We've all been told to “think critically” about what we see online, and yeah, that’s essential. But honestly? It's not enough anymore.
In today’s attention economy, our focus is the main target. We have to get strategic about what we don’t spend our energy on. Media literacy isn't just about analysis; it's about knowing when and how to close the tab.
Think of it this way: Strategic ignoring is just as vital as critical thinking. Psychologists and scholars agree that learning to filter out the manipulative or low-quality junk is a crucial skill for maintaining your mental clarity and digital well-being. It’s about being an efficient, smarter user of your own brain.
We had actually had a glass earlier that week, too, and we both absolutely loved it. And here is exactly why I'm now completely obsessed with Mother Root Ginger Switchel.
When the brand reached out and sent me a box to try, I was immediately drawn in. The aesthetic alone is gorgeous—I love the sunny yellow branding against the dark brown bottle. It looks like a heritage tonic, and the logo is really cool, too! But the contents? That’s the real magic.
Before I get into the taste, let's talk about what this is. Mother Root is essentially a modern, premium take on a traditional tonic called a Switchel.
It’s an invigorating, non-alcoholic drink that is packed with potent, natural ingredients. Think of it as a delicious, fiery dose of goodness that’s great for your gut and an amazing alternative to sugary sodas or complicated cocktails.
The founder's goal was simple and brilliant: to create a drink that offers the satisfying, complex flavors of a cocktail but is non-alcoholic (0.1% ABV Alcohol-Free) and genuinely beneficial for your health. They wanted to deliver 'good feelings without compromise,' and honestly, they nailed it.
The whole thing is set in a very old time, back when life was raw and regulations were thin. It's about this man who didn't even know his mother or father. He was just a soul brought into a community, almost like a piece of property left there because, at that time, when people were born, they weren't put in registers or registered in hospitals. He was just... there.
He lived that lonely life, never knowing where he came from. He had to figure it all out, fending for himself, and he grew up working as a log man. Cutting wood, selling wood, carrying wood from the mountain—the heavy, back-breaking work of a laborer just making his own way. He was making money from day one, grinding it out, until he met this one girl. And like a switch flipped, he fell in love. She was the one who pushed him to start their life together. They got married, they got a house, and things were good.
But his work was far. He had to travel away for a few days, get back home, and then go again. That was their rhythm. Goes for a few days, gets back home. Goes for a few days, gets back home.
It's that rhythm that leads to everything. His wife got pregnant, and they had a baby girl. And with the kind of work he did, both of them got worried. He was going to miss her growing up. He wouldn't be a part of the child's life.
So they had a plan, a perfect little dream: they would get some land. She would plant on it to multiply their income, and then he would eventually join her as a farmer, and he wouldn't need to travel for work anymore. It was just one last trip. He needed to go out to work this last time, and then he would come back, and they would start their life together, fully, without the distance.
And then it happened. While he was away, a fire broke out in the village. Some areas were consumed, and his house was part of it.
He was just getting off the train—that Train Dreams moment—and he ran straight to his home. He couldn't even get into the place; it was already consumed by the fire. He tried his absolute best to look for his wife and daughter. He didn't see them.
If you missed my previous post, you might not fully grasp the gravity of what I am about to say, but you can read it here.
The Nigerian military has been compromised. We are in danger. As I speak, hundreds are being kidnapped—many incidents don't even make the news because the media is suppressed. Nigerians are dying, and I beg you to spread this truth.
There are videos and heartbreaking reports circulating right now from the frontlines. We are seeing situations where our brave soldiers—young men willing to die for this country—have the terrorists pinned down. They have the advantage; they are ready to eliminate the threat. And then? The call comes from above.
A commander orders them to cease fire and withdraw.
Imagine being a soldier, looking the enemy in the eye, weapon ready, only to be told to stand down. When they obey this "last command" and turn to retreat, that is when the slaughter happens. They are ambushed. Many of our boys didn't make it out of these traps. They are being sent to the slaughterhouse by their own superiors.
It is an open secret now that when soldiers get to the "territory of the terrorists," the dynamics change. Instead of a military operation, it becomes a protection racket for the insurgents.
The Recruitment Scandal: Flooding the Army with SaboteursLet me explain why this is happening. The Nigerian military is supposed to represent all of us, but the recruitment process has been hijacked.
The Standard Drop: There is a deliberate lowering of standards for recruits from the North. While a young man from the Southeast or South-South (the Igbo or Niger Delta youth) faces rigorous checks and impossible criteria, the gates are thrown open for Northern youths.
Infiltration: Many of these "recruits" share the same religious and ethnic ideologies as the terrorists we are fighting.
