Skip to main content

This Crazy World We Live In

I recently visited Portugal and stayed in Lisbon, a gorgeous city of winding cobblestone streets, the Tagus River, and a rich history. I fell in love with the Calouste Gulbenkian Museum and the MAC/CCB Museu de Arte Contemporânea; with raw oysters and Aperol Spritz enjoyed against the backdrop of Castelo de São Jorge; and with carabineiros at Cervejaria Ramiro, featured in Season 8, Episode 4 of No Reservations.

Lisbon, Portugal

It was a fabulous trip, including a day trip by train to Porto, despite the city being unbearably crowded with tourists. A wine tasting at Taylor’s Port Winery, enjoyed in their beautiful garden, was a welcome reprieve after the jam-packed Livraria Lello, often considered one of the most beautiful bookstores in the world. It truly is stunning—but only if you can tolerate an obscene number of tourists.

And yet, amid all that beauty, I was reminded of how crazy the world we live in truly is.

I can’t recall the exact date, but one evening I was unwinding in my hotel room at the Moxy Lisbon City. I had grabbed a glass of Super Bock from the hotel bar on my way upstairs and turned on CNN while planning the next day. I was just chilling—until he appeared. Former President Donald Trump was speaking to reporters about his hush-money case, shortly after Michael Cohen had testified against him.

At first, I thought I must be drunk. He wasn’t making sense. It sounded like pure gibberish. But as he continued, I realized it wasn’t merely incoherent—it was incoherent. He was simply saying whatever came to mind, without structure or restraint. And this man is the front-runner for November’s presidential election. Don’t tell me we don’t live in a crazy world when someone facing 88 felony charges is a prominent presidential candidate.


Before the trip, it didn’t feel quite so insane. A month earlier, I had written that I would not vote for President Biden, but I would cast my vote for him. The world didn’t feel quite as upside down then. It didn’t seem absurd that I would be voting not for the best candidate, but against the worst—to preserve some semblance of civility, humanity, and decency as a nation. It felt almost reasonable to accept that there was no “best” option, only the choice between someone dangerous and someone merely decent.

After a full day of roaming Lisbon, what once felt normal suddenly felt absurd.

And then there was Rafah.

With at least 45 people killed and more than 200 injured in a tent camp fire, outrage over Israel’s continued offensive in Gaza—particularly its disregard for civilians—erupted once again. Despite a ruling by the International Court of Justice, the United Nations’ highest court, ordering Israel to “immediately halt its military offensive, and any other action in the Rafah Governorate, which may inflict on the Palestinian group in Gaza conditions of life that could bring about its physical destruction in whole or in part,” the attacks continued. At this point, we must consider whether what is unfolding constitutes an attempted genocide of Palestinians in Gaza.

War is not black and white, as I explored in Can There Be Such a Thing as Humanity in War? Israel was provoked—there is no denying that. Hamas is culpable for the deaths of Palestinians as well. But this has become more than retaliation. Words like famine and genocide are now used to describe the conditions in Gaza. Meanwhile, people on Instagram urge us to keep “all eyes on Rafah.” What does it mean to keep watching? What does it change?


I’m fairly confident Israel knows that all eyes are on Rafah. Famine and genocide may not be the stated intentions of the Israeli government, but they are happening. I don’t care for slogans. The international community must act beyond an AI-generated social media campaign. There should be concrete consequences—such as a complete halt to trade with Israel—as long as it continues to violate the ICJ’s ruling to stop its military offensive in Rafah. No nation claiming humanity should continue to call Israel an ally under these circumstances.

This is not about abandoning Jewish people or denying their right to Israel. Jewish people have the right to Israel and the right to live in peace without prejudice, like anyone else. I am not denying those rights. I am advocating for the protection of Palestinian civilians in Gaza—noncombatants who should be shielded from military action as much as possible. This is about ceasing the destruction of Palestinian lives, at least temporarily, so that aid can reach those in despair and civilians can be evacuated.

It feels almost obtuse to talk about the weather after Rafah, but the weather, too, has reached a level of absurdity. Los Angeles feels like late winter rather than summer. I woke up this morning and didn’t want to get out of bed because it felt cold outside the duvet. We’ve passed Memorial Day weekend, and it’s still too chilly to enjoy ice cream. Meanwhile, at least 23 people were killed over that same holiday weekend due to extreme weather events.

Yet some people still refuse to believe that climate change is driving deadly heatwaves, storms, and weather extremes—or that human activity, particularly the burning of fossil fuels like oil, gas, and coal, is largely responsible. We are experiencing the consequences in real time, with fatal outcomes, and still resist changing our lives to protect the future of the planet.

