When I was a kid, the most delicious treat in the wintertime wasn't hot chocolate, but a snack I could prepare myself: icicles. Crack one off a roof, hold a piece in your mouth, and cool down after hard play in the snow. Simple. Clear and pure.
Right?
Until Acid Rain became a buzzword in the 1980s, no one gave a thought about the toxic burden carried by those clouds. Rainwater was from….God, or something, and purified….well, by sunlight, or maybe ultraviolet unicorn horns. It was good, until we knew better.
A friend on facebook posted this: "Heard at the gym last night: 'I do an hour and a half of cardio a day and I still can't lose weight?'" The replies were plentiful and varied, with a common theme: they put the blame on the complainer. Without any context whatsoever, responders accused the struggling gent of eating at McDonald's, lying about his 'cardio' time….and no one questioned the information that got him to that point.
The problem is, "knowledge" doesn't fall straight down. It starts out that way – in the form of scientific data, sometimes, or empirical evidence, or sometimes just gross experience. But then, it slopes. It's deflected.
No one wants to read Journal abstracts all day. Nah, they want Jimmy The Bartender to tell them to do more cardio, match their tie to their pants, and tip their postman. A white coat has become less validating than a solid six-pack, because – well, it worked for her, right?
And so, the truth takes on a bit of an angle. Just like rain hitting a tin roof, still coming at you…but not quite head-on. We are a culture of lower-back weakness….we just need more core work! We're storing too much fat? Calorie-counting is the answer! OR take this new! improved! chocolatey! supplement! The magazine – heck, the HEALTH industry – is one big, rusty roof, with a slope low enough to prevent even the most slow-footed burglar from falling off.
Not downright, stop-in-your-tracks LIES…but not an untainted source anymore, either. Yes, some of the water in your icicle is fresh and straight from the source. But which one? They all look alike, and frankly, most of them taste like squirrel piss.
After fourteen years in the industry, I can assure you: everyone has a slope. It's a necessity. It's a hard rain out there. But here's to steep rooftops anyway.