Between the companies pushing junk food and the bacteria threatening our produce, eating right feels basically impossible
While war and conflict seem to be raging across the planet, the greatest weapon of mass destruction afflicting the United States today is, apparently, a salad – in the sense that fresh produce is now waging battle with our stomachs thanks to the cyclospora parasite. Cyclospora has infested an unknown amount of our food, causing thousands to suffer bowel movements that would make Pompeii look like a gender-reveal party.
This is a tragedy for everyone except the fat cats at Big Toilet. Cyclospora may be spread through human feces getting into irrigation systems in the food supply due to poor worker hygiene. It can’t be killed through usual agricultural sanitation processes. The best we can do is throw all that cilantro away and start from scratch. The FDA is scrambling to find the source of the contamination as soon as possible, going as far as to finger the supplier Taylor Farms with a false positive test that they had to sloppily retract as fast as they declared it. I, for one, am trembling, and not because I’m seconds away from expelling parasitic eggs. I’m terrified because now I don’t know what to eat.
Dave Schilling is a Los Angeles-based writer and humorist
Continue reading...I was uncertain about expressing my queerness, until I saw the way Zendaya and Hunter Schafer’s characters opened up to each other in HBO’s drama
I don’t remember the exact moment when I started catching feelings for my friend Ellen. It might have been when she trusted me to cut her hair into a feathered bob, or when I noticed she’d taken to keeping my favourite tea at her parents’ house. But in the summer of 2019, a month before our final year of school together, I realised I was falling in love.
We were 17 at the time and had been best friends since our first year of high school, both of us part of the same tight-knit group of girls. Ellen and I knew each other well and were quick to make each other laugh, but we were also very different. Whereas Ellen is reserved and gentle, I’m loud and loquacious. So my sudden attraction to her was confusing – especially since neither of us was openly queer.
Continue reading...Trump administration has clashed with Vatican on social issues but Burnham’s faith is shaped by different principles
With the appointment of Britain’s first lifelong Roman Catholic prime minister, the faith is now in a prominent political position on both sides of the Atlantic.
But while Donald Trump’s administration, in particular the vice-president, JD Vance – a Catholic convert – has placed Catholicism at the heart of its culture wars and repeatedly clashed with the Vatican over the US’s hardline stance on social issues, Andy Burnham has been shaped by a British Catholic tradition with a different set of political priorities.
Continue reading...The Women’s Africa Cup of Nations starts in Morocco on Sunday, with Cape Verde and Egypt looking to continue feelgood factor from the men’s World Cup and Nigeria going for an 11th title
The men’s World Cup may have finished but do not worry, the Women’s Africa Cup of Nations (Wafcon) is ready to pick up where Spain and Argentina left off. The 34-match event will take place between 26 July and 16 August, which sandwiches it between football’s global showpiece and the start of the league season in Europe. Here’s your guide to one of the most underrated but interesting events on the sporting calendar.
Continue reading...Jewellery made from BC Iran worn at Odyssey photocall throws spotlight on the trade of rare archeological finds
The Odyssey has stormed cinemas, but while its take on the Homeric epic has created ripples among western classicists, it is an actor’s earrings that have made waves further afield.
Zendaya, who portrays the goddess Athena in the movie, provoked outrage when she appeared at a London photocall wearing earrings that were allegedly made from Iranian artefacts dating back to the 1st millennium BC.
Continue reading...In an exclusive extract from his memoir, Kiyoshi Tanimoto describes the terrifying trip across the city to locate his wife and child
• ‘I didn’t want to be a victim of the bomb’: read an interview with Tanimoto’s daughter Koko Kondo
Most of the people of Hiroshima had neither seen nor heard any plane. They heard no sound of explosion. They had seen only a strange flash in open daylight, or merely felt the reflection of the flash. However, there had been a tremendous explosion.
The parents of Mr Konda, one of our church members, had been waiting for a train at Yokogawa station, located 2km [one and a quarter miles] away from the centre of the bomb’s explosion. They saw a B-29 and a parachute dropping through the air. Before they had time to wonder at the sight, they fell unconscious. Afterward, they could not remember sensing any sound or light. When they regained consciousness, they found themselves lying on the ground, burned and without any clothing. The houses all around had been crushed to the ground. After getting to their feet, they ran toward the suburbs. Other people rushing along the Koi highway had the same experience.
