Is Stupidity Contagious?
So is stupidity contagious?
Yes… very… it’s contagious through the algorithm, through the likes, through the need to belong, through the fear of being left out of the herd
So is stupidity contagious?
Yes… very… it’s contagious through the algorithm, through the likes, through the need to belong, through the fear of being left out of the herd
Welcome to the 21st century – the place where a relationship is a “story,” cheating is a “human error” with a sad emoji, and marriage is a consometric contract with an exit clause after a year.
The story of the barista from Netanyahu’s video is one of those small moments that explains a large phenomenon.
In the age of social media, the battle for public opinion is no longer fought only between governments, it is fought between images.
The era where hatred doesn’t need a neat ideology, a theory book, or a drawn mustache.
A good algorithm, a little rage, and a lot of screen time are enough.
China doesn’t need to watch everyone.
It just needs everyone to plug in.
World War III hasn’t started with bombs or troop movements, It began quietly, stealthily — in towns and cities across the West.
A war of demographics, of identity, of who is allowed to speak, and who must shut up.
If you fell asleep in 1995 and woke up in October 2025, you would be flipping through the news and asking yourself: “What the hell happened to Belgium?!”
A country that for most of the world symbolized chocolate, a beautiful Brussels square, and beer with a perfect foam — has become a battleground between a tired Western culture and an ideology that believes the 7th century is the high-tech of values
Who are we if not iron swords?
There is something macabre about this name, and there is also a simple truth in it: in every generation, someone rises up against us – and we, with all the hustle and bustle, find a way to continue.
Somewhere between Metula and Rahat, among the dunes and basalt hills, there is a phenomenon that even Harvard has not yet been able to crack: the clothing habits of the average Israeli. The one who comes to a wedding in a white polo shirt, goes to a job interview in ripped jeans, and in winter (that is, one rainy February) wraps himself in a down jacket as if he were in Iceland.
This is a nation that rejected the necktie as part of a colonial conspiracy, adopted Crocs as a national symbol, and broadcasts to the world: “We don’t dress for you. We dress for the integration.”