BS rules the world

  Smokers against Monsanto In the green corners of Portugal, a curious scene unfolds: a group of determined demonstrators, signs in hand, rallying against the agricultural giant Monsanto and its GMO cronies. The air is thick with passion… and a hint of tobacco. Yes, amidst the cries for pure, unadulterated food, a plume of irony rises from the crowd—smokers protesting against pesticides. Now, let’s light up the facts:  The tobacco industry is practically BFFs with herbicides and pesticides, and guess who’s on their speed dial? Good ol’ Monsanto. Those tobacco leaves aren’t just sun-kissed; they’re genetically jazzed up to hook you faster than you can say “nicotine.” And let’s not forget the environmental smoke screen—every 300 cigarettes send a tree to the big lumberyard in the sky. Talk about a leafy sacrifice. But the real cherry on this paradoxical cake? Point out this smoky contradiction, and you’ll witness a spectacular display of mental gymnastics. From fiery retorts to ...

  I don’t believe in Conspiracy Theories. Yep, I’m a sucker :-| Welcome to the modern-day Colosseum, where gladiators don’t wield swords; they arm themselves with conspiracy theories. It’s a world where “I don’t believe in conspiracy theories, but…” is the new “Once upon a time…” and every tale is more twisted than a pretzel at a yoga class. Let’s set the stage: You’re at a casual get-together, and someone drops the bomb—“Why do you take the flu shot? It’s a scam by Big Pharma!” Suddenly, you’re the naive one because you believe in science, not sci-fi. And don’t even get me started on waste separation—apparently, it’s all a ruse, and landfills are the new black holes where all matter converges. Milk pasteurization? A cash cow for the dairy industry. Fluoride in water? A mind-control plot. Chemtrails? The sky’s graffiti, courtesy of the government. And if you dare to question these “truths,” prepare to be looked upon as if you just confessed to believing in the Tooth Fairy. Here’s t...

Romanticizing the past may be frowned upon by some, suggesting there's a special place in hell for such individuals. Could this inclination be attributed to the second law of Thermodynamics? It's an intriguing thought. Romanticize (verb) “Deal with or describe in an idealized or unrealistic fashion; make (something) seem better or more appealing than it really is,” (Oxford Dictionary) Ah, the past—a time when the grass was greener, the air was cleaner, and the people were… well, let’s just say they had their moments. There’s a peculiar trend I’ve noticed at social gatherings, where amidst the clinking of glasses and the passing of hors d’oeuvres, someone inevitably sighs and says, “Remember the good old days?” And thus begins the romanticization of the past, a sport more competitive than Olympic gymnastics. Now, I’m not one to rain on anyone’s parade (mostly because parades in the past involved a lot more pitchforks and torches), but let’s take a moment to unpack this suitcase ...

  Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the grand theater of life, where the blame is passed around like a hot potato at a kids’ party. Today’s performance: “The Problem of Evil” —a classic hit that’s been on the charts since, well, forever. In one corner, we have the traditionalists, who’ve got it all figured out. Earthquake? Plague? Stubbed your toe? Don’t fret; it’s all Satan’s handiwork. Ah, the convenience of having an omnipotent scapegoat for life’s miseries! But wait, there’s a modern twist! Replace “Satan” with “capitalism,” and voila, you’ve got a narrative that resonates with the coffee-shop revolutionaries. “Why did the cat cross the road? Because capitalism pushed it!” It’s a one-size-fits-all excuse for everything from political blunders to why your latte wasn’t fair trade. And let’s not forget the global favorites: “the West,” “neo-liberalism,” and “patriarchy.” They’re the Swiss Army knives of blame—versatile, handy, and always ready to explain away any mishap. In this wo...

In the bustling global village of Porto, there’s a movement that’s stirring up more drama than a telenovela at prime time. It’s the anti-gentrification squad, marching with banners waving high. Now, don’t get me wrong, I’m all for a good cause, but this one smells like a cocktail of xenophobia, utopian daydreams, a dash of hypocrisy, and a sprinkle of paternalism. I’ll circle back to this hot potato in a future post, but for now, let’s chat about why I’m not boarding the “anti” train. Flashback to two years before my grand entrance into the world (that’s May 1964 for the history buffs), Robert Kennedy stood at the University of Pennsylvania and dropped a truth bomb: “About one-fifth of the people are against everything all of the time.” Fast forward to today’s Facebook frenzy, and it seems that percentage has skyrocketed. We’ve got more “anti” groups than cat videos on the internet, and that’s saying something. The pseudo-progressive crowd loves to wear their “anti” badges with pride. ...