Toniq

Now, don’t get me wrong. Data is powerful. In fact, it’s everywhere. But, like a maze of information networks, the more we have, the harder it becomes to separate the signal from the noise.

The flag, meticulously folded and presented with such care, is much more than a symbol of a nation. It represents legacy—the heritage passed down through generations—and honor.

Outrage is no longer just a reaction; it's a lifestyle. If you've spent even five minutes online—whether on YouTube, Twitter, or Instagram—chances are you've witnessed the latest viral tantrum. The format is almost predictable: someone yells, complains, or throws an emotional fit, and BOOM—instant fame, shares, and thousands of new followers.

Ralph Waldo Emerson once said, “Common sense is genius dressed in its working clothes.” This makes you wonder if Common Sense has retired, hung up its working clothes, poured a stiff drink, slumped down on the couch, remote in hand, and turned its back on us entirely.

I don't mean to be a bother; I won’t take up too much of your time, I promise. This feels so odd; I’m not one to make a fuss or seek out attention. And, as I said, I don’t want to be a bother to anyone or ruin anyone’s fun, but I just feel that it’s the right time to say something.

Ah, content creation. The mystical art of talking into a camera, writing words into the void, or clicking “post” and hoping someone, somewhere, cares. But what does it really mean to be a content creator?

But what about a moral compass? Do we all come equipped with one, like a free bonus in our human starter kit? Order now and receive a moral compass plus a set of steak knives!

And therein lies the heart of the issue. We are shocked when people in the spotlight behave decently because somewhere along the way, we’ve come to expect the opposite.

True leaders are rare and unique, but true leaders aren’t always “natural born” leaders. They can be taught to see a moment and seize it or be smart, add their skills to a situation, and lead that way. Anyone can be a leader.

 But here’s the thing—if simplicity is the answer, why does it feel like the world keeps pushing us towards more?

In academia, you’re in a supportive environment where time moves at a more leisurely pace. You’re encouraged to explore, make mistakes, and improve in a nurturing environment. The focus is on growth and learning, and you're given plenty of room to experiment, without much of the pressure of deadlines.

 I’m talking about this odd need for advertisers to verb nouns. To do what now? You ask. To verb nouns. For example, no one out-pizzas the Hut. This little mind-numbing bit of torture is called verbing—the act of taking an innocent noun, ripping it from its regular, universally recognized part of speech, and forcing it, like a cat into a carrying case, into verb status.

Companies are calling employees back to their desks, signaling the end of our remote-work comfort zone. Like the great migration of 1.5 million wildebeest across the Serengeti, we’re preparing for a collective upheaval—a transition back to the office.

But here’s the question: Are morning rituals actually that important? Do they help us get our act together and focus on the day ahead?

When we think of Superman, we don't just think about a man who can fly or lift cars. We think about the embodiment of an ideal—an unattainable but aspirational version of what we, as individuals and societies, could be.