I think about that future and, admittedly, I shrug. I don’t have children, and I won’t. While extreme weather has become more frequent and deadly, I don’t believe it will drastically impact my quality of life within my lifetime. But if you have children or grandchildren and haven’t made meaningful lifestyle changes beyond recycling, solar panels, or electric vehicles, you are being willfully obtuse. Imagine them living in a world where extreme weather isn’t an anomaly but a constant—relentless heatwaves and storms that kill regularly. What kind of future is that?

And yet, no matter how crazy the world becomes, life continues for most of us as though it isn’t. I’m back from Portugal, slowly settling into my life in Los Angeles. I see “All Eyes on Rafah” on Instagram Stories and wonder how long we plan to watch. I wonder what will happen to my vote in November if Israel continues its offensive in Gaza and President Biden refuses to impose economic sanctions—while former President Trump promises that he would.

Will I compromise everything for the Palestinians in Gaza?

I hope it doesn’t come to that. But we live in a crazy world.

_____
More essays:

ESSAYS | RECIPES | STYLES | IG

Articles sélectionnés
I earn commission on qualified purchases.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Is Feminism Destroying Us?

Are you bothered by the question? More than two decades ago, a dear friend, Andrea, ten years my senior, confided that she believed feminists had destroyed our lives. Back then, work-life balance did not exist. Back then, I was asked to terminate an employee simply because she was pregnant. at Laguna Art Museum I didn't. I also didn't exactly refuse. I told the company that it was more than welcome to terminate her, but as her direct manager, I saw no performance-related reason to end her employment and therefore would not sign her separation papers. If executive management wanted to terminate her, I would accept its decision. I simply would not lend my name to it. She was not terminated. I didn't refuse to sign because I was advocating for her rights. I refused because there was no reason to terminate her. I had terminated other employees for poor performance; pregnancy was not poor performance. And the order hadn't come from a man. It came from my boss, who was a woma...

Who Investigated the Alleged Cornell Gang Rape?

This morning, my mind froze as I read about an alleged gang rape involving eight Cornell University students that occurred nearly two years ago, in 2024. Most of us learned the details only after Jane Doe filed a civil lawsuit on September 14, 2026, in New York State Supreme Court, New York County, against Matthew Ingalls, Johnathan Newell, Winston Lee, Gillio Lopes, Diego Sarabia, Scott Norris, and Scott Kretzschmar, alleging that the seven men raped her while they were students at Cornell University. The alleged assault occurred during the night of October 19 into the morning of October 20, 2024. Jane Doe later reported the incident to Cornell University Police. Cornell separately conducted its own disciplinary investigation, followed by hearings under its Title IX process, while Cornell University Police conducted the criminal investigation that was referred to the Tompkins County District Attorney’s Office. at LACMA No criminal charges followed. The District Attorney’s Office did n...

What If I Told You Tolerance Is Insane

A few years ago, I worked as a Project Manager for a marketing agency. What most people did not know was that I wasn’t simply managing marketing projects. Part of my job was to conduct root-cause analysis and privately address what I found with the VP of Operations. The agency was losing clients, and part of my assignment was to conduct root-cause analysis within the PMO. No one ever told me the two were connected, but I wondered whether leadership believed they might be. Ganna Walska Lotusland I worked alongside another Project Manager, a smart guy with a project management certification whose vertical happened to be one of the problematic ones. He didn’t know that evaluating his project pipeline was part of my assignment. His failure to follow project management best practices had already been escalated. He also had reluctance to escalate problems early enough to keep them from affecting clients. One Client Success Manager was a recurring problem. She routinely failed to turn in ...

Homemade Balsamic Glaze

There are ingredients that demand complexity, and then there are ingredients that reward quiet. Balsamic glaze belongs firmly in the latter category. At its core, it is nothing more than vinegar reduced with a touch of sugar. No emulsions. No elaborate technique. Just heat transforming sharpness into depth. As the vinegar simmers, it thickens into something darker, glossier, and quietly dramatic. A proper balsamic reduction carries contrast. It is sweet, but not cloying. Acidic, but softened. It pools against burrata, streaks across roasted vegetables, finishes a steak, and cuts through the richness of duck with precision. It does not overwhelm. It punctuates. And unlike many bottled versions, which can taste flat or syrupy, a homemade glaze retains the complexity of the vinegar itself. The flavor concentrates. The texture becomes silkier. The control is yours. INGREDIENTS a half cup of balsamic vinegar one and a half teaspoons of sugar In a small saucepan, combine the balsamic...

No Rice, No Deal Stir-Fry Bowl

For a while, I restrained myself from using salt and pepper in my cooking, partly because I had come to think of them as the two most overused seasonings, capable of keeping a dish from becoming more interesting than the obvious. At one point, I even wondered whether I had developed a sensitivity to salt; the slightest over-seasoning began tasting bitter to me. Salty filets at Michael Mina at Bellagio and Delilah at Wynn Las Vegas last year did little to repair the relationship. Trust me, an overly salted filet at an upscale restaurant is its own particular trauma, quite different from realizing the horrible flavor of McDonald’s new limited-edition Spicy Chicken McNuggets. I never abandoned salt entirely. I continued using it to enhance other spices and ingredients, but deliberately salty flavors, even those built around soy sauce, became increasingly rare in my kitchen. Ceramic bowl was wheel-thrown and glazed by me. Until recently. No Rice, No Deal Stir-Fry Bowl is deliberately veg...

