You probably think I made a typo in the title, right? It should be: How to MAKE Popcorn.
And your second thought might be: “Is she dumb? Doesn’t she know how to make popcorn?”
Well, I’m not dumb, and I DO know how to make popcorn. (And if I don’t, I could always listen to the song Popcorn by Warhaus.)
No, I mean it literally – How to Become Popcorn.
A few weeks ago, I discovered that I am, in fact, corn. And under direct sunlight, I run the very real risk of turning into popcorn.
Why am I at risk?
I’ve been vaccinated against COVID-19. Five times!
And according to one man – let’s call him Peter Kotlár – the vaccine altered my DNA, as if I were a GMO crop.
So, logically, according to Peter, I might as well identify as a corncob.
Now, you might ask: “Why waste time on some random guy spreading disinformation?”
Because he’s not just some guy. He is a member of the Slovak National Council, and the government’s official investigator reviewing the management of the COVID-19 pandemic.
Yes, really.
His job is to audit pandemic spending and administration – despite not believing a pandemic even occurred. Instead of analysing government expenditures, he bought a microscope, mixed vaccine drops with his blood, and conducted his own “study”.
His conclusion? mRNA vaccines alter our DNA and should be banned.
He claims his “research” is based on facts, data and scientific knowledge – all while ignoring actual medical professionals with years of expertise in virology and infectious diseases. Instead, he quotes people like Richard M. Fleming, a man who pleaded guilty in 2009 to healthcare fraud after billing for medical tests he never performed.
So here we are – an orthopaedist with zero experience in infectious diseases now claims he has uncovered a grand conspiracy against the Slavic race – on taxpayer money.
An oxymoron? No, just another day in modern Slovakia.
Welcome to the land of endless possibilities!
A country where the Minister of Defence argues there’s no point in resisting an aggressor – because eventually, the Russian soldier will leave. (Sure, maybe after twenty years, countless destroyed lives, a ruined economy, and a generation lost – but he’ll leave.)
Where the Minister of Foreign Affairs shuts down the embassy in Copenhagen – a key EU capital full of Slovak students and a major trade partner – to open one in Dodoma, Tanzania, where Slovakia has virtually no students, no business, and no one asking for an embassy.
Where the State Secretary at the Ministry of Environment proposes making bear meat publicly available – because, of course, the best way to protect wildlife is to eat it.
Where the Prime Minister is left out of confidential talks with world leaders – because the last time, he leaked everything that was said within 24 hours and somehow still wondered why they stopped inviting him.
Yes, the Slovak dream sounds a lot like the new American dream. And like in the U.S., the real problem isn’t that public funds are being wasted on bad science and PR stunts.
The real problem is our silence.
We expect scientists, experts, and the opposition to stand out louder, protest harder, and fact-check faster. Meanwhile, we scroll, shake our heads, and move on.
No protests followed Fico’s fantasy that neutrality might actually be a good thing.
No outrage at the purge of the country’s artistic institutions, including the vanishing of the Donatello bust from the Spiš Museum.
But hey, it’s summer. The cottage is calling. The pool is warm. And the square? Too far, too hot, too much effort.
So, we stay home.
But maybe – just maybe – it’s time to show up. Because our country is at stake. And what’s the worst that could happen?
Only that Kotlár was right, and we all really do turn into popcorn on a hot July night.
But if that’s our fate, I’d rather pop beside every vaccinated, rational Slovak than sit in silence while my country crumbles.
We’re all going to pop eventually.
Better to pop together, to pop for something.
