I've noticed something lately, a creeping phenomenon that's making me question the very fabric of our appreciation rituals. (I'm not even talking about tipping because that's another issue.)
When you're a kid, you love looking at the monthly school calendar and seeing the upcoming field trips, the early dismissals and the days off. As a parent, you might enjoy seeing some of those things.
In a world where consumers are constantly bombarded with new fees – from banking to data overage on a cellphone plan – the last thing I want to do is pay to be a customer. Remember when it used to be good enough just to spend your hard-earned money with a company? That’s not sufficient nowadays.
We’re constantly told that higher education is the key to a better future, a thriving society and personal fulfillment. Essentially, it's painted as a public good that benefits everyone. So, why in the world does it cost more than a down payment on a house these days?
I strongly believe that parents should be held accountable for feeding their children, both at home and at school. Schools should focus on providing a quality education, not becoming a substitute for responsible parenting.
It seems like every time I open my phone, I'm bombarded with another celebrity announcing their new podcast. Don’t get me wrong, I love a good podcast. I find them informative, entertaining and a great way to pass the time.
I don't know about you, but I've noticed a peculiar phenomenon engulfing our lives: we've become utterly, irrevocably, photo crazy. It's not just about capturing special moments anymore; it feels like we're documenting every single mundane breath we take. And frankly, I'm starting to wonder if this endless stream of digital documentation is actually enriching our lives, or just creating a massive, overwhelming digital black hole.
We live in a hyper-connected world, a world seemingly glued to our screens, endlessly scrolling through the curated realities presented by social media. It’s become so ingrained in our daily lives that the mere suggestion of its absence might be met with outrage and cries of censorship. But I ask you, have we truly considered the potential benefits of a society unshackled from the grip of these platforms? Would outlawing social media, as radical as it sounds, really be a bad thing?
I’ve been a silent observer (and occasionally, a bewildered participant) in a particular brand of human interaction that honestly, just tickles my funny bone. I’m talking about the high-drama, low-effort tactics people employ when they want to end an argument, or rather, declare an argument over, usually with themselves as the undisputed victor.
Lately, I've had this nagging thought, this ever-present question bubbling beneath the surface of every news report and political commentary I consume. It’s a thought that, frankly, leaves me more confused than ever about how our government actually works, and I suspect I’m not alone.
I'm struck by a disturbing trend. It seems like everywhere I look, parents are relying more and more on phones and technology to teach, entertain and even soothe their kids.
We’ve all heard of them: the five love languages. (At least, single people have. Our married bosses hadn't.)
I’ve had an epiphany recently, a moment of clarity that connects two seemingly disparate observations: the astronomical rise in digital ad revenue for giants like YouTube, Facebook and Instagram, and the bafflingly irrelevant ads that pollute my own feeds. And honestly, it boils down to something both simple and infuriating: a significant chunk of these platforms’ burgeoning wealth comes from advertisers who are, quite frankly, throwing away their money.
For most of my adult life, my relationship with spelling and grammar could best be described as... estranged. Or perhaps, more accurately, non-existent. I was the kind of person who saw a misplaced apostrophe and thought, "Eh, you get the gist." A comma splice? "It adds character!" And don't even get me started on 'their,' 'there,' and 'they're' – a linguistic Bermuda Triangle that I happily navigated with blissful ignorance.
“Your triggers are your responsibility. It isn’t the world’s obligation to tiptoe around you.”
I understand why people don't trust the news media anymore.
Celebrity endorsements are as old as advertising itself. We've seen it all, from fitness gurus hawking miracle machines to supermodels swearing by age-defying creams. But something's shifted.
People are hilarious when they age. And by "hilarious," I mean a magnificent, often tragicomic blend of denial, delusion and the occasional fleeting moment of self-awareness.
There are drunken goons at sporting events? Say it ain’t so.
This is the time when everyone reflects on the year that was and says, “What a dumpster fire, can’t wait for the new year.”
I remember when Survivor first premiered in 2000. It was a cultural phenomenon. People gathered around their TVs to watch the contestants battle the elements and each other. Friends and family had watch parties, and it seemed like everyone was talking about the show.
I think about plenty when I pee but this ain't helpin'.
We all have our pet peeves, those tiny, often seemingly insignificant annoyances that, when accumulated, can make you want to scream into a pillow.
In today's hyper-polarized world, even the simple act of clicking "follow" on social media can be construed as a political statement.