Seafood Jajang Deopbap

Jajang, born from Chinese zhajiangmian and transformed in Korea into the rich, dark sauce made with chunjang, has become woven into the fabric of Korean everyday life. What began as an adapted working-class meal of black bean sauce (jajang) over noodles (myeon) in port cities has evolved into a national comfort food, synonymous with quick delivery, moving days, and casual family meals. Jajangmyeon was the pizza and burgers of my childhood. End-of-school semesters and good test scores were acknowledged with jajangmyeon. My grandparents always had it delivered when I stayed with them during school breaks, a proper opening to days of my grandmother’s home-cooked meals to come. Ceramic bowls were wheel-thrown and glazed by me. Its presence is as cultural as it is culinary: from shared bowls among students and office workers to its symbolic role on Black Day, when singles gather to eat jajangmyeon together. It is the unofficially official meal on moving day. More than just a sauce, jajang r...

Let's Unite With Intelligence, Not Emotions

It has been difficult to watch as the alleged Cornell University gang rape saga unfolds. I am not minimizing what allegedly happened. As a survivor of childhood sexual abuse and domestic violence as an adult, I do not take what allegedly happened lightly. What happened to Jane Doe, I know she will never be able to escape—physically, mentally, or emotionally. I know her thoughts must take her to the darkest and cruelest moments, moments that at times must feel as though they will never end. I have learned to accept those moments myself, the shame and rage turning so rapidly that eventually they become numbness, until something triggers them again. I have also learned that the numbness is when it becomes dangerous, when the conflict that keeps us “feeling” is subdued and settles into an acceptance: I am damaged. Forever. So I know it is difficult—nearly impossible for some of us, and for legitimate reasons—to leave our emotions out of what allegedly happened beginning on October 19, 202...

Korean Gal's Guatemalan Red Beans with Pork Spare Ribs

Full transparency. I am afraid of pressure cookers. It is a fear instilled in me by my mom, a quiet but effective deterrent meant to keep me at a safe distance—especially when the pressure is being released. Reasonable? Perhaps. I would consider a therapist, but it has been years since I have needed one. Ceramic bowl was wheel-thrown and glazed by me. When I saw the Pressure Cooker Guatemalan Red Beans with Beef Short Ribs recipe in The World Central Kitchen Cookbook: Feeding Humanity, Feeding Hope , I knew I had to make a version of my own—one that did not require a pressure cooker. I also wanted the ingredients to feel simpler, more accessible. More importantly, I wanted the dish to center the red beans, rather than have them overshadowed by the richness of beef short ribs. This is not a bean stew, but a slow braise—one that relies on the gradual release of moisture from the ingredients themselves. So, changes were made—and thus, the name: Korean Gal’s Guatemalan Red Beans with P...

Shiso Pork Belly Rice

One of my recent obsessions has been a pot of perfectly cooked rice, an obsession I had to put on hold once Los Angeles began suffering through extreme heat. While I love my rice cooker, there is something undeniably foodgasmic about rice made in a thick clay or stone pot . Add pork, mushrooms, bean sprouts, mu (Korean radish), shiso, or whatever vegetables you desire, and you have the perfect one-pot meal. Many rice pots welcome gochujang or sesame oil at the table. This one does not need either. Served with ssamjang and lettuce This Shiso Pork Belly Rice is one of my recent favorites. Pork belly does more than give the dish meat. As its fat renders at the bottom of the pot, that richness works its way into the rice above it. Shiso plays a different role here than it would scattered fresh over a finished dish. Cooked with the rice, its assertive herbal character softens and perfumes the grains rather than announcing itself from the first bite. Napa cabbage brings a little sweetness...

From Thongs To Guns, Where Are the Parents?

It was more than two decades ago, when Victoria’s Secret was hot. A simpler time, when humanity’s fight for survival against artificial intelligence was a movie plot and not something we debate in real life. Dancer Resting by Edgar Degas at Norton Simon, Pasadena, California I was waiting in line at Victoria’s Secret, minding my own business, when I noticed a group of young girls picking through lacy thongs. Not that I am a prude, but it bothered me. It is difficult for me to imagine lacy thongs being appropriate for young girls. They are performative underwear, designed for sexual allure, or at the very least sexual confidence. No child should need to feel sexually desirable. Where were their parents? How were they paying for them? Who was doing their laundry? They could not have been more than fifteen years old. One of them was pushing a stroller while cooing at a baby. I instinctively thought how adorable. An older sister taking care of her baby sibling. Then I heard something...