The "Repentant" Terrorist Scam: This is the most painful part. Under the guise of "rehabilitation," the government—starting largely under the Buhari administration—granted pardon to captured Boko Haram members. instead of prison, they were given uniforms.
So, when you ask why the soldiers' locations are leaked? It’s because the man standing next to the faithful soldier, the man wearing the same green and white uniform, is texting his "brothers" on the other side. He is giving them the coordinates. Our army are crying because they are rotting from the inside out.
We must speak the names of those who brought us here. Muhammadu Buhari, the former president and a northerner, laid the foundation for this anarchy.
The Grazing Laws: He tried to pass laws allowing Fulani herdsmen to graze their cattle on any land in Nigeria. When they enter a farm in the Middle Belt or the South, destroy the crops, and the farmer complains, the farmer is the one who ends up dead or arrested.
Cows over Citizens: It became clear that a cow had more right to life than a human being.
The Lekki Tollgate: Remember the peaceful protesters in Lagos? Buhari’s government crushed them. Yet, terrorists in the North are invited to roundtables.
Look at the difference in how the military treats different regions. In Rivers State, Bayelsa, and the Niger Delta, when youths fought back—not to kill innocent people, but to protest their lands being destroyed by oil spills and their resources being stolen—the government deployed the full might of the military. They bombed creeks; they razed communities like Odi (years ago) and continue to harass locals today. These youths were fighting for survival against environmental genocide.
But in the North? The terrorists who kidnap schoolgirls, burn churches, and slaughter villagers are asked to "join the military." The disparity is evil.
I came back from work today and I couldn't even function. My heart is so heavy. I have no peace in my mind, only fear. Fear for my family. Fear for my friends. Fear for people back home in Nigeria, especially the Christians.
Before you rush to the comments, I need you to take your time and actually read this. Whether you are Nigerian or not, I am begging you to understand so you can help share this reality.
Christians in Nigeria are being killed. They are being murdered. There is a genocide of Christians going on right now. Just yesterday, in Kwara state, they entered a church again and killed people during a service. People are crying. They are targeting gatherings of Christians; they are hunting people in churches. They are trying to exterminate Christians in Nigeria.
Now, listen to me very carefully before you come here dismissing this as "American propaganda." I am Nigerian, born and bred. I have lived there; my parents are still living there right now. They are terrified for their lives. They are afraid to even go to church.
For those unaware, Nigeria is a wealthy country where politicians and government officials entirely consume and control all its resources. Nigerian citizens do not have access to these resources. There is massive insecurity, no jobs, and poverty everywhere, yet our politicians are among the highest paid in the world. What do they use the money for? We don’t know. Community leaders receive allocations meant to help the people, but they share the money among themselves while the communities remain in abject poverty. There are communities that have been wiped off the map, yet the government still sends allocations to these nonexistent communities just to steal the funds.
I know the world has conditioned many of us to believe that the safest thing we can do is mind our own business. We hear it everywhere: stay in your lane, keep your head down, don’t get involved. But sometimes paying attention, speaking up, or simply following an instinct can save a life. Amber Alert captures this truth with gripping clarity, showing how stepping outside that mindset can make all the difference.
The film follows Samantha and Nathan, two friends on an ordinary drive when an emergency notification flashes across their phones. It’s the standard alert we’ve all grown used to seeing: a description of a missing child and the vehicle involved in the abduction. What begins as a routine road trip quickly turns into a tense journey when they realize the car directly in front of them matches the exact make, model, and license plate in the alert.
The story is heartbreaking right from the start. Can you believe it? The little girl was just playing in the park when she was kidnapped, and her grandmother was actually busy filming her mom and the newborn to capture that perfect moment.
The abductor was meticulous; they had been monitoring the family, watching their routines, and waiting for the exact right second to strike. The kidnapper even used a doll to get the little girl's attention. That part really makes me wonder if that's why my parents always told us dolls were possessed as kids, because I didn't really fancy them growing up. I'm still not sure what their real reason was!
Later, the mother watched the video and noticed her daughter standing in front of a black car, but that was the only visual clue they got. She started calling out, but her daughter was nowhere to be found.
The fear, the suddenness, and the violation of safety rip through the family, and the mother is utterly broken by the ordeal. Her anguish, her panic, and her feeling of helplessness are palpable, and the film makes you feel every moment of that heartbreak. It’s a stark reminder that danger often hides behind ordinary days, and tragedy can strike in places we assume are safe.
- From New York to Chicago
- From Chicago to Los Angeles
- From Los Angeles to New York
- From New York to Chicago
- From Los Angeles to New York