Continue reading...On that fateful day in 1945, Kondo was just a baby in her mother’s arms. She talks about her father’s newly discovered eye-witness account of the aftermath – and why she decided to continue his work as a peace campaigner
• ‘Everywhere there were pitifully injured people’: read an extract from Kiyoshi Tanimoto’s memoir
Koko Kondo holds up a tiny salmon-pink dress. “This is what I was wearing,” she says. The dress, with its white-ribboned collar, is in perfect condition. A miracle. On 6 August 1945, Koko was eight months old and crawling on a tatami mat at the family parsonage. Mrs Takaki, a member of the church, had just popped round to have a chat with Chisa, Koko’s mother. Chisa gathered Koko up in her arms so she wouldn’t be a distraction, and they stood by the door. It was 8.15am; a serene summer day in Hiroshima. That was when the uranium-fuelled atom bomb, named Little Boy by the Americans, was dropped. The most deadly bomb in history. Koko and Chisa were buried in the rubble, unable to move. The parsonage roof had crashed down on them. For 40 years, Chisa couldn’t bear to tell Koko about the day, the pink dress, and how they survived. It was too painful.
Today, 81 years on, Koko is talking to me via video link. She is an elegant woman with a kind face and a vertiginous silver quiff. She speaks quietly in perfect English, then surprises you by stamping on a word fiercely to make her point. The virtual background to her screen is the Hiroshima Peace Memorial Park, which was built on ground zero, the point directly underneath where the bomb exploded.
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In Amsterdam sterft het van de verwarde mensen, (stelende) zwervers, junks, Roemeense pooiers, portiekpoepers, linkse radicalisering, wildplassers, vervelende buren, bedelaars, airco's, totale ellende en, niet te vergeten, "jongeren". Zul je zien: het aantal overlastmeldingen schiet subiet omhoog. Voor Het Parool hét moment om er eens een socioloog bij te halen en die te laten kijken of de overlast niet gewoon PERCEPTIE is.
U verwacht het niet maar de socioloog levert: "Een deel van de kritiek op de overlastmeldingen zit hem in de subjectieve aard ervan. Want wat de een als overlast ervaart, daar kijkt een ander niet van op. Overlast is een politiek begrip, zegt socioloog Karlijn Roex, die een boek schreef over de positie van verwarde personen in de samenleving." SUBJECTIEVE AARD. Zo kijkt in Amsterdam niemand op van dergelijke, onnozele kretologie, terwijl de rest van Nederland denkt: sociologie is een politiek begrip.
Nog een zinnetje: "Als een groep witte mensen aan het barbecueën is in het park, dan is het gezellig,” zegt zij. “Maar als het Marokkaanse mannen zijn, is het een probleem." Ja net als wanneer het bij islamitische homohaat cultuur is en bij alle andere homohaat gewoon homohaat.
Maar socioloog Karlijn Roex gaat doorrrr: "Roex ziet dat mensen meer gaan melden zodra er een label of media-aandacht voor een bepaald type overlast is. Volgens haar moeten we opnieuw nadenken over onze definitie van overlast. 'Beperkt het me in mijn leven, houdt het me uit mijn slaap, bedreigt het me?” geeft ze als voorbeeld. 'Of is het niet-esthetisch, niet-reclamefolderwaardig, zoals bijvoorbeeld dakloosheid?'" Want stront in je portiek is natuurlijk alleen maar heel erg niet-reclamefolderwaardig. Bovendien zet je dan toch even een knijper op je neus en binnen vijf minuutjes heb je zo andermans schijt weer weggepoetst.
Wereldvreemder, randstedelijker, wegkijkeriger, sociologischer, typischer en allround VERSCHRIKKELIJKER wordt het niet deze zaterdag. Maar goed, dat is natuurlijk onze perceptie maar, en wij staan er qua sociologen nogal subjectief in.