organic love

You've likely already heard of the Stanford Study claiming that organic food isn't that much more nutritious (cue vigorous linking of hipster-hating McDonald's addicts, and subsequent backlashing linkage by organic defenders) than "regular food."

Before bothering to read the litany of articles showing how non-comprehensive and not-useful the Stanford study was, I'd already decided I didn't care -- mostly because my reason for buying as much organic as I can afford has always been less about what it does for me on a cellular level and more about what it does for my son, long-term.

Organic at its best isn't about narcissism, it's about love. Self-love, yes -- I certainly don't want pesticides building up in my adipose tissues -- but also love for the Good Earth (which I don't want to see ravaged by factory farming); and for the rivers and oceans that not only sustain all life, but also didn't do anything to deserve our tons and tons of run-off chemicals.

What bugs me most about the whole fiasco is the way it gets spun. Organic food is big business and sure, a lot of people are ridin' the wave just to weasel their way into more money... so that make the whole Stanford thing a big story. But only a few days after the thing was published, I started seeing people triumphally declaring on Facebook that organic had been proven to have just as much pesticides and hormones as other foods.

This obvious, blatant falsehood was not, I think, the result of any malicious intent to deceive, but rather just another example of the way humans want drama; and are willing to ignore any facts that are uncomfortable, or don't happen to fit into their preconceptions of how the world works.

Le sigh.

Love works slowly. It is patient and kind. It isn't proud, it doesn't boast, and it quickly and completely forgives. In short, love and the internet seem to be antithetical and, sadly, it's often the truth that gets run over by the information stampede.


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