. Split between me and 3 other band members, does that make any sense mathematically? Anyways, Thank you for all your support everybody. NOAH WEILAND - OUT." The third message is the most concerning, with Noah writing, "I'd rather be dead... then [sic] live the same way my father did. Regardless of all this, it's been a long journey. Can't wait to see him again, and thank you for all the support along the way. Won't ever forget this."
When arriving paramedics ask Eitan for his details, he declines to give his real name, instead giving them the name of his work supervisor and nemesis, Douglas Moran. Eitan is a hard-partying consultant rheumatologist who has just returned to work after several months off following a mental health crisis, and who uses liquid cocaine secreted into a nasal inhaler to get through the working day.
In childhood, he felt like he did not belong to the small cultish church of his family, a fact and internal pain he minimized. The spirit of the church did not fit, and he felt a pull to what became the shadows of sex. Pornography, prostitutes, and internet obsession drew him increasingly into a secret life. He felt an outsider, and the not belonging represented an unanswered need for security.
Flophouse America is the unnervingly intimate feature debut of Monica Strømdahl, an internationally award-winning photographer who spent 15 years documenting the impoverished communities that have sprung up in rundown motels throughout the US. Which is how she met Mikal, an energetic, 11-year old boy who's called home the hotel room he's shared with his parents since the day he was born.
Gascoigne's new book is called Eight, not just for the number he wore during his playing career, but also because he addresses the emotions he experienced during his life. It's about my eight demons, everything I've had to face up to, he told FourFourTwo. I've conquered most of them. The rest are hard to conquer, but I just try to deal with them the best I can.
The brother of a girl who died when she fell off a cruise ship "viciously" attacked one of his surviving sisters, pulling out her hair extensions and biting her nose.
It was just enough time to break the spell of "sweet revenge" - a psychological phenomenon that, Kimmel argued, works very much like any other drug. When people are harboring a grievance, no matter its validity, Kimmel said, "It's a very real pain. And your brain really, really doesn't want pain - and so it instantly scrambles to rebalance that pain with pleasure."
Why are bad habits so hard to break? Neuroscientist Carl Hart, PhD, journalist Charles Duhigg, and psychologist Adam Alter, PhD explain how your brain wires habits as cue-routine-reward loops that control nearly half of your daily life. They show why willpower alone rarely works, why technology fuels new forms of addiction, and why habits can only be replaced, not erased.
Plagiarizing is looked at by many writers as the ultimate taboo, a complete and total incineration of the public trust between those who pen and those who consume what's penned. But what if those writings are written in the author's own style, but using a little help from a robot friend? Are we plagiarizing ourselves when artificial intelligence rears its confounding head to help us find our authentic voice?
Looking ahead for myself, all I could see were broken shards, glomming and splintering, far from the awed and vibrant colors and geometric shapes that reform with the twist of the kaleidoscope in transition. I was early in my career as a counselor. More by dumb luck than prescient insight, somewhere deep within me I knew that I was vulnerable and at risk to make really bad choices. I was hurting and needed to feel better.
Between teaching MBA students and speaking to a lot of business audiences, I'm often interacting with successful people who work extremely long hours. It's common for me to hear about 13-hour workdays and seven-day workweeks, with few or no vacations. What I see among many of those I encounter is workaholism, a pathology characterized by continuing to work during discretionary time, thinking about work all the time, and pursuing job tasks well beyond what's required to meet any need.
I met Donny 18 months ago. For a while, we were both happy. Then suddenly, every Friday, Donny would make some excuse, smoke a cigarette and go to the bar across the street. Afterward, he would show up here drunk, and we would argue. When Donny was sober, he was a great guy, but every weekend he disappeared. Although I tried every day to help him, the drinking evolved into drugs. A few months ago, he came over to visit.
The prescription testosterone market in the United States is substantial and growing, with more than 5 million prescriptions written annually and an estimated $1 billion in sales. More striking still is the booming self- medication with testosterone supplements. Testosterone "boosters"-often herbal or vitamin‑based products-represent a $3.7 billion global market projected to nearly double by 2030.This means there are 3 million users in the United States, and epidemiologic studies suggest up to 30 percent of long-term AAS users may develop addiction,
"I believe that social media has played a direct role in every single assassination and assassination attempt we've seen over the last five, six years. There is no question in my mind," Cox told NBC News' 'Meet the Press' on Sunday. "Cancer probably isn't a strong enough word. What we have done to our kids. It has taken us a decade to understand how evil these algorithms really are."